Chapter Five #3
I move lower. Down his stomach, nipping at his hip bone, suckling the skin of his abdomen. I bypass his cock entirely to torture him. I press my mouth to the inside of his thigh, nipping the delicate skin, and he jerks, a sharp gasp tearing out of him.
“More,” he whispers. “Want your tongue in my ass.”
“How can I say no when you ask so nicely?” I push his thighs wider and lower my mouth to his hole.
He swears under his breath as I swipe my tongue up his taint.
I groan at his musky, masculine scent. He’s dripping with slick, and when my tongue drags through that slippery nectar, he groans.
He bucks his hips as I begin to eat him out with a ferocity that has him writhing on the sheets.
His hips rock against my face, pushing his toes into the mattress so he can push himself deeper on my tongue.
His hands fist my hair as he pants and moans.
When I finally give his drooling cock some attention, stroking him lazily, he shudders and whimpers with relief.
“Jesus, fuck yeah,” he pants harshly.
I lick, stroke, and suck him for a bit longer, loving his sounds and the way his body trembles when I plunge my tongue inside him. He watches me between his thighs, his eyes glittering with carnal need. His lips are parted and his cheeks pink as I feast on him.
When his sounds get too frantic, I stop stroking his cock.
I don’t want him to come yet. Instead, I suck at his hole hungrily and his moans are continuous now, broken and desperate.
When I slide two fingers inside him, crooking them to find that sensitive spot, his back arches off the mattress and he cries out.
“You like that?” I taunt, shoving my fingers deeper.
His eyes widen and he pleads, “God, please, I need...”
“What do you need, Elio?” I lift my head just enough to look up the length of his body. He’s a mess. Flushed and trembling and glassy-eyed, his cock leaking a pool on his stomach.
“Asshole,” he gasps. “You know exactly what I need.”
“Come on, Elio.” I suckle his balls, and he moans. “Use your words. What exactly do you need?”
He scowls. “I need your big cock inside me. I need your bite. I need your cum.”
“So greedy.”
“Please,” he whines, reaching down to stroke his dick.
I slap his hand away from his cock and crawl up his body.
I brace myself over his body, smirking down at him.
He reaches for me, pulling me to him, kissing me hungrily.
The desperation in his kiss makes my cock throb painfully.
I’ve decided how I want him the first time.
I need him at my mercy. Vulnerable. Face down, with his perfect ass in the air.
“Turn over,” I tell him. “I’m going to breed you from behind, omega.”
He obeys without hesitation, rolling onto his stomach.
I pull his hips up and he braces on his forearms, presenting himself.
His hole is pink and open from my fingers, drooling slick.
The sight of him like that, on his knees in my bed, slick and open and waiting, trips something in my brain that is pure alpha instinct.
No thought. No strategy. Just the driving, primal need to mount and claim and fill.
I line myself up and push inside him. But he’s fucking tight, so it takes a few thrusts to fully seat inside his heat.
The sound he makes when I first enter him is raw, a guttural moan that vibrates through his whole body and into mine.
He’s impossibly tight, clenching around me, hot and slick and perfect.
Once I’m fully seated, I have to grit my teeth and hold still for a moment because the sensation is so overwhelming that I’m in danger of finishing before I’ve started.
“Fuucckk, you’re big,” he breathes into the pillow. “Jesus.”
“You good?” I ask hoarsely.
“I’m fucking perfect.” He clutches the sheets. “Fuck me hard. I want it hard.”
“My pleasure.” I grip his hips and I start to thrust.
He’s made it clear what he wants, so I pound into him. No reason to treat him gentle if he wants it rough. I like it rough too. He’s never going to forget the night I first took his ass. I want this night burned in his brain for the rest of his life. I want to ruin him for all other alphas.
The memory of Pete’s text flutters unpleasantly through my mind.
It pisses me off to think of anyone but me inside Elio.
The possessiveness I feel for Elio isn’t logical, but it’s there.
I don’t want him wanting anyone but me. The very idea he’d want that other alpha enrages me.
Elio is mine to mark. To breed. I’m his fucking alpha. Not Pete. Not anyone but me.
“Feel me inside you, Elio?” I growl.
“Oh, God,” he whimpers. “You’re so deep.”
“Do you want your alpha’s bite? Do you want your alpha’s seed?”
“Yes,” he whines. “N… need it. Do it. Breed me.”
I drive into him with deep, punishing strokes.
I pull almost all the way out and slam back in, every thrust dragging a sound out of him that’s half moan, half sob.
His fingers twist in the sheets. His back arches, pushing his hips back to meet me, taking me deeper.
The sound of my thick cock plunging into his slick, wet hole is obscene in the most perfect way.
I lean over his back and suck the flesh along the nape of his neck, right where the bonding bite will go, and he shudders beneath me.
He knows what’s coming as I suckle the skin, preparing him for my claiming mark.
He moans and drops his head to the side, inviting my bite.
Lust and excitement spiral through me at his submissiveness, and I open my mouth and bare my teeth.
When I bite down, he screams as my teeth sink into his flesh.
His warm blood swirls over my tongue, unleashing something feral inside of me.
The tangy, metallic taste of my omega sends me into a breeding frenzy.
With a snarl, I thrust deeper and faster, and his body goes rigid as he comes, spurting cream over the comforter below.
The clench of his hole around my cock is so intense, it rips a groan from deep in my chest. I lose control.
My eyes roll up in my head, and with a primal roar, I bury myself in him one last time.
I come so hard my vision splinters, spilling deep and hot inside him in long, pulsing jets.
I keep thrusting, pumping my release deeper into his quaking body.
I have one instinctive goal, and that’s to breed my omega.
Within seconds, my knot begins to swell.
I’ve never knotted an omega. I never wanted to.
Knotting means breeding, and I’ve never wanted to breed an omega until now.
The sensation is staggering, a pressure at the base of my cock that builds rapidly, stretching Elio’s hole.
The intensity of the swelling catches even me off guard.
“Oh, God.” Elio’s voice is hoarse. Panicked as he feels the stretch of the knot. “I’ve never...”
“It’s okay,” I rumble, still dazed from my orgasm.
I feel almost drugged from the taste of my omega’s blood.
But I need to fight through it because my omega needs me to guide him through his first time being knotted.
“Breathe. Just breathe,” I whisper. “Your body can take it. Let it happen, Elio. Don’t fight it. ”
He whimpers. It’s a sound so vulnerable and raw that my chest aches. As my knot stretches him open, he’s shaking. His hands are white-knuckled in the sheets as my knot expands. “Marcello,” he whines, pain and panic mingling in his voice. “It’s too much.”
“Shhh, you can do it.” I caress his side, pressing tender kisses to his shoulder. “I’m here with you.” I tap into a gentleness I didn’t know I had. The lust is softening, morphing into something else. Something gentle and selfless. “You’re okay. It’ll be over soon.”
He gives a half sob, but he quiets, and I feel a sense of pride that he listened.
When the knot suddenly locks into place, sealing my seed inside his womb, it’s a sensation so intense it’s hard to breathe.
He comes again, giving a shocked gasp as his body climaxes without warning.
I press my forehead against his shoulder and give a low, guttural groan.
His orgasm seems to go on forever, his body quietly convulsing, his hole milking my dick.
The sensation is erotic and overwhelming. Our pleasure is completely intertwined.
Elio trembles beneath me, his breathing ragged, small aftershocks rippling through his body.
We’re locked together now, my cock buried inside him, and neither of us can move.
I roll us carefully onto our sides so my weight isn’t crushing him, keeping him tight against my chest, my arm around his waist. His little moans make my heart hurt weirdly.
I want to help him, but we’re both trapped in this primal experience.
I’m disturbed by how fiercely protective I feel. Elio was supposed to be the uncomplicated choice. A means to an end. An omega who fit the terms of the contract without demanding anything real from me. And yet this feels more intimate than anything I ever had with Sandro.
I tell myself it’s the bite.
It has to be. It’s doing weird things to my brain.
After all, a blood bond between alpha and omega is not a small thing, even when the marriage behind it is fake.
His blood is still on my tongue. I’m still locked inside him.
It’s natural to feel these things because instinct is roaring through me, ancient and unreasonable.
But these protective, needy emotions will pass once the flush of our mating has faded.
It doesn’t have to mean more than what it is: A physical response to claiming and breeding my omega.
I won’t let it mean more.