In The Garage #2
He’s panting, his lips swollen and wet, his eyes dazed and dark.
A faint blush stains his cheeks, but his gaze is locked on mine, unwavering. He looks wrecked.
He looks fucking perfect.
"Mine," I growl, then I pick him up, forcing his legs to wrap around my waist. Moving fast, I spin us around, walking straight toward my heavy steel workbench.
With a low growl, I set my mate on the cold metal surface. He moans when I press my hips forward, making him feel my hard length against his belly.
“Warren.” His hands fly out to grip the edge of the bench on either side of his hips. “I need you.”
I yank his T-shirt over his head, my hands immediately roaming the warm, smooth skin of his chest. I need to see him, to feel him, to taste every fucking inch.
My hands shake as I rip my own shirt off, then I wrap him back up in my arms. The skin-on-skin contact makes us both groan as I kiss him once again.
My hands go to his waistband, pulling at the ties of his sweatpants. I don't bother taking them all the way off. I shove them down his thighs along with his boxers. His cock springs free, hard and leaking against his stomach. I wrap my hand around it, stroking him once, twice, to feel him shudder.
"Oh, my god," he breathes, his head falling back against the wall, exposing the long, vulnerable line of his throat.
My gaze drops as I work him over.
His cock is hot and hard in my palm, a perfect, solid weight that makes my own cock throb in response.
He’s smaller than an alpha, a slender, pretty length that fits perfectly in my grip, my fingers easily circling the base.
The skin is velvety soft, a stark contrast to the rigid steel of his erection, and I can feel the frantic, fluttering beat of his pulse through the sensitive shaft.
I stroke him slow, my thumb swiping over the head, smearing the slick bead of precum that’s already gathered there.
It’s smooth and warm, the scent a clean, salty, uniquely beta aroma that makes my mouth water and my alpha instincts roar with the need to claim.
A guttural groan is still in my throat as I sink to my knees before him. The sight of Beck from this angle—head thrown back, chest heaving, and his pretty cock flushed and weeping for me—is a fucking prayer answered.
I don't waste a second. I lean in and swipe a broad, flat lick across the head, tasting the salty-sweet slickness of his precum.
His body jolts, and a sharp, shocked gasp tears from his lips. "Warren!"
I smirk against his sensitive skin before taking him into my mouth.
He’s the perfect size, a slender, velvety length that I can take to the root easily, my nose burying in the neat patch of hair at his base.
I hollow my cheeks, sucking hard as I pull back, my tongue swirling around the ridge before I plunge down again.
I set a punishing rhythm, giving him a hard, dirty blowjob.
One of my hands grips his hip, holding him steady, while the other cups his balls, rolling them gently in my palm. He’s chanting my name now, a broken, desperate litany, his hands flying to my hair, his fingers tangling in the strands, holding on for dear life.
I can feel him getting close, his thighs tensing, his cock twitching on my tongue. I look up his body, meeting his dazed, lust-filled eyes, and give one final, hard suck, and he shatters, crying out as he fills my mouth.
I don't pull away. Instead, I keep him in my mouth, my grip firm on his twitching shaft. I milk him with my lips and tongue, stroking upward in a slow, deliberate rhythm, coaxing out every last drop.
Beck’s body shudders violently, his hands tightening in my hair as I wring him dry, tasting the full, salty essence of his release. I hold it all on my tongue, a warm, intimate offering.
Once my beta’s tremors finally subside, I release him slowly.
He slumps against the wall, as I rise to my feet, my own arousal a painful, demanding pressure behind my zipper.
I hold his gaze as I pull down my jeans and boxers in one rough motion, my thick, alpha cock springing free, flushed and rock-hard.
Without breaking eye contact, I lean in, capturing Beck’s lips in a hard, possessive kiss. I push a little bit of his own cum from my mouth into his in a filthy, intimate sharing of his pleasure. He moans, startled, but accepts it, his tongue swiping out across my lips.
I pull back before I lose all his release, then spit the rest of his cum into my own palm and wrap my hand around my aching length.
The slick, warm wetness is the perfect lubricant.
I coat myself in his essence, stroking from root to tip, the thought of using his own cum to prepare myself for him makes me needy.
The sight of me stroking myself with his own release seems to flip a switch inside Beck.
The dazed, post-orgasmic haze vanishes from his eyes, replaced by a dark, hungry fire, and he moves with a sudden, desperate urgency.
He kicks off his slippers, sending them skittering across the floor.
His hands fly to the sweatpants tangled around his ankles.
He wobbles slightly as he tries to tug them off, his movements clumsy with need.
Finally, he kicks them away impatiently, leaving his beautiful body completely bare before me.
The beta’s chest heaves, his body flushed and ready, his eyes locked on my cock as I work myself with his slickness. He takes a deep breath, then he slowly bends his knees. He lifts his legs, placing the soles of his feet flat on the edge of the workbench, opening himself completely to me.
It’s a silent, unspoken invitation, and the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
His asshole is a tight, pucker of dusky pink. It clenches rhythmically in a silent, desperate plea for my cock. His balls are drawn up tight beneath it, and his pretty dick lies soft against his thin stomach, leaving a faint, glistening trail of its release on his skin.
Positioning myself between his spread thighs, I slick my cum-soaked fingers against his entrance, then I push in.
Beck gasps, his hips rocking down instinctively, trying to draw me in.
I oblige, sinking one finger knuckle-deep into that familiar, incredible heat.
He's tight, always so fucking tight. I pump a few times, then quickly add a second finger, scissoring them, stretching him, stroking his inner walls until he's writhing on the workbench, soft whimpers escaping his lips.
I can't wait any longer.
I need to be inside him.
I pull my fingers free and line up the head of my cock with his loosened hole.
I grip the beta’s hips, holding him steady, then I push forward in one slow, relentless thrust. The feeling of him opening up, of his body stretching to accommodate my thick length, is pure ecstasy.
I sink into him until I'm buried to the hilt, my balls pressed against his ass.
"Alpha!" he chokes out, his nails digging into my shoulders.
I pull back and slam into him, setting a brutal, punishing rhythm.
The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes in the small space, mingling with our ragged breaths and his broken moans.
I watch my slick cock disappear into his body over and over. The sight is so primal, so right, it sends a jolt of possession straight through me.
He's mine.
This perfect, beautiful beta is mine to take, mine to claim, mine to fuck until he can't remember his own name.
I lean over him, covering his body with mine, and bite down hard on the mating mark I put on his shoulder over a year ago. My fangs cut into his skin, and he comes undone beneath me.
A sharp, broken sob tears from Beck’s throat as his second orgasm wrecks him. A small spurt of cum splashes between us, coating my stomach, followed by a vicious clench of his ass around my cock. That’s all it takes to send me hurtling toward the edge.
My body tightens, every muscle coiling like a spring. The pleasure is an inferno building at the base of my spine, a tidal wave of pressure that drowns out everything else.
With a guttural roar that I barely recognize as my own, I slam into my mate one last time, then let go.
My orgasm explodes through me, a blinding, all-consuming force.
My cock jerks deep inside him, pumping him full of my cum in long, powerful pulses.
I bury my face in his neck, my hips grinding against him as I empty myself, my entire world shrinking to the feel of his body trembling beneath mine, the scent of his blood, and the overwhelming, possessive love that threatens to tear me apart.
Slowly, the force of my orgasm begins to recede, leaving a warm, bone-deep satisfaction in its wake. The roaring in my ears quiets, replaced by the sound of our ragged breathing slowly evening out.
I stay buried inside my sweet beta, my weight a comforting pressure, not wanting to break the connection for even a second. My forehead rests against his shoulder, and I breathe him in. The scent of our sweat, his blood, and the unique, clean smell of my mate.
Beck hugs me tight, before tracing a path up my spine and across my shoulders with his blunt nails. The touch is soft, grounding, and full of a tender affection that contrasts sharply with the raw, primal fucking we shared.
“I love you,” Beck whispers, and I lift my head to look at him.
His cheeks are flushed, lips swollen, and his eyes are heavy with sated bliss. A small, contented smile plays on his mouth.
He’s so beautiful.
“I love you too, baby.” I kiss the tip of his nose, then hold him tighter, my arms banding around his back and pulling him flush against my chest. My cock is still buried deep inside him, a warm, intimate connection as it slowly softens.
For a long moment, we stay like that, a tangled, breathless heap on the hard workbench. Then I feel the slow, warm trickle of my own cum as it leaks out of him. It slides around my shaft and down his crease before dripping softly onto the dusty concrete floor below.
Nothing feels better than a dirty fuck with someone you love.