23. Evans #3
“Wait, what are you counting?” I blink, my mind clearly not keeping up as we stare at one another. “You're insufferable."
He tilts his head, smirking. “And yet here you are. Three.”
“Unfortunately.”
“That's not what your pheromones say. Two.”
“Hunter…” My heart races, fluttering around my chest like a hummingbird as it pumps blood around my body so fast it feels like that’s all I can hear, all I can feel besides this insane horniness that has welded itself inside me, sinking into my bones, weighing me down like lead.
He takes another step forward, “Time’s up, get on your knees alpha.”
Scoffing, I hold my ground. “Make me.”
The air vibrates around me, pulsing with raw need. It rushes through every fibre of my being until I feel like I’m drunk.
“With pleasure.”
With every stride towards me, the thicker it gets until I’m choking on it.
While he looks like a predator, lazily circling its prey as it closes in.
All that sinewy muscle and the long graceful lines of his body are purposeful.
It's all so he can lure in his victims. And I’ve been caught.
A rabbit in a trap. A fish on a hook. There's no escape as his pheromones bind me inside my own body.
When he’s standing toe to toe with me, the fucker grins. Where has the relaxed stoner artist gone? The man before me is a beast, in a hedonist’s skin.
“Knees, alpha. Now.”
He doesn’t raise his voice but I feel it, the alpha push. The command laced in, tugging at my core as he used the Alpha Voice on me.
Swallowing hard, I try to fight it. Sweat beads on my forehead, and my muscles tense but resisting is no use. All it does is make my cock twitch.
He waits with more patience than I thought he’d have by now, rut haze clearly claiming him.
But there’s a beat between us where neither of us moves.
This is the moment, the make or break moment where everything is up for grabs.
Two alphas facing off, our biology in the driving seat, battling for dominance.
And I sink to my knees in submission, neck bared to him as his grin stretches even wider. “Good boy, Benny.”
He grabs a handful of my hair with one hand, and frees his swollen, angry looking dick with the other. The slight bulge at the base where his knot is throbs and my mouth waters. Precum dribbles out of his slit, dripping onto the floor in heavy, fat droplets and sticky trails.
Dominant alphas were no joke. With his fist holding me in place, he wraps the other one on the base of his cock, squeezing and massaging the swell of his knot. He smears his cock against my cheek, following the hollow beneath my cheek bone down and trailing across my lips.
Swept up in the raging storm that is Hunter Ashbourne’s rut, drowning so deeply in the lust and the pheromones I’m beyond caring, I part my lips, desperate for a taste of him.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I know I’m an alpha and I should care that I’m on my knees for him, but I don’t because he is mine.
I am his. Pushing out my tongue, I whimper, and he chuckles as he presses his slit over the tip, rubbing up and down with panted breaths.
He tastes like sunshine from our morning by the lake and candied oranges, sweet and slightly sour as I lap and lick, desperate for more.
Continuing his instinctual dominance of me, he covers me in his scent until it’s no longer possible to tell us apart.
Our scents mingle in this maddeningly overwhelming combination that makes my heart feel like it's in my throat.
Palming my cock, I try to find some sort of relief, but one short, angry growl has me raising my hands in defeat.
When he’s satisfied with his scent marking, and my skin is tacky and slick, he grips my jaw and works my mouth open with his thumb before feeding his shaft between my lips, inch by inch.
He’s showing more restraint than I expected as my lips stretch around his girth, but I know this is only the beginning of his rut and soon, everything else will fade away until all that’s left is the need to mate.
I gag as I adjust to the weight of him on my tongue, filling up every inch of me. This isn’t like the competitive blow job this morning, where I had decided how fast or deep to go or if I swallowed his load. No, here he’s the one calling the shots.
Once his fat cockhead hits my tonsils and I swallow, my throat adjusting around him, it’s like a green light has flicked on above us and he thrusts without abandon, snarling and growling as he chases relief.
Clawing at his thighs, I try to find purchase, my own hips rocking as I hump the air. How is this so hot? It can’t all be pheromones.
Hunter fucks my face until tears burn in my eyes, rolling down my cheeks in a steady stream while I gasp for air around his thick shaft.
Spit dribbles from the corners of my mouth and I still don’t care because everything I feel in this moment comes back to him.
Like an omega lost to a heat, I come untouched, flooding my swimming trunks while I groan around him.
Mine. Mine. Mine.