Page 31 of The Alpha's Gamble
I had three fingers stuffed in my ass within seconds, my knees spread, angling my hips up so that I could get deeper. It burned a little, but I didn’t fucking care. The faster I could get myself opened up, the faster he could get inside me.
Tilting my hips also gave Declan a fantastic view. And his reaction left me even more breathless and wanting. He stared between my legs, eyes glowing, his hand gripping his cock like he was trying to keep from spilling then and there.
Not like I wasn’t having the same problem. I couldn’t contort myself into the right position and also touch my cock, but the motion of my fingers inside me, filling me up and not quite able to reach the right spot, drove me insane.
“Fuck, enough,” he said roughly. “Turn over.”
I pulled my hand out and started to roll, but it wasn’t fast enough for him. He dived at me, grabbing me by the hips and flipping me onto my face, shoving my legs apart and kneeling between. This time I managed to get up on my elbows and keep my face out of the bedding.
Big hands pulled my ass cheeks apart, and then his cock pressed against my hole. It felt even bigger than it had before.
He thrust inside in one hard motion.
My nerves lit up along every limb and I thought I could feel every single one, as if I’d been transformed into one of those anatomy book illustrations showing the nervous system. I screamed, and he pounded me, and his fingers digging into my hips burned like brands, and I was saying—all kinds of things, uncontrollably, without a trace of the guile I’d planned to use when it came time for it.
Declan, please. Please fuck me harder. Gods, you feel so good, you’re huge inside me, fuck me harder, please…
“Stop,” Declan rasped, not stopping at all himself, his cock impaling me so hard I grunted and moaned. “Fucking stop it. You don’t have to act like—fuck,” and he doubled his tempo, moving impossibly fast, not holding back his alpha speed and strength at all.
I was so close, so very very close, about to come with only the tip of my cock rubbing against the bed, and then…he stopped.
“No, don’t, fuck,” I whined, pushing back, trying desperately to fuck myself on him, to get that last bit of stimulation I needed to come again. Sweat ran down my forehead and into my eyes, my legs shook, my fingers ached with how hard I clutched the duvet. Declan held me in place. I could feel the effort it cost him, but he kept me from taking him in again. “Please, come on!”
He thrust in again, and I moaned my approval—and then he lowered himself down on top of me, crushing me into the bed with his full weight. His cock was buried in me, but he wasn’t moving. And neither was I.
One of his hands loosened its death grip and slid under me, wrapping around my cock and squeezing hard enough at the base that it almost hurt.
Declan nuzzled my ear, hot breath brushing over the shell of it. “Knot my fist,” he whispered. “I want to feel it.”
My own hoarse, labored breathing filled my ears, rushing like a river, blood pounding beneath in counterpoint like the thunder of a waterfall. I stared at a loose thread on the duvet. A different duvet, I realized. I’d shredded the other one with my claws.
My knot. He wanted myknot, and knotting the empty air, or his hand, while he fucked me would be the final signal of my total submission to him, acknowledging him as the dominant alpha. There was a folk tale about that, part of shifter lore and custom. I’d found it in another pack’s library when I was a teenager, and it’d given me a few really uncomfortable moments thinking about it in the shower.
Declan shifted his hips, grinding into me, putting nearly unbearable pressure on the nub of flesh inside me, sending sparks into my balls and my cock and up my spine.
“Knot, Blake,” he said, and it was an undeniable command. “I’ll give you mine if you give me yours.”
Another thrust, another twisting squeeze from that strong hand, and I was spreading myself open as much as I could beneath his weight, tilting my hips to offer myself up.
“That’s right,” he purred, and the vibrations from his chest warmed my back, soothing me, sanding off the rough edges of humiliation and dying pride. “So good for me, Blake. You want my knot, baby?”
Baby? Did I hate that? I hated it so much, and I was so confused, but as the word left his lips I still squirmed and whimpered, trying to fuck his hand, trying to make him fuck me, caught between his fist and his cock and his rough-haired, muscular chest pinning me down.
“Yes, I want it.” I swallowed hard. He didn’t move. “Please, Declan. I want it. And I’ll give you mine.”
Declan mouthed my shoulder, flicking out his tongue, and thrust into me, so deep it took my breath away. “Here it comes,” he growled, and thrust again, his knot starting to swell, stretching me open.
He came deep inside me in spurt after spurt, and I let myself go, let all of it go, all of my hang-ups about being the perfect alpha. My knot pressed into his hand as his come heated me from the inside. Declan let out a low, strangled groan, forcing his knot as deeply into me as he possibly could. It echoed my own knot, and it felt fucking incredible, allowing myself this part of my sexuality, of my nature.
“I want to bite you,” Declan gasped, and my eyes flew open.
Bite me?
Fuck, his fangs sinking into my flesh, the sting of it mirroring the sharp, sweet pain of his knot inside me…
His teeth brushed over my neck, and I moaned and squirmed and went hot all over. Bite me. It wouldn’t take. Alpha/alpha matings required a mutual bite. He could bite me just like a claim, and it wouldn’t do anything but leave a mark that’d fade to nothing within half a day.
I dug my fingers into the bedding and nodded, throat too tight to speak.
