Page 13 of Lucky or Knot
Yeah, no. “You’d better do it,” I said, with great regret.
He paused, this time chewing on his lip. Another tell. I probably wouldn’t have time to learn them all, and that realization hit me shockingly hard.
“How do you, ah. I, ah.” His voice went soft and thin andhigh. “Want me?”
Fucking hell. My cock gave an almost painful pulse. How did I want him? Sprawled out in front of me, long, silky limbs akimbo and glowing white against the crappy bedspread, a diamond set in nickel, his hair tumbling over his slim, muscular shoulders. And he asked me how I wanted him.
My breath came in short little bursts, too shallow and too fast.
Magic. It had to be more magic. Otherwise I was just fucked.
Chapter 5
Stepping out of my jeans and toeing off my socks gave me a way to stall for a second.How do you want me?Fuck. Let me count the ways.
But I could cross one of them off the list. If I took him on his back, the temptation to kiss him wouldn’t be something I could resist.
“On your hands and knees,” I growled, and had to grab the base of my cock and throttle it back at the thought.
He rolled up, snatched the lube off the nightstand, and flipped over again in one smooth motion, all with the grace of an acrobat. Yeah, if he’d auditioned at a strip club, they’d have given him top billing.
The way he was making me watch him reach behind his round, firm globe of an ass and slide the tip of one slender, lube-slick finger into his hole—without my being able to touch or lick any of it—had to be against the Geneva Conventions. Every muscle in my body went taut with the effort of not participating. A soft-looking brush of black hair surrounded his cock and balls, but it didn’t reach as far as his hole, which glistened rose-pink as it swallowed up two of his fingers. And then three, and gods, but he was flexible, and the wet squelching of his hole and his soft gasps as he took his own hand…
At last I couldn’t stand it anymore. My cock pointed straight at him like a dowsing rod, knowing exactly where it wanted, needed, to go before I exploded. The bed dipped and groaned in protest as I knelt down behind him, my knees nudging his calves.
Two points of contact, and the heat of him burned through me and set me alight. He pulled his fingers out andbraced himself, his head hanging down.
My big hand wrapped around his hip looked obscene, a violation of perfection. Graffiti on a Renaissance painting. I leaned in. The head of my cock brushed between his cheeks.
Nowthatwas obscene. Thick and purplish-red and shiny and so much bigger than its target, even though he’d done a good job working himself open. Sliding my hand over to spread his cheek made him moan, the line of his back bowing down and his ass pushing up in the air. With the other hand, I picked up the bottle and drizzled lube along my shaft, letting it drip down and pool at the head, trickling onto and into him.
I’d gotten us both so wet that my cock nearly slipped off of him when I tried to thrust in, but I steadied him and pushed—so tight, my eyes rolled back—and then my cockhead popped inside and wedged there, stretching him open to fit.
The quality of his vibrating silence suggested a suppressed moan. No, fuck that. I deserved to hear it.
And maybe I wanted a lot of things I wasn’t going to get, but this I could have. Besides, I was practically vibrating myself with the urge to bury my cock deep, feel his wet heat clenching around every inch of me.
So I satisfied both desires, splaying my hands over his cheeks to hold him open and leaning forward, letting my weight sink my cock into him inch by inch. Slowly. One inch, and his fingers clenched convulsively in the bedspread. Two, and his legs shook where they pressed against mine. A little deeper, fuck, and I might break before he did, with sweat starting to prickle at my shoulders and my balls tight, pressure beginning to build.
He whimpered, low and soft.
There.
I pulled back slightly, letting him feel the drag of my thick cock on his sensitive inner walls…and then thrust forward, deeper, drawing out a helpless, breathy murmur.
Again. A sharper cry as I angled down, almost fully in, the thickest part of the base of my cock pressing on everything inside him.
Muffled sounds suggested he’d tried to bite his lip or the bedding to keep himself silent, but he didn’t stand a chance. I tilted up his hips and pounded down into him, holding him up so that his knees didn’t even touch the bed, ignoring his half-protesting cries that trailed off into rhythmic gasps and moans. The bed thudded and creaked, with one of my knees now noticeably lower than the other as the mattress gave way.
Fuck it. I adjusted my angle to compensate and swiveled my hips, testing out how deep I could go, wondering how he felt with the thick length of my cock buried so far inside him. Holding him up with one hand, I reached the other underneath his hips.
By the way he whined and moaned and kicked at my calves, trying desperately to get some leverage, and rutted his rock-hard cock into my palm, he thought being impaled on my alpha cock felt incredible.
I’d already noticed he was a lot stronger than he looked. He could take it.
Both hands on his hips again, I stopped restraining myself. My fangs dropped, my claws pushed out, and I lifted my fingers to keep them from piercing his skin and fucked him harder. I wouldn’t be able to keep myself from coming for much longer. That tingling had started in the base of my cock, and another sensation that only an alpha would experience: a throbbing pressure that meant my knot was ready to fill my lover’s soft hole, wrench him open, lock us together.
Sweat trickled down my spine and my legs, and a sheen of it dampened his back, too, catching strands of his silky hair and sticking them to his skin. My whole body had gone so tense I shook with it. The air around us crackled with magic, his wild faestrain and my own alpha power blending and folding over and over on top of each other.
