Chapter Twenty
I pass out still stuck on Connor’s knot. I wake to discover he’s rolled us over, and I’m splayed on top of his chest. His knot has released, and I can feel all the cum and slick that’s leaked out of me onto his abdomen. He’s quiet but for the steady rise and fall of his breaths.
I roll off him, intent on going to shower off some of the bodily fluids. My feet have barely touched the floor before his hands wrap around my waist and pull me back into the bed.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he growls into my ear.
“I need to shower off.”
“No you don’t.” He nuzzles at my neck, licking my scent glands. “Smell amazing. Smell like me.”
“I smell like sex and cum.”
“As you should. It’s perfect.”
“It’s gross?—”
He snarls and nips at the nape of my neck. The further into rut he slides, the more primal and animalistic he’s going to get. Alphas turn into total cavemen during an omega’s heat.
“No. It’s not.”
“Connor—”
He swings me toward my full-length mirror and parts my legs, spreading my labia with two fingers.
“Look at yourself.”
I glance into the mirror. My hair’s in wild knots, my skin flushed with blood, eyes wild and glassy.
There are hickeys and teeth marks on my neck and breasts from my mate’s mouth.
Connor’s countenance is dark and savage—his body marked up in a similar manner from my nails and teeth.
He looks even bigger than usual, his shoulders framing mine and his muscles at full pump despite our rest. The veins popping out on his forearms are big enough to bite.
He slides a third finger between my legs, and I wince at the soreness.
“Look at what I did to you.”
My pussy is raw and abused. Red, stretched open, leaking spend.
Connor’s lips curl around my ear. “I’m going to be fucking and knotting this greedy little hole all week long. You’re going to be plugged and stuffed and kept full. Your first time was tame compared to what I want to do to you.”
He strokes my clit, and my hips writhe. More cum leaks out of me, and he swipes it up with two fingers and slips it between my lips.
I freeze as the flavor hits my tongue and lights up my insides like a Christmas tree. I suck it off his fingertips, then lick him clean of any trace. He hooks his fingers inside my mouth and massages the inside of my cheek.
“My cock has everything you need during your heat, mate. My semen is soothing, hydrating, and lubricating. So you’re not going to wash it off unless you’re already stuffed on my next knot, ready to take more.”
That familiar, gnawing ache in my abdomen returns, and my pussy clenches and drips slick at his words.
His nose traces my neck, stubble scraping my sensitive flesh. “Your scent’s blooming again, Lana.
I writhe in his lap, circling my hips atop his growing erection.
“I need you.”
Connor lifts me by the waist and sits me on top of his giant cock. The stretch is swift and immediate as he lets me go and I slide all the way down to his balls.
I gasp like I had the breath knocked out of me. He’s impossibly large, and he just dropped me on top of his shaft and let gravity and slick do the work.
The mirror lets me see just how wide he’s stretching me open.
We moan together as he clenches my hips and pulls me up and down his cock. Watching him work my hole like this does something to me. I brace my hands on his quads and start to ride him, swiveling my hips to spell out coconut —a sex tip I saw on the internet once. Connor’s breath hitches in my ear.
“That’s it. Ride your alpha’s dick.”
We start slow, but soon I’m bouncing up and down, assisted by his hands on my waist. Inches of turgid flesh slide in and out of me with each movement.
“Touch yourself. I want to watch you come on my cock.”
I slip my fingers against my clit and toss my head back into the cradle of his neck.
“That’s it. I feel you tightening around me.”
My vision whites out as my fingers stroke around my engorged clit and he thrusts harder. He’s impossibly deep. Then my walls clamp down around him.
“Connor!”
“Fuck. Fuck, baby.”
My body wants to fold forward as I come undone atop him, but he keeps me upright, his arm an iron bar around my chest. I can see everything he's doing to me.
The wet gleam of my juices on his cock as he rides me out.
He tightens his grip on me and shoves me up and down his cock, pounding into me now.
Using me like a little flesh-sleeve to finish getting off as I come undone atop him.
He slams me down to the root of his shaft and grunts as his knot swiftly balloons inside me, locking me to him and shooting me full of spend.
“Holy shit.”
I’m not sure which of us even said it. My insides are quaking with the aftershocks of pleasure.
Tears leak out the corners of my eyes. The intimacy, the vulnerability of what’s happening between us—it’s overwhelming.
Thinking of him doing this with anyone else sends jealousy burning through me. It should have been me. Only me.
We continue like that for hours. All concerns except my heat fall to the wayside.
The sounds of our coupling are wet and sloppy.
Fluid soaks my sheets and mattress. I’m dripping copious amounts of slick, and Connor’s made me squirt on his cock multiple times.
He fills me with more cum than my pussy can possibly hold, and when it leaks out, he scoops it back into me and has me clean his fingers with my tongue.
Other times he paints my body with it, drenching me with his scent.
I get on all fours, and he pins me down by the neck and slams home, the heavy thrust of his hips bruising my ass. He has me grip the headboard and rails me until my head starts bumping against the wood.
“I hate myself for missing this. For not being buried inside you for the past three years.”
My pussy loosens with slick and play, but he still stretches me wide to the point of pain.
I feel like a little fuck doll for him to shove his cock into over and over again, and I love everything about it.
That mindless detachment where everything is physical and the body reigns supreme.
There are no thoughts of the outside world or the future.
Nothing aside from the glide of skin and nerve endings firing, and I like it that way.
We exist in a purely physical realm for the duration of my heat.
I come on his knot again and again, clenching around him and milking him of all his cum.
“That’s it, baby. Fucking squeeze that dick.”
He’s falling deeper and deeper into rut, reverting to his primal self. When I try to leave the nest for a washcloth, he growls and pulls me back in. He’s rubbed so much cum into my skin and glands that I’ll never be rid of his scent. It’s an integral part of me now.
He fulfills all his alpha duties. After I pass out from fucking, he calls and orders us food and other supplies. He feeds me strawberries and coaxes me to drink water while he teases my pussy with the head of his dick, refusing to slide home until I finish off a bottle.
He feeds me his cum and whispers in my ear about what an important role it plays in hydration and nutrition during my heat. How I can’t swallow enough of it.
Then I’m riding him, and my eyes are fastened to his mating gland. The flesh is raised and red from me sucking and nibbling on it all day.
He pulls me toward him to kiss me as his hips piston in and out of me.
He grips my waist, working me up and down his cock, reaching a speed with his thrusts that I couldn’t. I fasten my mouth around his mating gland, sucking hard.
“Want to bite you,” I moan.
“Do it.”
I still. “Really?” I curse myself for asking, for giving him a chance to take it back. I want him bound to me forever.
“I’m yours,” he groans. “Every part of me.”
He holds my head to his neck as he pumps in and out of me.
Connor’s breath starts to hitch in a familiar pattern, and I sink my teeth into his gland. I bite down until I taste blood. His knot explodes inside me, stretching me as full as I’ve ever been. Then he’s coming, emptying his balls in thick spurts until my belly starts to cramp with the fullness.
“Fuck. Fuck, Birdy.”
I just mated him. Doubts start to leak in, but they’re broken up by him trying to keep thrusting after his knot locks inside of me, making the bulb of flesh tug against the clasp of my labia.
I come again in response, spasming around his knot.
He takes care of everything. On day two or three—it's hard to tell when the days blur together in a fog of sea and need—I have a rare flash of cognizance. I sit upright in the bed. “Work. I didn’t tell them I was going to be out.”
Connor chuckles.
“Your classes, too. Whatever will Dr. Craven think?”
“Oh my god.”
“Relax. I called and emailed everyone. They know you’re taking the week.”
It was a bit embarrassing that they all knew I was out on heat leave—like telling your gym teacher you couldn’t participate because of your period cramps, but way worse.
But I’d never been out for heat leave before.
They couldn’t bitch about it. Well, Francine could, but with the cat out of the bag I could finally quit the grill. Maybe I'd just never go back.
God, could I finally stop taking so many suppressants?
“I can smell the cogs smoking from here. What are you worrying about?”
“The future.”
“Don’t. It’s going to be okay. I’m here now.”
Connor cuddles me and pets my hair until the haze of heat pulls me back under.
“Thank you.”
After biting him and coming completely undone on his knot, I fall into a restless sleep on Connor’s chest.
When I wake up again, I’m on my pillow. I grope across the bed for him, too tired to open my eyes. But my hands don't find him.
My eyes snap open, and I glance around the room. Nothing. No sign of him.
I check the bathroom, then stumble through my apartment. The anxious void inside me stretches wide, threatening to devour all of my happiness.
He can’t be gone. He just can’t be. Please, don’t be gone.