The first roll of my hips made us both cry out—the drag of him inside me was exquisite, the length of him sliding against every sensitive spot, the angle letting me grind my clit against his pelvis on every downstroke. I braced my hands on his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath my palms, feeling his heart pound nearly as fast as mine, feeling the coarse hair that covered his pecs scrape against my sensitized palms.
"That's it," Remy groaned, his hands guiding my hips, helping me find the rhythm. His head pressed back into the pillows, his throat working as he swallowed hard, the tendons standing out in sharp relief, sweat beading on his golden skin. "That's my girl. Fuck yourself on my cock. Use me."
I rode him hard, hips rolling and snapping, chasing the pleasure that coiled tighter with every stroke. The position let me control everything—the depth, the angle, the pace—and I took full advantage, adjusting until every thrust hit that spot on my front wall that made lightning shoot up my spine. I ground down harder, faster, feeling the pressure build in my belly, feeling the pleasure spiral higher and higher.
His hands roamed as I rode him—up my thighs, over my hips, across my stomach, up to cup my bouncing breasts. His thumbs found my nipples, rolling and pinching in a rhythm that matched my movements, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through my nerve endings to join the fire building in my core.
"Look at you," Remy breathed, his eyes roaming over my body—my bouncing breasts, my flushed skin, my face twistedwith pleasure. His expression was soft with awe, his amber eyes glowing like embers in the dim light of the nest. "Most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Could watch you like this forever. Could die happy with this view."
Despite the heat, despite the desperate need consuming me, I laughed—a breathless, incredulous sound. "You're ridiculous," I gasped between moans. "Even now—you're—ah!—ridiculous."
His grin widened, delighted, his whole face lighting up even through the strain of holding back, that damned dimple cutting deep into his cheek. "Made you laugh, chere. That's all I ever want." Then his hips snapped up to meet my downstroke, driving impossibly deeper, and the laugh turned into a scream.
He started thrusting up into me in earnest now, matching my rhythm, and the combined motion was devastating. Every stroke was deeper, harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with our moans and gasps. Slick dripped down where we joined, coating his balls, soaking into the blankets beneath us, making obscene wet sounds that filled the nest.
"Harder," I begged, my nails raking down his chest, leaving red lines in their wake. "Remy, please—harder?—"
He growled—actually growled, a sound I'd never heard from the charming, playful Alpha, rumbling up from deep in his chest—and his hands clamped down on my hips with bruising force. Then he planted his feet on the mattress and started fucking up into me with a ferocity that took my breath away. The angle changed, his cock hitting even deeper, the head battering against my cervix with every thrust. I couldn't keep up with my own movements anymore—all I could do was hold on as he used his grip on my hips to move me how he wanted, bouncing me on his cock like I weighed nothing.
"That's it," he grunted, his amber eyes fixed on my face, watching every flutter of my lashes, every parting of my lips, drinking in every sound I made. His face was flushed, sweatdripping down his temples, his muscles straining with every thrust. "Take it. Take all of it. Fuck, you feel so good—so tight and wet and perfect?—"
I could feel my orgasm building—a pressure low in my belly that grew with every thrust, every grind of my clit against his pelvis. My thighs trembled, my arms shaking where they braced against his chest, my whole body strung tight as a wire about to snap.
"Close," I sobbed, the pleasure cresting toward something huge. "Remy…Alpha…I'm—I can't?—"
"I know," he said, his voice strained to breaking, his hand sliding down between us. His fingers found my clit with practiced ease, rubbing tight circles that made my rhythm falter completely. His amber eyes were locked on my face, watching every expression, his own face twisted with the effort of holding back his own release. "Let go. Come for me, chere. Want to feel you squeeze my cock."
The orgasm hit like a freight train—my whole body clenching, my vision whiting out, a scream tearing from my throat that might have been his name. I could feel myself spasming around him, inner walls gripping and releasing in rhythmic pulses, slick flooding where we joined in a hot rush that I could feel dripping down onto his thighs.
Remy groaned beneath me, his hips stuttering, his hands flying to grip my waist with bruising force, his head thrown back and the tendons in his neck standing out in sharp relief. "Fuck, that's—I'm gonna?—"
Then I felt it. His knot starting to swell.
The pressure at my entrance changed—what had been sliding in and out smoothly now caught on every outstroke, a growing bulge that stretched my rim wider with each passing second. I gasped at the sensation, my oversensitive body clenching even tighter around him.
"Need to flip you," he gasped, already moving, his hands gripping my hips as he rolled us without separating. Suddenly I was on my back and he was above me, his cock still buried deep, his knot pressing insistently against my entrance. His amber eyes were wild now, all playfulness gone, replaced by pure Alpha need, his pupils blown so wide they nearly swallowed the gold. "Need the angle—need to lock you properly?—"
He thrust hard, and the growing knot caught on my rim. I cried out at the stretch—that familiar pressure, that burn that blurred into pleasure. The swelling girth forced my entrance to spread wider than it wanted to go, the sensation right on the edge of too much.
"You can take it," he groaned, pulling back and thrusting again, forcing the knot a little deeper. Sweat dripped from his brow onto my chest, his arms trembling where they braced on either side of my head. "I know you can. You're so wet, so ready for me—just let me in, chere?—"
Another thrust, and I felt my body straining to accommodate him. My inner walls fluttered around the intrusion, the stretch burning, my slick flooding to ease the way. He was so big now—the knot swelling larger with every passing second—and each thrust pushed it harder against my entrance.
"Remy—" I gasped, my hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging in. "It's—I can't?—"
"You can," he said fiercely, and kissed me—hard and desperate, swallowing my whimpers, his tongue sliding against mine. His hips never stopped moving, pressing forward, demanding entry. "You can take it. Take my knot, chere. Let me fill you up. Let me—fuck?—"
One more brutal thrust and the knot popped past my rim, locking inside me with a stretch that made me scream into his mouth. I felt my entrance close behind it, trapping him inside, and then the knot swelled to its full size—impossiblybig, stretching me wide, sealing us together so completely that I couldn't tell where he ended and I began.
Then he was coming—hot pulses flooding my core, painting my insides with thick ropes of his release. I could feel every jet, every throb of his cock as he emptied himself inside me, the heat of his seed spreading through my belly. His knot pulsed against my inner walls, each pulse pushing more of his release deeper, and my body responded by clenching around him, milking him for every drop.
The sensation triggered another orgasm—smaller than the others but no less intense—my walls spasming around his knot as pleasure crashed through me again. We shook together, clinging to each other, his face buried in my neck and his breath coming in ragged sobs that sounded like my name.
"Je t'aime," he whispered against my throat, the French slipping out unchecked, his voice cracked and broken, barely audible. "Je t'aime, je t'aime, mon coeur?—"
I didn't know if he meant for me to hear it. But I stored the words away, precious and fragile, for later—when the heat broke and I could think again.His knot pulsed inside me, keeping us locked together, and I drifted in the warm haze of satisfaction as his weight settled over me, grounding me, anchoring me to the present moment.
The lucid moments came between waves—brief windows of clarity where the fire banked low enough for thought.In one of them, I found myself propped against Harper's chest while Silas held a water bottle to my lips, his scarred fingers gentle as he tilted it to help me drink.
