Page 14 of Heat Clickbait
Milo settled between my thighs, the blunt head of his cock nudging at my entrance. He was big, bigger than his fingers had been, and my body stretched around him, taking him inch by inch.
"Fuck, you're tight," he groaned, his forehead dropping to mine. "So fucking perfect."
He bottomed out with a final thrust, his hips flush against mine. I could feel him, pulsing inside me, his knot already beginning to swell. He started to move, slow at first, then faster, harder, his hips snapping against mine.
The others were there, hands on my skin, voices in my ear. Ghost's fingers tangled in my hair, his grip tight, grounding. Crash's mouth found mine, swallowing my moans, his tongue mimicking Milo's thrusts. Blitz and Nova held my legs, keeping me open, steady, their hands hot on my skin.
Milo's knot was growing, the sensation of being filled, stretched, overwhelming. I could feel every ridge, every vein, every pulse of his cock inside me. His thrusts became shorter, sharper, his breath ragged.
"Gonna come," he grunted, his eyes locked on mine. "Gonna fill you up, sweetness. Gonna make you take my knot."
And he did, his cock pulsing as he spilled into me, his knot swelling to lock us together. I came again from the sensation, the sheer primal rightness of it, my body milking his for every last drop.
We stayed like that, locked together, his body covering mine, our breaths syncing. The others stroked my skin, their touches soothing, praising. I felt cherished, worshipped. Safe.
Milo's knot took time to go down, but I didn't mind. I reveled in the fullness, the connection, the sheer intimacy of it. When hefinally slipped from me, I whimpered at the loss, but Nova was there, his mouth on mine, his hands stroking my skin.
"You did so well, love," he murmured. "So fucking well. Ready for more?"
And despite the two orgasms, despite the sheer overwhelming sensation of Milo's knot, I was. I needed more. Needed them. All of them.
"Yes," I said, my voice steady. "I'm ready."
Blitz stepped forward, taking the lead with a confidence that was both exhilarating and comforting. His powerful body, a testament to countless hours dedicated to honing his physique, moved with a fluid grace that was almost hypnotic. Every muscle, from his broad shoulders down to his sculpted calves, bunched and released with each deliberate thrust. A sheen of sweat glistened on his golden skin, accentuating the defined contours of his form, making him look like a living, breathing statue brought to life by some divine sculptor.
His green eyes, framed by dark lashes that any model would envy, were locked onto mine with an intensity that made me feel like the only person in the world. Within those emerald depths, I saw a mix of awe and hunger — a hunger not just for physical satisfaction, but for a deeper connection, a primal bond that transcended the mere act of intimacy.
I nodded at the question in his gaze and without any further preamble he thrust into me. He was relentless, his pace bruising and unyielding, yet there was a tenderness in his touch that belied his strength. Each movement was a dance, a rhythm that resonated deep within me, stirring emotions I hadn't known I could feel.
As he moved, sweet nothings flowed from his lips like honey. His tongue piercing clinked softly against his teeth with each whispered endearment, adding a subtle, intimate rhythm to his words. It was as if he was weaving a spell, each syllable a threadthat bound us closer together. His voice, smooth and rich, was a balm to my senses, soothing even as it ignited a fire within me.
Every word, every touch, every thrust was a testament to his devotion, his need to please and be pleased in return. Blitz was more than just a physical presence; he was a force of nature, a whirlwind of passion and tenderness that swept me up and carried me away on a tide of sensation. And in that moment, I knew that I was exactly where I was meant to be, lost in the dance, the rhythm, the sheer, overwhelming intensity of our connection.
As his knot began to stretch me, a wave of intense, delicious sensation washed over me. It was a feeling so profound and consuming that it drowned out every other thought, every other sense. His cock pulsed within me, each throb a testament to his release, and my body responded in kind, clenching around him as my own climax surged through me. The connection between us was electric, a circuit of pleasure that amplified every sensation, every emotion. His body pressed against mine, slick with sweat and trembling with the force of our shared ecstasy.
As Blitz finally stepped back, his chest heaving and a satisfied grin spreading across his face, Ghost silently moved to take his place. The shift in dynamics was palpable; where Blitz was a storm of passion and vocal enthusiasm, Ghost was a silent, intense force. His dark eyes, focused and unblinking, took in every minute reaction, every hitch of my breath, every shiver that ran through my body. He was meticulous, his touch precise and reverent, as if he were exploring something sacred, a treasure to be cherished and understood.
His lean muscles were taut beneath his pale skin, a testament to his controlled power and restraint. The geometric tattoos etched onto his arm seemed to dance and shift with each deliberate movement, a mesmerizing display of art in motion. He brought me to heights I hadn't known existed, my bodysinging and humming under his careful ministrations. Every touch was a revelation, every caress a testament to his devotion and focus.
His scent, winter pine and black coffee, washed over me like a midnight forest, sharp and grounding, mingling with the faint tang of leather that always clung to him. It wrapped around my senses, anchoring me firmly in the moment, a familiar aroma that spoke of safety and understanding. With Ghost, there was no need for words; his silence wasn’t emptiness but a language of its own. His presence alone was enough to fill the space, like a held breath finally exhaled, and I felt seen and utterly known. Outside, the world ceased to exist. There was only us, locked in a rhythm as ancient as our instincts, moving together in a dance that was as much about connection as it was about pleasure.
Ghost’s cock was thick, stretching me in a way that was both overwhelming and perfect, a sensation that left me gasping and arching into him. He moved slowly at first, his hips rolling in a controlled rhythm that built the tension in my body like a coiled spring. Every thrust was deliberate, calculated to draw out every ounce of pleasure, and I could feel the way his muscles tightened beneath his pale skin. When he came, it was with a low, guttural growl that vibrated through my chest, a sound so primal it hooked into my omega instincts and dragged a responding whimper from my throat.
Our bodies locked together as his knot swelled, binding us in the most intimate way possible. He didn’t pull away or shift uncomfortably like some might; instead, he stayed close, his forehead resting against mine, his breath warm on my skin. And then, soft and unexpected, a rumbling purr began to emanate from his chest, a sound so soothing it melted the tension from my body. I knew without it having to be explained to me that it was rare to hear him make noise like that, and it felt like a gift, a moment of vulnerability he shared only with me. We laythere, tangled and intertwined, until our bodies finally relented and released each other, leaving us breathless and sated, still connected in every way that mattered.
I slept for a while before waking to another wave of heat overwhelming me. Crash was there with me, his usual chaotic energy harnessed and transformed into a focused passion that was almost dizzying. His compact, wiry body was a powerhouse of pent-up vitality, every movement quick and sharp, like a dancer performing a high-energy routine. His purple and neon green hair, darkened and slick with sweat, clung to his forehead in damp tendrils, and his freckles stood out starkly against his flushed skin, a testament to the intensity of his exertion. He was a whirlwind, a force of nature, his touch electric and exhilarating, leaving us both gasping and shivering in its wake.
His scent, a potent mix of energy drinks and fresh rain, invigorated me, filling my lungs and sending a rush of adrenaline through my veins. His relentless pace pushed me to new limits, demanding more from my body than I ever thought possible. His voice, loud and bright, echoed through the room, punctuated by random sound effects that were so quintessentially Crash, a burst of laughter here, a playful growl there, that I couldn't help but laugh, even as my body tightened and arched around him, responding to his every thrust with a wave of intense pleasure.
His hands, rough and calloused from his endless stunts and adventures, gripped my hips with a fierce possessiveness, anchoring me to him as if he feared I might slip away. His eyes, bright and wild, never left mine, holding me captive in their gaze, daring me to keep up with his frenetic rhythm. And I did, matching his energy, his passion, his unyielding intensity, until we were both panting and breathless, our bodies slick with sweat and our hearts pounding in syncopated rhythm.
As he moved, his body a blur of motion and force, he suddenly stilled, his muscles tensing as he knotted me. The room, once filled with our combined panting breaths and the slick sounds of our bodies coming together, was now silent except for the distant hum of the city outside. Crash was the eye of the storm, a moment of utter stillness amidst the chaos. He held himself carefully, his body trembling slightly with the effort not to move, not to hurt me. His eyes, usually so full of wild abandon, were now focused, intent on me, watching for any sign of discomfort. This was the other side of Crash, the one that cared deeply, that wanted to protect and cherish. It was a stark contrast to his usual demeanor, but it was just as much a part of him as the loud, boisterous persona he showed to the world.
Finally, it was Nova's turn. His controlled dominance wasn't just an aura; it was a tangible force that filled the room, commanding attention without a word spoken. Each touch was deliberate, calculated to draw out my submission, as if he were a maestro and my body his instrument. His elegant build, tall and leanly muscular, was a study in restrained power, every movement precise and purposeful. Those dark eyes, framed by expressive eyebrows, saw everything, missed nothing. He moved with a grace that was almost predatory, a panther on the prowl, his hands and mouth mapping my body as if it were a landscape he intended to conquer and claim.
His scent, that intoxicating, impossible-to-resist blend of aged whiskey and leather-bound books with those delicate amber undertones, completely overwhelmed my senses. It filled my lungs with every shuddering breath, wrapping around my frayed instincts like a bespoke suit made just for me — expensive, perfectly fitted, impossible to ignore. The heady combination made my thoughts swim, my entire body going languid and pliant beneath his touch, as if I were floating in a pool of liquid gold, warm and thick and sweet. His voice, socultured and smooth with that clipped British accent I could easily see myself coming to love, only deepened the sensation. Each syllable rolled over me like silk against bare skin, luxurious and teasing, his words coiled carefully around my resistance and tugged.
"That's it, darling," he purred, the word loaded, a double-edged blade of praise and threat, soft as a caress and sharp as a command. His negotiation voice, the same one that could secure million-dollar brand deals in under five minutes, now turned entirely to unraveling me, coaxing, persuading, demanding. Every syllable was chosen to elicit some response from me, whether a gasp, a shiver, or outright surrender. And it worked.
