Chapter 23 #2
He sits up, all that muscle flexing like a threat. I’m on my knees, and suddenly he’s right there, towering in front of me. He reaches over to his nightstand, pulls open the drawer, and brings out something dark and soft.
Fabric cuffs.
I swallow hard.
He dangles them from two fingers.
My breath hitches. “Oh.”
He leans in. “These stay on until you say otherwise. Is that okay?”
I nod, but he waits.
“Yes,” I say, voice small.
“And if you want to stop at any point?—”
“I’ll tell you.”
He nods once, then reaches behind me. His big hands are surprisingly gentle as he gathers my wrists together and fastens the cuffs. The soft fabric hugs my skin. I shiver.
“You’re shaking.”
“Not because I want to stop.”
His eyes flare at that. “Good.”
Then, to my complete surprise, he flops onto his back and throws his arms behind his head again like he’s presenting himself.
“All right, sweetheart. You get first go. Climb on, cowgirl, and show me what you want.”
My throat dries up. He’s stretched out like a damn fantasy, golden skin and all that carved muscle, and that cock, God. So hard. So huge. Waiting for me.
I straddle his hips, my knees on either side of him. His cock presses against me, and I moan under my breath, unable to help it.
“You’re soaked already,” he murmurs.
“You’re the reason.”
I rock my hips slightly, teasing him, and his eyes darken. “Is this what you pictured in the maze?” I whisper. “Me riding you, making you beg?”
His jaw flexes. “You’re playing with fire.”
“Maybe,” I tease.
His hands twitch behind his head, but he doesn’t move.
“I’ve been thinking about how you felt inside me. How thick you were. How good it was.”
His groan is guttural.
I shift my hips, the tip of him brushing my slick entrance.
“You okay?” he asks, voice tight.
“Yes.”
“Then take what you need.”
I do.
Slowly. Inch by inch. The stretch burns in the best way. My eyes flutter closed, mouth falling open as I sink onto him.
He’s thick. Deeper than I remember. Or maybe it’s just that I’m finally seeing all of him, claiming him without any maze walls or rushed moments.
When I settle down, fully seated, he curses, “Fuck, Cindy.”
“Still in charge?”
“For now.”
“Then don’t move.”
His smirk is pure sin. “Yes, ma’am.”
I start to ride him. Slowly at first, letting myself adjust, feeling every inch of him. He watches me closely.
My slick is everywhere. It drips, and the wet sounds as I move are obvious, but I don’t care. I’ve never felt more powerful, more wanted.
“You look so fucking incredible,” he rasps. “Your tits bouncing, your lips all parted like that. You were made for this.”
“For you?” I tease, breathless.
He growls. “No doubt in my mind.”
I lean back slightly, changing the angle. Stars explode behind my eyes.
“Fuck, Holt?—”
“I’ve got you,” he says, voice trembling with restraint. “Ride me as long as you need. I’ll be here. I’ll always be here.”
And with that, I know I’m not just losing control; I’m giving it to him. Willingly. Desperately.
And it’s never felt so good.
My thighs quake as an orgasm slams into me unexpected. I shudder, moaning, trying not to wake up the whole damn house.
“Fuck,” he hisses.
His hands suddenly fly to my waist, his breath coming fast as I grind against the thick length beneath me. He groans low and deep, his voice ragged. “That’s it. Soak me. Drip all over me, pretty girl.”
And I do.
I keep coming undone, my body trembling as wave after wave overtakes me. My wrists pull against the restraints as I fall apart. I’m panting, dazed, as the rush fades.
As I float down from the heavens, his hands grip my waist tighter. “Not done yet.”
He sits up suddenly, so fast it makes me squeak, and lifts me off his cock as if I’m nothing more than a doll. He sets me back onto my knees gently and smirks. “Fair’s fair. My turn.”
I giggle breathlessly. “You make me nervous when you say it like that.”
His expression softens. “I’d never do anything you don’t enjoy, sweetheart. You say the word, I stop. Always.”
I nod, breath hitching. “I know. I trust you.”
He kisses my cheek and slides out of bed, only to kneel behind me on the mattress, that hulking body moving like a predator. The brush of his cock between my thighs is teasing, promising.
“Lean forward for me,” he murmurs.
I do, chest to the bed, cheek against the sheets. He places a big palm on my spine, running it slowly and warmly down to my lower back, coaxing me into position. I gasp as he eases my knees wider, baring me.
“Perfect,” he breathes. “The view from here… fuck, Cindy. I’ll never stop cherishing it.”
My moan is raw and hungry, because I feel that desperation in his voice, the way he worships every inch of me.
Then he’s there. His cock at my entrance.
And he slides into me with a long, deep thrust that knocks the breath from my lungs. I cry out. The stretch, the pressure, it’s everything. It’s him.
“Tell me if I’m too much. Too hard,” he says, voice a rough whisper.
I groan, my hips pushing back against his. “It’s how I want it.”
He growls a feral, possessive sound and claims me like he’s starving. His hands grip my hips tightly as he thrusts, slowly at first, dragging it out until I’m squirming, begging for more. Each movement is dominant, letting me feel every inch of his cock driving into me.
He leans over me, his chest brushing my bound arms, his mouth hot at my ear. “You feel that? That’s me owning you. Filling you so deep there’s no space left for anyone else.”
“Holt…” I pant his name, desperate.
He grips my hair, not hard, just enough to tilt my head. “You’re mine, Cindy. My perfect fit. My addiction.”
I can’t form words. All I can do is take it. The rhythm builds, relentless, controlled. He watches the way I take him, the way I fall apart. I can also feel him in my spine, my toes curling, sweat slicking our bodies.
“You’re taking me so well, fuck,” he groans. “So greedy for it, aren’t you?”
I whimper, the tension in my core spiraling. “Please. Please, Holt.”
His hand dips between my legs, fingers finding my clit, and that’s it.
I shatter.
It’s white-hot, a climax that steals the air from my lungs and the strength from my limbs. My cry is muffled by the sheets, my hips jerking as he rides me through it.
He’s panting, losing control. His fingers dig into my hips as he thrusts harder. “Gonna fill you up, Omega. You want that? Want to be full of me?”
“Yes,” I sob. “God, yes.”
And that’s all it takes.
He growls, hips jerking. “Fuck, that’s it. Gonna knot you, baby. Brace yourself.”
His knot swells inside me, locking us together. I feel every thick inch of him pulsing, stretching me to the edge of pain again, but it’s laced with mind-numbing pleasure. I whimper, helpless and full.
He doesn’t stop moving, slow thrusts meant to milk every last drop of his release.
“So tight,” he groans. “You’re holding me so well.”
He’s flooding me, thick warmth spreading, the pressure intense. I can’t move, can only moan and writhe beneath him, completely undone.
As the wave finally ebbs, he lets out a deep, satisfied sigh and reaches for my wrists.
The cuffs click open, falling away as he scoops his big hands under me, sliding around to cup my breasts.
“Come here,” he murmurs.
Still joined, he lifts me gently until I’m upright, my back against his broad chest, both of us on our knees.
He holds me like I’m precious, his knot still inside me, and the way it pulses with every little twitch has me moaning.
“How are you feeling, my little Omega?”
I’m gasping, boneless in his arms. “I had no idea what to expect being with an Alpha and being knotted. It’s… it’s there. So much. A tiny hurt… but also so good.”
He chuckles, warm against my neck. “You feel incredible. Embracing me so tightly.” He leans in and presses a kiss to my ear, then down to my neck, and lower yet. “Beautiful,” he whispers. “You’re mine. Ours.”
Then he bites me.
Right in the curve of my neck.
I cry out, the sharp sting turning into a rush of euphoria that leaves me trembling.
I’ve just been marked.
And I never want this moment to end.
His knot is still swollen inside me, locking us together, his arms wrapped tightly around my middle. His chest rises and falls against my back, slowing now, but steady. Warm. Real.
I’ve never felt this wrecked and whole all at once. My body aches in the best way, stretched and sated and safe. The storm of need that had me crawling to his room now feels like a distant memory, soothed under the weight of his possessive hold.
He brushes his nose along the shell of my ear, then presses a kiss to the back of my neck. “Still breathing, sweetheart?”
I let out a soft laugh, too content to open my eyes. “Barely.”
His chuckle rumbles against me, deep and pleased. “You did good.”
“Mmm.” My head tips back slightly, resting against his shoulder. “You did better.”
A comfortable silence settles between us, broken only by our breathing and his occasional soft stroke across my skin. I sense every inch of him inside me. But it’s no longer overwhelming. It’s grounding.
My eyelids are heavy now. Sleep pulls at me, warm and drugging. Then the words fall out. “I’m falling for you,” I murmur, almost too soft to hear. “For all of you. And it scares the shit out of me.”
His arms tighten around me just a little. No teasing, no slick response. Just the quiet exhale of a man who hears what I didn’t mean to say out loud.
“You’re safe here,” he says, his voice a low promise against my skin. “No one’s going anywhere. We fucking adore you.”
I want to believe him.
I think part of me already does.
The last things I feel before sleep pulls me under are his lips brushing my temple and the steady beat of his heart against my back.