Chapter 14
Lucien
Goddamn, my legs are shaky. I’m in the kitchen, trying to stay upright while Branson puts away a veritable shit ton of lasagna.
There’s something carnal about the way he eats.
He’s standing, holding the plate near his face, shoveling it in with his other hand.
His throat works when he swallows. His jaw bunches hard when he chews, and I see a tiny muscle jumping despite all his facial hair.
It’s coarse, his facial hair. I thought it would be, but it’s coarser than I was expecting. It feels nice between my fingers, thick and straight. Like something I want to rub my face in.
Branson takes another bite and sets his empty plate on the counter.
He chews, and I tremble. My knees knock and my thighs, calves, and ass cheeks quiver.
Tendrils of heat snake up my legs and unfurl again.
It’s familiar now, this feeling. No less intense than it was the first time it happened, but I recognize it now. I anticipate it. Welcome it almost.
Hot rods solidify and slide up through my femurs and down my spinal column. Arousal aches and spins me into a vortex.
A wave surges through me, cresting with shocking force.
A thin, desperate cry leaves me.
I turn in Branson’s direction. He’s close to me, I know that, I can see that, but I still feel panicked that he isn’t touching me. He seems to sense that about me because he reaches out immediately, placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing hard.
Panic fizzles and dies. Desire rears up and consumes me.
He lifts me. My feet dangle in the air for a moment and then he sets me down on the counter. I let him. I don’t make any suggestions or have any preference on how he takes me. All I care about is that he fucks me.
I lie back, legs parting wide without any encouragement as he takes my hips in his hands and moves me closer until half my ass is hanging off the counter and my hole is on offer.
He penetrates me smoothly, a single thrust that takes me from painfully empty to completely, perfectly full. Murmurs and the pain upon entry are a distant memory now. Now, there’s only pleasure. Only raw, exposed nerves chanting in gratification. Only his body and mine. His body in mine.
My first orgasm is almost instant, and he fucks me through it without slowing down or giving me time to recover. Each thrust forces me open a little wider, fills me a little deeper, cranks me to the highest heights and keeps me there.
When I open my eyes, ceiling beams blur above me, and Branson’s alpha groans bounce off the walls. My skin tingles, electrified and sensitized.
My thoughts wander as desire creeps down my body. Down my chest, past my navel, and pools in my dick. It aches, physically aches from arousal, heat, and neglect. A hot rod that’s screaming for familiar sensation. The feeling Branson is injecting up my ass is amazing. It’s everything.
And yet, I want more.
I take my dick in my hand. My touch is gentle and tentative, terrified. I tense in anticipation as I do it, and thank fuck I was careful. It’s too much. It’s still way, way too much.
I howl and shake in frustration.
“Aw, baby,” Branson says, his soothing voice washing over me and rubbing all hint of discomfort away. “You can’t handle that yet. You’re not ready.”
“More,” I whine in disappointment, hooking my hands on the edge of the counter and bracing myself as I open my legs a little wider. My thighs burn with the effort, but it buys me a little more dick in my ass.
Branson’s head bobs in my field of vision, rocking back and forth as he drills his dick into me. “D’you want me to try something? It might make you feel better.”
I nod emphatically. I don’t know what Branson’s suggesting, but I know that if he’s the one offering, I want it. If it’s something that pertains to my dick, then I definitely want it.
He keeps fucking me at a no-nonsense pace, and he doesn’t slow as he reaches down.
He circles my balls and the base of my shaft between his forefinger and thumb and holds my junk tightly.
It’s an explosion of sensation. A triumph.
A marriage made in heaven. My ass, cock, and balls all thrum in pleasure.
I come fast and noisily. A messy orgasm that splashes all over my chest and resets my brain. Then, before I’ve recovered, I come again. New pleasure crashes on top of old pleasure. New waves on old waves.
Wave upon wave.
Again and again.
I come so much that I don’t move a muscle when he pulls out of me. I can’t. I can’t open my eyes or close my mouth. I can’t lift my head.
When my feet touch timber, there’s a soft splash as the massive load he dumped in me overflows and spills onto the floor.
I’m barely aware of him cleaning me up and carrying me to bed, but he must because, when the heat burns again, I open my eyes and find myself back in my nest with Branson’s big body curled around me.
It’s late afternoon, and he’s inside me. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting long rays that flit over Branson’s back as we buck together.
It’s nighttime, and he’s inside me. Owls hoot.
Insects screech. The sounds of the woods are different when the moon is high.
The sounds we make at night are the same as the ones we made during the day.
Branson’s hands roam my body and his dick pistons in and out of me.
Slick, tacky slaps ring out in time with my heart as our bodies collide.
I come over and over, my mind bending a little more each time it happens.
I drift. Restless and hot. Asleep. Awake. Sated, then burning to ash. Empty, then full. Aching, then shattering harder than I ever imagined possible.
Over.
And over.
It’s relentless. A match that sets me on fire but doesn’t turn me to ash. A blistering heat that won’t burn out.
It’s morning, and I should be exhausted, but I’m not. I feel different today than I did yesterday, strangely fresh and focused. Yesterday was an onslaught. A shock. Until yesterday, my partners had always been omegas or betas. I’d never taken an alpha cock in my ass, not even the tip.
Yesterday was a reaction. Today is different. Today is proactive. Yesterday, Branson fucked me, and I loved it. I wanted it, and I begged for it. I rejoiced in it. Yesterday, Branson came because it’s a side effect of fucking a dick into a hole.
Today is going to be different.
Today, I’m going to ride him. I’m going to make him come. It won’t be a side effect or a byproduct of a damn thing. It’ll be me using my body against him. Me making sure he understands that there’s no omega in the world like me. No better hole for his big alpha cock.
Today, it’ll be me making him mine.
Wait. What?
Making him mine? What the hell?
Who talks like that?
Ah. It’s the heat. Heat talks like that.
It’s the heat talking, not me. I have heat brain.
That’s what’s happened. It’s to be expected.
Alphas aren’t the only ones who get possessive when hormones run wild.
Omegas are known to guard their mates just as fiercely when they have heat in their bones.
It’s nothing to worry about. It’s completely normal.
It’ll go away as soon as my heat passes.