Chapter 17 #2
All as he picked apart her insecurities string by string, snapping them in her mind, distracting her with encouragement. “Just like that, pretty girl.”
A little rock of her hips, the Omega stifling a gasp as arousal began to blow her pupils wide. “This?”
“Yes. Doesn’t that feel good, dragging your pussy up and down my cock? Using me for your fun? I want you to. Those ridges are yours. Isn’t it nice when they catch on your clit?”
She was not going to answer, Jules purposefully vulgar and never one to waste words. Each a weapon and an invitation that kept her focused on swiveling her hips and exploring, on relishing sex before Jacques interfered.
Though he would. It was inevitable.
The Alpha had his part to play too.
He would rage to feel Brenya’s pleasure, or cry. Gods, watching him cry had been highly fulfilling, Jules looking forward to doing it again.
And such thoughts may have made Jules even harder, giving Brenya more to play with.
“Feel how much I want you,” he rasped, his lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses up the column of her throat. “How much you please me.”
A female sigh, another dribble of slick, Brenya curling her toes and accidentally catching the spongy head of his cock on her opening.
She let out a cry, an adorable, needy squeal, and with that, he took Brenya’s mouth, took control, the kiss turning filthy, messy, urgent, Jules licking his way inside.
Exciting her more than she could handle.
Sliding one hand down to grip her waist while the other tangled in her wet hair, Jules kissed her like a man possessed, like a starving man at a feast, like he couldn’t get enough of her.
Passionate.
Deeply pleased. Pouring reassurance into her, infecting her with encouragement, turning his wife into a beautifully disheveled mess hungry for Beta cock right as Jacques began to torment her.
Or, at least, to try.
But the Alpha had been made far more impotent, that one meeting enough to give Brenya greater sovereignty.
And she noticed, her voice cracking, raw, as she pulled away confused. “I don’t hear him…. I mean, I feel him, and he’s angry, but I can’t hear him telling me to stop.”
Beneath the distress, there was a flicker of something new. Something dangerously close to hope. Full eyes staring down at Jules as if she saw a man cursed by his own demons in desperate need of salvation. An evil man with secret knowledge.
As if he had saved her.
As if it was she who would save him.
The foolish, beautiful girl having yet to realize that he relished ruling hell, especially when it was bathed in her light.
Notched at her dripping entrance, Jules teased with shallow thrusts, hinting at what waited if she would only accept him. “Then, by all means, don’t stop. Sit back and take what’s yours, Brenya.”
“I…”
“It’s okay. Yes, like that,” Jules groaned, breath coming in short pants as she began to split her fluttering cunt on eager cock. “Good girl. No need to rush.”
It was agony of the best sort, feeding his throbbing dick into her tight, drooling hole, waiting for his wife to commit, to open, to slide down until she’d swallowed all of him.
Jules letting her take her time, exploring inch by delicious inch.
Her succulent passage, every ridge and fold, accepting him inside a dripping pussy so tight he could cum with an errant thought.
“You feel incredible,” he breathed, momentarily still as he savored how perfectly he’d restored her.
And then triumph, wet pulsations of her inner muscles squeezing his meat, starved for cum as she finally bottomed out, their bodies fully enmeshed.
Jules’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips, fighting every instinct to roll her onto her back and pound her cunt into submission. To wind her up into so much need she would do or say anything he wished.
The way her tits heaved, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath as she sat up and pressed a hand to her lower belly, as if feeling him inside and out, struggling just a little to take him.
As if this was the first time this position had been anything but agony.
It calmed him before he could do something stupid.
Stroking a finger under her chin, Jules tucked away the beast within and set aside his needs for hers.
“Shh, darling. You’re in control. Take a breath, give yourself a moment to stretch.
You will adapt, and you don’t need to be afraid.
We can stop at any time.” His touch slid up Brenya’s ribs, cupping the weight of her breast, Jules worshiping it with a possessive squeeze, the stiffness of her nipple poking into his palm, as he said, “When you’re ready, we can play.
You can see what you like. I’ll be patient. Does it feel nice, angel?”
“It feels—” The words caught off on a moan as Brenya felt him jump inside her, Jules flexing a muscle that twitched his cock, knowing exactly what he was doing to her.
“I know.” Leaning up, he captured one of her nipples between his teeth, worrying the sensitive bud with light nips and soothing licks, smiling at Brenya’s helpless little whimpers. “You feel amazing.”
Omega desire pulsed through the bond between them, a constant, insistent drumbeat that had Brenya rocking her hips in little, unsure hitches. All as her hands roamed over his chest, as if reassuring herself that it was him.
Not the other.
Gods, was she tight. That pussy he’d crafted from the ruin Jacques had left her with, absolutely perfect. A triumph, a monument of his skill.
And she deserved to learn how to enjoy it.
Carefully taking her hips in his hands, Jules showed Brenya how to cant her hips to meet his slow, upward thrusts with her own sinful rolls and grinds.
“My love,” he breathed, starting up with abject adoration. “I’ll never give you a knot, but I’ll always give you this.”
This intense attention. A level of skill that he would dedicate to her until the end of time.
Breathless, growing braver as she undulated those sweet hips, Brenya could not stop herself from admitting, “I want this.”
Those sweet words sent a fresh pulse of pleasure through him, Jules flexing his buttocks, driving himself impossibly deeper, groaning at the way Omega cervix kissed the tip of his cock.
Anything. He would do anything to keep this feeling. To keep her.
“And I’ll give you pleasure, Brenya. More than you can— ah, fuck! That’s it,” Jules panted, unable to stop himself from pumping upward, seeking more of her. “Keep grinding, just like that. Work your hips; pleasure yourself on my cock. It’s yours.”
She did. Losing herself in indulgence on her terms.
He caught her hands, interlacing their fingers, supporting her so she could ride him as she would, as he said, “Look at me. Gods, never stop looking at me that way.”
Vulnerable, naked to him in a way she’d never been with Jacques.
Jules didn’t need the pair-bond in that moment to see her, those honey eyes laying bare the deepest parts of her soul.
His soul. Her soul was his.
To replace the one he’d lost.
“I love you.” He meant every word.
And her face contorted as if pained, her pussy twisting around his cock murderously tight. Jaw loose, she took, using his cock for her pleasure, lashes fluttering as her eyes lost focus.
The sensation was indescribable, Jules gritting his teeth to maintain control so she could experience this as she deserved.
Where their fingers were interlaced, she held tight, smearing her pussy over his pubis, dragging her clit over him, legs shaking, hips grinding her down as a cry tore from her throat, echoing through the bedchamber and likely beyond the Red Room’s walls.
His balls drew up tight, climax building at the base of his spine, as Jules buried his face in Brenya’s neck, inhaling her scent, feeling her pulse jump against his lips. So close, so…
“Please,” a female beg, an Omega cry for her mate to join her.
That drove him past his breaking point, Jules lowing like a dying beast. And then the pulsations, the eruptions, shaft and balls throbbing as that first load sent his mate’s cunt into greedy milking convulsions that sucked the cum right out of him.
A delicious, squelching sound, the thick slurry of his seed leaking out around his cock as he continued to pump his hips until he’d given her every potent drop.
Drawing their joined hands down to where he’d stuffed her full, Jules murmured, “Curl your fingers and put two inside yourself. Yes, Brenya, you need to do this. Slip them in next to my cock and feel for where you ache—a spongy, walnut texture.”
She resisted when he released their interlaced fingers, Jules shaping her palm into the proper form and helping her squeeze those delicate fingers into a pussy already full of cock.
“Do you feel it? Find it, angel. Good, now press hard. Harder. Rub if that feels good.” He nipped at her earlobe, Jules’s voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
“This is how you can give yourself the sensation of a knot if I’m not with you.
So that you don’t have to suffer. Learn to make yourself feel good. There you go. Play.”
Each uncertain, untried upward thrust of her fingers pushed more sticky Beta cum out of her sweet pussy, but Brenya found it. She found one needy bundle of nerves and dug her fingers in until her eyes rolled back in her skull.
It wasn’t a knot. She lacked Jules’s finesse. But it was the secret she’d been missing.
It was relief.
And for one blissful moment, it was her pleasure alone. No Jules or Jacques required.
“Good girl.”