Page 19 of The Alpha's Gamble
To my shock, MacKenna stopped moving, letting his huge cockhead rest against my hole, wedged awkwardly between my cheeks. That probably felt really fucking good for him, actually. A flash of the last time I’d fucked a guy passed through my mind. I didn’t do it often, since it wasn’t my favorite sexual activity, but yeah, that’d felt great, that moment when I was about to get inside him.
So maybe MacKenna was just savoring the sensation.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he said. “But it’ll fit.”
Yep, savoring, not sympathizing.
I could appeal to his better nature. He had to have one, right? He’d started to push a little, the cockhead beginning to stretch me open. I had to shuffle my knees on the bed and brace with my chest, trying to ignore how damp and flushed and weirdly bent in various directions I’d gotten, how ridiculous I must look, how pathetic.
“You have to know how this feels, come on,” I—whined. I couldn’t deny it. I was whining, and squirming, and my claws were stuck in the fucking duvet and I couldn’t get them out. “You’re too big!”
His hand tightened on my hip. I clenched up more, even knowing how counterproductive it would be, because I couldn’t fucking help it.
“I have no idea how it feels. I don’t have any interest in getting fucked.” Right. Because most alphas didn’t get fucked, with the exception of female alphas…and those got fucked like they were fuckingyou, anyway. And now, also with the exception of me. “You can tell me how it feels, if you like.”
With that, he thrust forward, burying what felt like a whole limb inside me. I didn’t tell him how it felt.
Not with words, anyway.
I screamed, a long, drawn-out wail that put paid to any alpha posturing I ever wanted to engage in again.
MacKenna’s hips slammed into my ass as he buried the last few inches of his massive cock inside me. Gods, no one could possibly enjoy this, and I felt like the world’s biggest (okay, second biggest, my cock wasn’t as huge as MacKenna’s) prick for all the times I’d ever done this to someone else.
Panting, moaning, drooling onto the bed, splayed out and impaled so deeply I couldn’t draw a breath, couldn’t even feel my own heartbeat outside of where it pounded around that massive thing lodged inside me…I’d been conquered. Forced to submit.
And something in me—the only thing I had room for besides his cock, it felt like—finally gave up the fight. He’d mocked me and blackmailed me, put me on my knees, knotted my mouth and then made me lick his knot like a whore, taunted me and spanked me and now fucked me so hard the headboard slammed into the wall over and over again violently enough to dent it.
He’d mastered me. My body knew it. My brain had to accept it. And my own alpha magic had already rolled over and shown its belly, fucking traitor.
So I stopped even trying. I took his cock without any resistance, allowing myself to open to him, my legs spreading wider of their own volition to make room for him. My face was shoved into the bed over and over, but I only turned my head enough to avoid suffocation. He used me like a rag doll, a passive object to pound into, rearranging me to fit him.
And when the stretch and the burn and the bouncing, jolting force of it started to turn into irresistible heat building behind my balls, I didn’t fight that either.
Every thrust stoked the fire, and every withdrawal left me empty, wanting. Alpha refractory periods were short, and my cock started to fill again, fueled by the aching neediness where the thickness of his cockhead and the girth of his shaft rubbed over that spot I’d never known to aim for when I fucked other men.
Oh, gods. I really was the hugest prick, even if MacKenna had a couple of inches on me.
In me. He had all his inches in me, and I could picture that whole length sliding out all slick and thick, and then slamming back in. I could picture MacKenna, arm muscles tense and bulging as he held me in place, broad chest and shoulders sheened with sweat, the glow of magic overlaying the intensity of his black eyes. Gilded jet. Fixed on me, staring down at where he’d split me in half on his alpha cock.
That did it. One more powerful thrust, and I came again, soaking that poor fucked-up duvet a second time and moaning through it, clenching so hard around him that he let out a grunt of pain.
My head swam so much that the impossible stretch of his knot swelling inside me nearly flew under my radar for a second.
And then it hit me. So fucking big, and I knew what a knot looked like, I knew whathislooked like, but the idea of it buried inside me…he came, in hot bursts, filling up any space he hadn’t already taken up. The pressure made my eyes water.
Not tears, dammit. Watering. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to ride it out.
He let out a low, growling groan and pressed even deeper, getting his knot all the way in. Tying us together.
Fuck. Tying us together.
MacKenna leaned down over me, and the change in angle pushed his knot even more firmly against my inner flesh, sending a quivering aftershock of orgasm winging along every nerve. If he kept that up I’d have another one, or something close. The fabric under me was already plastered, wet and clammy, to my stomach and my cock. If I came again I’d be lying in a swimming pool of come.
That image made me gag, and I lost another moment to swallowing down my nausea.
When I swam, so to speak, back to the present, I still couldn’t focus on anything but the throbbing pressure of MacKenna’s knot—and the suddenly very painful tug as he moved.
“Ow! Don’t—” I broke off, too breathless to finish, desperately trying to shove myself up in order to follow his motion and keep his knot from ripping me apart.
