Chapter 49 #3
"That's it." His hand returned to my hair, pulling again, his fist tight at the base of my skull, and the slight pain mixed with the pleasure until I couldn't tell them apart.
His breath was hot against my ear, his chest pressed to my back.
"I can feel you getting close. Feel you clenching around me.
You going to come for me, chere? Going to scream my name? "
"Remy….Alpha!!" His name was a sob, a prayer, the only word left in my vocabulary, my face pressed into the pillow, my fingers white-knuckled in the sheets. "Alpha I'm—I'm going to—"
"Do it." He slammed into me harder, deeper, his voice a command that brooked no argument, his amber eyes burning into mine. "Come. Now."
I shattered. The orgasm ripped through me with enough force to black out my vision, my body clamping down around him so hard he groaned, my scream muffled by the pillow as every muscle in my body seized.
Wave after wave of pleasure crashed through me, relentless, endless, my inner walls pulsing around his cock in rhythmic contractions that I couldn't control.
He fucked me through it—didn't slow down, didn't stop, just kept driving into me with that brutal rhythm while I fell apart around him. The pleasure crested and broke and crested again, rolling through me in waves that didn't seem to end.
"Good girl." His voice was tight, strained, sweat dripping from his temple onto my shoulder, his thrusts growing erratic.
"So fucking good. But I'm not done with you yet.
" Before I could process his words, he pulled out—and the loss of him wrenched a sob from my chest—and flipped me onto my back.
I blinked up at him, dazed, my body still twitching with aftershocks, and he hooked his hands under my knees and pushed them up toward my chest, folding me nearly in half.
"Need to see your face," he said, his voice rough, his amber eyes wild and dark as he looked down at me, sweat dripping from his brow, his chest heaving. "Need to watch you fall apart."
He pushed back inside, and the new angle was so deep, so intense, that I cried out, my hands flying to his forearms to grip them, my nails digging in.
He was hitting places that shouldn't exist, pleasure and pressure building already even though I'd just come, my oversensitive body sparking with every movement.
"Too much—" I gasped, my head thrashing against the pillow, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes, my body shaking beneath him. "It's too much, I can't—"
"You can." He started to move—long, deep strokes that dragged against every nerve ending, that made me feel every inch of him.
"You can take it. You can take everything I give you.
" He lowered his head to press his forehead against mine, his eyes locked on my face, watching every flicker of sensation cross my features.
"Because you're mine and I'm going to make you feel so good you forget your own name. "
He was true to his word. He fucked me slow and deep, building me up again with a patience that contradicted the feral edge in his eyes.
Every stroke was deliberate, calculated to drag across my g-spot, to grind his pelvis against my clit.
His hands held my legs spread wide, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh of my inner thighs, keeping me open and exposed.
"Please—" I was begging without knowing what I was begging for, tears streaming down my temples, my fingers digging into his forearms hard enough to leave bruises, my body wound so tight I thought I might snap. "Remy, please, I need—"
"Need what?" He rolled his hips in a slow circle that made me see stars, his cock pressing against every sensitive spot at once, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips even as sweat beaded on his forehead. "Tell me. Use your words."
"Need you—need you to—" I couldn't finish, couldn't think, my hips rolling desperately against his, chasing the fullness he was denying me. The pleasure was building again, impossibly, climbing toward a peak I wasn't sure I could survive. "Please—" The word broke on a sob.
"Need me to what?" He pulled almost all the way out and held there, just the tip inside me, denying me the fullness I craved, his jaw tight with restraint.
I whimpered, my hips trying to chase him, but his grip on my thighs kept me pinned, his thumbs pressing bruises into the soft flesh. "Say it, chere. Tell me what you want."
"Fuck me." The words ripped out of me, shameless and desperate, my back arching off the bed, my hands fisting in the sheets above my head. "Fuck me harder—make me come again—please, Alpha, please—" My voice cracked on the title, my whole body trembling with need.
Something snapped in him at the word Alpha.
He slammed home with a growl that vibrated through both of us, and then he was fucking me in earnest—brutal, punishing thrusts that drove the breath from my lungs, that made the headboard slam against the wall, that made me scream.
His hand found my clit and rubbed in fast, tight circles, relentless pressure that pushed me higher and higher.
"That's right," he snarled against my neck, his teeth grazing the spot where his bond mark would go, his breath hot and ragged on my skin. "I'm your Alpha. And you're going to come on my cock again. You're going to fall apart for me, and then I'm going to knot you so full you feel me for days."
"Yes—yes, Alpha—please—" I was sobbing openly now, tears and sweat mixing on my face, my nails raking down his back hard enough to draw blood, my body arching off the bed with every thrust. The pleasure was too much, too intense, building to something that felt like it might destroy me.
"I can feel you," he groaned, his forehead dropping to mine, sweat dripping between us, his rhythm growing erratic, his knot starting to catch on my rim with every thrust. "Feel you getting close.
Feel you clenching around me." His knot swelled larger, stretching me wider each time he pushed in, the burn of it mixing with the pleasure until I couldn't tell them apart.
"Come for me, Artemis." His voice dropped to a growl, his amber eyes blazing into mine. "Come for your Alpha."
The orgasm crashed through me like a tidal wave, my vision whiting out, my body seizing around him in waves that went on and on. I screamed—his name, or maybe just a wordless sound of release—my inner walls clamping down so hard around his swelling knot that he cursed, his hips stuttering.
"Fuck—fuck, I'm—" His voice cracked, his jaw clenched so tight the muscle jumped, and he slammed home one final time, his knot locking inside me with a stretch.
Then he was coming, his whole body going rigid above me, a guttural groan tearing from his chest, his cock pulsing deep as he filled me.
I could feel every throb, every hot rush of his release flooding me, his knot still swelling, stretching me impossibly wide.
The orgasm didn't stop. My body kept clenching around his knot, kept pulling waves of pleasure from both of us, each pulse of his release triggering another contraction that milked more from him.
I was crying—really crying, ugly sobs that shook my whole body—not from pain but from the sheer overwhelming intensity of it all.
"I've got you." His voice had changed—the feral growl softened to something tender, reverent, even as his body still trembled with aftershocks.
He gathered me against his chest, rolling us carefully so I was draped on top of him, his arms wrapped tight around me, his knot still locked inside.
"I've got you, mon coeur. You did so good. So perfect for me."
"Alpha—" The word came out broken, barely a whisper, my face pressed against his neck, my tears wetting his skin, his pulse thundering against my lips.
I couldn't stop shaking, couldn't stop the tears, my body still spasming around his knot in weakening waves, my fingers clutching weakly at his shoulders. "I can't—it won't stop—"
"Shh. I know." He pressed kisses to my hair, my temple, the shell of my ear, his hands stroking up and down my spine in long, soothing passes. "Just breathe. Let it happen. I'm right here."
I don't know how long we stayed like that—me sobbing against his neck, him murmuring soft French words against my hair, his knot pulsing inside me in diminishing waves.
Long enough for my tears to slow. Long enough for my body to stop shaking.
Long enough for something like peace to settle into my bones.
Then his hand slid up to cup the back of my head, tilting my face toward his throat. Just his pulse jumping wild under my lips, his scent flooding my lungs, and the understanding that passed between us without speaking. This was the moment. This was what we'd been building toward.
I opened my mouth against his neck at the same moment his teeth found my throat.
We bit down together. The world didn't go white—it shattered.
I tasted blood on my tongue, his blood, copper and salt, and felt the answering sting where his teeth had broken through my skin.
The marks would scar. Would stay. When I could breathe again, I was still in his arms, still knotted to him, my back pressed against his chest. He was murmuring something in French, soft broken syllables pressed into my hair, his whole body trembling against mine.
"Mon Dieu," he breathed eventually, his lips moving against my hair, and then he laughed—a wet, wondering sound that shook through both of us.
He pressed a kiss to the bite mark on my neck, and the touch sent a shiver through both of us, an echo of the bond humming between us.
His knot still held us locked together, his body still emptying into mine in lazy pulses.
The houseboat rocked gently beneath us, water lapping at the hull, frogs singing their chorus in the dark.
Time went strange after that. The candles guttered and died one by one. His knot softened eventually, slipping free, and neither of us moved to clean up the mess we'd made of his sheets. The houseboat kept rocking, gentle and endless, and through the window the stars burned bright over the bayou.
"Silas tomorrow," I murmured against his chest, my lips brushing his skin with each word, not a question. The thought should have felt heavy. Instead it felt like the next note in a song—inevitable, right.
"Silas tomorrow," he agreed, pressing his lips to my hair, his arms tightening around me briefly. "Lucky bastard has no idea what's coming."
I laughed, the sound surprising me, my shoulders shaking against his chest. "You're terrible."
"You love it." He pulled me closer, his body curving around mine like he was trying to memorize the shape of me, his legs tangling with mine under the sheets. "Sleep now, chere. I've got you."
My eyes were already closing, my body heavy and sated, the bond humming warm between us. The last thing I heard before I drifted off was his voice, soft and rough, singing something in French that I didn't understand but felt in my bones.
Remy Boudreaux, serenading me to sleep after bonding me forever. The most Remy thing that had ever happened.
I wouldn't have had it any other way.