12. Dante
DANTE
D ante Rossi trembles on Marco's lap in the dim office, his pregnant belly heavy, tight, and distended with the weight of the Alpha's child.
Thick, transparent slick leaks steadily from his swollen hole, bubbling around Marco's thick cock, which remains buried completely to the hilt inside him.
The Alpha's knot stays half-swollen, intentionally lodged right at the sensitive ring of Dante's entrance, locking them together in a torturous, unyielding stretch that keeps Dante’s pelvic bones aching.
Dante's wrists ache fiercely from the cold metal handcuffs binding him tightly to the heavy leather arms of the desk chair.
His bare legs are draped uselessly over Marco's thick, suited thighs.
His own cock throbs untouched, leaking a steady stream of clear pre-cum, completely denied a release for agonizing hours.
Thoughts race through Dante's fractured, heat-addled mind, entirely overwhelmed by the suffocating aura of the room. Fuck, I need to come. Please, Alpha, let me come. I’m going to break .
Marco sits stone-faced and imposing at the head of the long boardroom table, calmly discussing territory shipments, drug routes, and targeted hits with three of his top made men.
His deep voice stays cold, steady, and commanding, showing absolutely no sign of the carnal display hidden beneath the tabletop.
One of Marco's large, calloused hands rests flat against Dante's swollen belly, rubbing slow, possessive circles that force the omega's internal heat to flare hotter. His other hand holds a crystal glass of amber whiskey, occasionally bringing it to his lips.
Dante's naked body stays hidden from the waist up by the high mahogany table, but the risk of public exposure burns hot and terrifying in his chest. Any sudden movement, any loud whimper, could expose his absolute degradation to the cold eyes of the mafia soldiers.
The meeting drags on mercilessly. Marco's cock twitches inside Dante every few minutes, the thick veins grinding directly against his swollen prostate with deliberate, agonizing pressure.
Dante bites his lower lip until it bleeds, tasting iron, desperate to keep from crying out. The brutal edging had started long before the men arrived.
Marco had pinned him down and fingered his tight core for over an hour, bringing him to the very brink of a screaming climax six times, only to abruptly pull out and slap his throbbing cock hard when Dante begged for release.
Now, the severe denial eats him alive, turning his thoughts into a chaotic mess of pure, carnal need.
Dante's highly sensitive nipples leak white milk onto his chest, the fluid dripping down the slope of his pregnant belly. His slick-drenched hole clenches desperately, pulsing around the Alpha's massive girth in an involuntary rhythm.
The continuous stretch burns so intensely it hurts, but the pain only heightens his craving.
Marco's dominant alpha pheromones flood the small office space, thick with the scent of dark leather, tobacco, and pure possession, triggering relentless waves of heat inside Dante's carrying body.
One of the made men across the table speaks about a recent border dispute with a rival crew. Marco nods slowly, considering the report, then casually thrusts his hips upward beneath the desk.
The thick knot pushes deeper into Dante’s raw core. Dante gasps softly, his eyes rolling back as a sharp spike of pleasure shoots straight to his brain. His leaking dick jerks violently, spilling more fluid across his distended stomach.
"Quiet, omega," Marco murmurs in a low, gravelly rumble, the tone intended only for Dante’s ears as he shifts slightly in the chair.
Under the cover of the shadows, Marco’s hand slides down Dante’s wet belly and pinches the hypersensitive head of the omega's cock with sudden force. Pain flares hot and sharp, cutting through the pleasure.
Dante's eyes water, his chest heaving as he chokes back a sob. There is no release permitted. Just another brutal edge meant to keep him broken and fully submissive.
Hours pass like this in the locked room.
Marco controls every single twitch of Dante’s lower body.
Whenever Dante gets too close to fracturing, whenever his internal walls begin to squeeze with the rhythm of an impending orgasm, Marco ruthlessly squeezes the base of the omega's shaft or slaps his swollen, aching balls lightly under the table.
The men continue to talk about deals, money, and blood.
Dante breaks a little more with each passing minute, silent tears slipping down his flushed cheeks and staining the Alpha's expensive suit pants. His mind fogs entirely, stripped of his usual bratty defiance, reduced to a desperate, needy state.
I’m yours. I'm your slut. Just let me come on your knot .
By the time the meeting finally concludes, Dante is shaking uncontrollably, his muscles completely exhausted from the prolonged restraint. The capos gather their folders and leave the room without a single glance under the wide table, completely unaware of the ruined omega riding their Don's lap.
The moment the heavy door shuts, Marco reaches over and hits the electronic lock with a sharp, definitive click.
"Now you ride it, my perfect pregnant whore," Marco growls, his voice dark and dripping with a savage hunger.
He reaches down and unlocks one side of the cuffs from the chair arm, but he keeps Dante's wrists bound together in front of his chest, the chain rattling loudly.
The restrictive position forces Dante to lean completely forward, his heavy, pregnant belly pressing flat against Marco's solid, tattooed abs.
Dante forces himself up onto his shaky, unaligned thighs, his knees gripping the sides of Marco’s hips. The massive knot at the base of Marco's shaft tugs violently at his outer rim, fully inflated now and hot as iron.
Raw pain and twisted pleasure mix viciously in Dante's gut as he slowly sinks back down, impaling himself fully.
The massive stretch rips a broken, high-pitched moan from his throat.
Marco's cock fills his channel completely, the swollen bulb grinding hard against every raw, overstimulated spot inside his womb.
"Ride it," Marco orders, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. His large hands grip Dante's hips with bruising force, his fingers digging deep enough into the pale, soft skin to leave dark marks.
Dante begins to move, his body operating on pure instinct. It is slow and uncoordinated at first, then grows faster as the desperation takes over completely. The handcuffs rattle frantically against each other with every bounce.
His pregnant belly sways and jiggles with each hard drop onto the thick shaft. Milk leaks from his hardened nipples in steady, continuous drips, splashing onto Marco's thighs. He fucks himself down onto the massive knot, his wet inner walls clenching like a vice around the invasion.
Every downward thrust forces the swollen bulb deeper, stretching his pink flesh wider than he should ever be able to take.
The sheer volume of sensation completely overwhelms his consciousness. The burning ache in his hole. The targeted pressure on his prostate. The heavy, stretching fullness in his lower stomach from the weight of the pregnancy mixed with the raw friction of Marco's cock.
Dante sobs openly now, broken, needy, and entirely ruined by the Alpha's dominance.
Marco watches him through dark, obsessive eyes, his pupils completely blown out with territorial lust. "Look at you. My perfect pregnant slut. Only good for warming my cock, taking my spankings, and carrying my seed."
He raises his hand and slaps Dante's ass hard, the loud sound echoing in the office. He slaps him again, harder this time, leaving bright red marks blooming across the pale, sweat-slicked flesh.
Dante's pace turns completely frantic, his hips pumping up and down in a crazed rhythm as he chases the elusive orgasm Marco denied him for hours under the table. The knot catches on his internal ridges, swelling even more, locking his body fully flush against the Alpha's pelvis.
Dante's vision begins to blur, gray spots appearing at the edges of his eyes. His untouched cock slaps wetly against his lower belly with every frantic movement, dripping fluids.
"Come for me," Marco finally commands, his voice rough and deep. He reaches between their bodies, his large fingers wrapping around Dante's throbbing shaft, stroking the length once, then twice with a heavy, sliding motion.
The forced orgasm hits Dante's body like pure physical violence. Dante screams, his head flying back as his entire torso seizes in a powerful cramp.
Thick, white ropes of cum shoot across his own pregnant belly and chest, his body shaking violently with the release. His internal walls spasm wildly, clamping down in tight, rhythmic contractions around the locked knot, milking the thick shaft.
Marco lets out a deep, guttural groan and begins to flood the omega's womb with a fresh, massive wave of hot seed, pumping his hips deep to pack the load inside.
But Marco does not stop moving. He keeps Dante tightly impaled on the swollen tie, his hips continuing to grind upward into the oversensitive, pulsing mess of Dante’s core.
The intense friction against his freshly spent prostate triggers another powerful orgasm almost immediately, sharp, painful, and entirely unbidden.
Dante breaks harder, tears streaming down his face as his body jerks helplessly against the handcuffs, his mind fracturing under the sensory overload.
"Again," Marco demands, his dominant pheromones forcing compliance. His large hand works Dante's cock relentlessly, ignoring the omega's weak whines, while his pelvis thrusts short and brutal against the locked knot tie.
The third forced orgasm crashes over Dante like a wave, his core contracting so violently it feels like it will tear. He wails into the empty office, his vision spotting completely black as his body goes entirely limp.
A massive mixture of slick and hot cum gushes around the edges of the knot, dripping down Marco's balls and pooling on the leather chair beneath them. His pregnant body shakes with violent tremors, completely owned, ruined, and deeply addicted to the Alpha's carnal brutality.
Marco finally slows his movements, keeping his length buried to the absolute hilt inside the wet, leaking channel. He reaches up and pulls Dante forward by the chain of the handcuffs, capturing his mouth in a deep, wet, and filthy kiss.
Their tongues tangle, tasting of salt and sweat. Marco's hands slide down, his large palms stroking the firm, swollen belly with a sudden, protective tenderness, even as his massive cock continues to pulse and leak deep inside Dante’s core.
Dante slumps completely against the Alpha's chest, wrecked, hollowed out, and floating in the heavy afterglow. His hole throbs painfully around the thick knot, holding him fast.
Every ragged breath he takes sends small aftershocks of pleasure through his exhausted muscles. Marco's heavy alpha scent wraps around him like heavy iron chains, cementing his absolute surrender.