Chapter 10 #2
I was pretty sure Saint would fight me for control and muscle me into whatever position he wanted me.
I thought he’d pin me down, like he’d done for a couple of my previous waves, and fuck me like I had no choice.
Instead, he let out a breath and went limp under me.
Not his cock, of course, and the drive to mate that rut caused in alphas was definitely still there, but I was the one in the driver’s seat.
I liked it. I’d never felt so alive before. I brought my mouth crashing down over his, taking what I wanted from him and reveling in every second of it. I plundered his mouth like he’d done with me, grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling slightly as a show of force.
The sounds Saint made as I had my fill told me he liked it.
That and the way he grabbed my ass with one hand and squeezed.
That aggressive touch just reminded me that I needed his cum in every part of me, all over me.
I broke away from his mouth, panting, and pushed my way down until I lay between his legs with my face at his groin.
It felt so good to take what I wanted. I rubbed my face against his balls and breathed in his scent.
I would never get enough of it, I was sure.
I sucked one of his huge, full balls into my mouth and played my tongue over it, causing him to tense and growl.
Even that wasn’t enough, though. I let him go, caught my breath for a second, then licked my way up the underside of his thick shaft.
“Fuck, Linus,” Saint growled, still gripping the spermicide bottle in one hand and now fisting the bedcovers in the other.
I barely got as far as licking his head like it was ice cream before thick spurts of cum jetted from him.
It splashed my face and lips, which I loved, then kept coming as I closed my mouth around him to suck and swallow.
Saint made a sound almost like he was in pain and jerked his hips up, pushing his cock all the way to the back of my throat as I continued to swallow.
His seed inside me soothed the fire of my heat wave, but sucking his cum was like dribbling a garden hose on an inferno. I needed more.
As soon as Saint’s first orgasm subsided, I scrambled up his body again, splaying over him, and kissed him. His eyes were glazed over, and if I didn’t know better, I’d have said I’d blown his mind. I loved the feeling and the quick gasp and groan as he tasted himself in my mouth.
“More,” I panted, rocking back. “I want more.”
Truer words had never been spoken. I didn’t realize how much more I wanted, from this heat wave and from my life, until I pulled back and grabbed the spermicide bottle from Saint’s hand.
I wanted passion and excitement. I didn’t want to be sweet Mr. Cahill, primary school teacher doormat, anymore.
I wanted to be ravenously sexy and powerful.
I squirted a huge dollop of gel on my hand, then knelt up so I could reach behind me and push as much of it into my gaping, slick-wet hole as I could.
I was so mad with lust that my hole opened even more as I touched it, even though it was my own hand.
It wasn’t going to be my own hand for long, though.
As soon as I’d wiped all the spermicide into myself, I shimmied until I’d lined up with Saint’s cock. Saint watched me with lust-hazed eyes as I grabbed him to hold him steady, then lowered myself decisively onto him.
We both made crazy-sexy sounds as I sat, bringing him deeper and deeper into me.
The whole being on top thing was new to me, but I caught on quickly.
My leg muscles worked as I lifted and sat, lifted and sat, over and over, faster and faster, to give myself the friction and depth that I craved.
I couldn’t get enough of him, and within a minute, I was riding him like there was no tomorrow.
“Linus,” Saint roared, grabbing my hip with one hand and my rigid dick with the other.
That totally tipped me over the edge. I started coming, soaking his hand with my cum as my body heated and seemed to blossom with him inside me.
He could get so much deeper and hit against the mouth of my womb so much harder with me on top.
I loved the sensation of his head hammering against my womb, knocking, demanding, forcing.
And then it happened. With a cry so intense I couldn’t even vocalize it anymore, the mouth of my womb gave way and Saint pushed all the way inside me.
I think he called out, too, but everything flashed into blinding, all-consuming pleasure as my womb clamped around him and my body began to milk him for every last drop of seed he had.
His knot swelled, locking us together doubly.
His body had mine trapped, but my womb made it impossible for him to escape as well.
I swear, I felt every spurt of his cum inside me, felt my womb engorged with it.
The pleasure took over my entire body, making every cell sizzle and every sinew shudder with orgasm.
I would have said that I left my body for a second, but it was exactly the opposite.
I’d never been more fully in my body before, and Saint was there with me.
It was like our bodies were one body, our souls were one soul.
If I hadn’t prepped with spermicide, I was one hundred percent certain I would have conceived right then and there.
The breeding orgasm went on for so long time didn’t matter anymore.
I was lost in it until the sparkly edges of my consciousness began to return.
When they did, I realized I’d fallen forward at some point.
Saint was still knotted in me and he had his arms around me.
I could still feel his cockhead trapped inside my womb, and every once in a while, he jerked, like he was having an aftershock orgasm.
I had one every time he did, which was brilliant, as far as I was concerned.
“I didn’t think alphas had aftershock orgasms,” I said as I started to catch my breath.
“Neither did I,” Saint replied.
I froze. I hadn’t actually spoken aloud, and neither had Saint. I’d just thought that about alpha aftershock orgasms, and Saint hadn’t spoken his reply either.
I held my breath for a moment and felt around me, if that was the right way to put it.
It was more like reaching out with my awareness to test the space around me.
I was hyper-aware of Saint. I could feel the heat of his body, smell his sandalwood scent, and even taste his sweat on my lips from where I had my face pressed against his neck and shoulder. But it was more than that. Much more.
I was aware of Saint. Incredibly aware. I knew he was tense, gobsmacked.
It wasn’t just his hands that I felt on my body as we lay together, panting and coming back into ourselves.
I felt his satisfaction and his worry. I knew how much he liked me and how hot he’d thought the sex was, but I could also feel jagged angles of emotion and unhealed scars of fear deep, deep within him.
I reached out mentally to touch him, and he flinched away.
“Saint?” I asked aloud, muscling myself up so I could look down at him for real.
Saint’s eyes were wide, and his tight, possessive grip on me turned just a bit clinging and desperate.
I knew what it was at once, too. “Saint,” I repeated his name, a smile flirting with the corners of my mouth. “I think we just bonded.”