Chapter 18 #3
I screamed, eyes squeezed shut and arms constricting around his neck. It was good. Too, too good. I’d never recover. I’d never want another inside of me—I’d never fit another inside me. He carved me out, arranging my organs with his cock so he’d be the only one to ever satisfy.
“Fuck!” I cried, squeezing around him again, holding him there. Stars danced when I opened my eyes, trying to find his. “That feels so, so—oh, do that again. Again, do it again!”
I’d never been able to properly stimulate that bundle of nerves on my first wave. The further along I was in my heat, the more that spot would soften and expand, allowing the easiest passage for breeding. Some theorized that the earlier it dropped, the more likely pregnancy was.
I didn’t care about that. All I cared about was chasing the fucking phenomenal and inevitable orgasm it gave me.
He thrust into that spot again, scattering my thoughts like birds. I wanted the head of his cock lodged there for the rest of my life. For forever. Firm and blunt and hot, he was so far inside me he could fill me to the brim with his pups.
I arched even further, throwing my head back while I bounced and ground into the eye-rolling pleasure. The sounds of my slick were obscene. “Again,” I rasped.
“Need to be careful,” he said through clenched teeth. “You’re not ready yet. You’re not open. I could hurt you.”
“Nuh-uh,” I answered with a gasp. “You won’t hurt me. Don’t be careful. I like it. Need you there—need you so much—”
He kissed away the rest of my rambling thoughts and did just as I asked, fucking into me like his caution was helpless against the might of my pleading.
“I need you too,” he said, words clipped and short between thrusts. “You have no idea how much.”
Time didn’t exist. I floated in pleasure, his cock burying deep in me over and over and over. On a particularly hard thrust, my orgasm barreled through me all at once. I cried out, cum splashing into the crushed space between us.
Too soon, I thought wildly. I wanted it to last longer. My cock didn’t flag, though, and I still ached for more.
He swiped his fingers through the mess on my stomach and sucked them into his mouth.
His eyes went nearly black. “I knew you’d taste like mine,” he growled, slamming me down on each of his upward thrusts, no longer careful of bumping against my unprepared gland.
“I knew it. Gonna give you my knot, sweet boy. Gonna—gonna—”
He tensed, arms wrapped tightly around me as he flipped us so my back was on the floor. My legs came up on either side of his hips on instinct, and he hooked one arm under my left knee, anchoring me open for his grinding thrusts.
The stretch felt like nothing else. My eyes flew wide open. “Not gonna fit,” I said, throat raw. “It’s not—”
“It will, omega.” With a focus I’d never seen on a human before, he pressed and coaxed the rapidly swelling base of his cock past my rim. Three rocking thrusts later, he popped inside with a roar.
I screamed, and then I was coming untouched for a second time with the head of his cock jammed against my breeding gland and his knot pushing on my prostate.
I bit his shoulder—not hard enough to have lasting consequences—and trembled, stars dancing in my vision.
Everything went hazy. Distantly, I realized someone kissed the wet tears from my lashes and pushed the damp hair off my forehead.
“Sweetheart? Sweetheart, are you alright?”
I didn’t know his name, but I knew he was mine.
I should know his name. Why don’t I know his name?
“Ssoogood,” I answered. “S’perfect, alpha. I wanna know your name.” Mewling, I wiggled my hips and sent my insides shuddering in aftershocks from all the places he filled me. “Tell me your name, please.”
I felt his sharp intake of breath.
Basking in his warmth pooling right where it belonged, deep inside, I waited. And waited. I wasn’t upset. I probably couldn’t even remember my own name right now, if asked. He could take however much time he needed.
Besides, my womb was already swollen with him—a name was merely a formality at this point.
Safe, my omega purred. Bred. Home.
Yes. We were. Somehow, in him I found both the raging gale and the calmest aftermath; a lonely light keeping me company on the darkest nights.
Vaguely, I was aware of being lifted from the floor, still knotted, and carried into my bedroom. The rain was louder here, pelting against the window right next to my bed. As gently as I’d ever been held, he lowered us onto the duvet, tucking it around me so I was cradled in softness.
And then, so quietly I almost couldn’t hear over the sound of distant thunder, he spoke.
“Atlas,” he said, soft lips moving against mine. “My name is Atlas.”
Atlas.
Atlas.
The name tasted like browned butter and vanilla ice cream on a stormy, summer night.
“Atlas,” I repeated with a whisper. It settled into my bones as if it belonged. Rather than learning it for the first time, it felt like I’d always known and simply needed reminding.
With startling clarity, I realized I was in far, far more danger than I’d ever suspected, and it had nothing to do with the fact that the man still locked inside me was a murderer.
I linked my fingers with his, and tucked in close. “Hello, Atlas.”