Page 172 of Saddle and Scent
Beckett’s knot finally slips free, leaving me feeling empty and wrecked and so hungry for more I’m actually shaking.
But Callum’s already there, silent and watchful, his eyes burning with the same banked heat I’ve seen in him a thousand times. Only now, it’s all for me, and I’m too tired to be shy about wanting it.
I crawl across the bed, barely making it two feet before he hauls me up with both hands, settling me right into his lap.
His cock is hard and thick, already leaking, and I line him up and slide down without a second’s hesitation.
He’s huge.
He’s always been huge, but tonight it feels even more so, my body stretched and desperate to take every inch.
The first thrust makes my whole body light up—too much, too good, perfect.
“Jesus, Bell,” Callum groans, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to leave marks. “You sure you’re ready?”
“I want you,” I say, and it’s the easiest thing I’ve ever said. “I want you so bad it hurts.”
He shudders, eyes squeezed tight. I don’t give him time to recover.
I start riding him, hard and fast, using every muscle I have left.
I want to feel him lose control.
I want to see the cracks in his armor.
It works.
In less than a minute, Callum is cursing under his breath, every word pure filth.
His hands are everywhere—on my hips, my ass, my breasts, my throat—like he can’t decide what he wants to hold most.
I dig my nails into his shoulders, biting his neck just to see if he’ll break.
Turns out, if you want to make an Alpha short-circuit, you just have to bait him in the right spot.
I raked my nails into the sharp line of Callum’s traps, scoring bright streaks into his tanned skin, then bent forward and bit down—hard—on his neck, right under the hinge of his jaw. He made a sound I’d only ever heard from dying animals or maybe championship wrestlers, a wild, uncontrolled noise that was half-pain, half-desperate hunger. His whole body shuddered, his cock pulsing so hard inside me I could feel his knot swell before he even started to move.
He snapped, just like I hoped.
His hands fisted in my hair, pulling me back from his throat, and he kissed me—brutal and sloppy, tongue fucking into my mouth until I couldn’t breathe. I took it, clawing at his chest, wanting to see him pushed past his limits for once. I wanted the mess, the violence of it, the proof that I could ruin him the way he ruined me.
“Bell,” he snarled, voice gone so deep it vibrated my bones, “you’re gonna—fuck?—”
I bit him again, just to prove I could.
He slammed into me, every thrust a brand new earthquake, shaking me so hard my vision blurred. The bedframe smacked the wall with every move, and I felt my whole body go slack against him, boneless and burning and utterly at his mercy.
He does.
He comes with a roar, hips jerking up so hard I nearly lose my balance, knot swelling and locking us together in one perfect, brutal snap. I collapse against his chest, every bone in my body turned to jelly.
We stay like that for a long time, joined, his arms locked around me like he’ll never let go. And I don’t want him to.
But Callum’s not done.
After the first wave passes, he shifts his grip, lifts me by the waist, and stands up—still knotted, still buried deep.
He pins me against the wall, his mouth on my shoulder, and fucks me so hard and fast I can’t even breathe. Every thrust lights me up, every bite of his teeth makes my pussy clench and my head spin. I come again, screaming this time, and when he finally lets go, it’s because I’m shaking so hard neither of us can stand.
