"Me too." His hands gripped my hips, angling them up, changing the angle so every thrust dragged his cock across my front wall and his pelvis ground against my clit. His face was flushed dark, his ribs expanding in ragged gulps, sweat dripping from his temple onto my collarbone. "Want you to come when I knot you. Want to feel you break apart around me."
"Yes—god, yes—" I couldn't manage more than that, couldn't find words past the wave cresting inside me.
The knot pushed past my entrance one final time—a stretch so intense it stole my scream, the line between pleasure and pain dissolving entirely. He was locked inside me, the knot swelling still, pressing against me from every direction, so full I could feel my own pulse throbbing where we were joined. The orgasm hit us both like a collision—my body clamping down around him in rhythmic, milking pulses while his release flooded me in hot, thick waves, his whole body going rigid above me, every muscle locked and shaking.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. Just breathed. His forehead was pressed to mine, his chest heaving, his arms trembling where they held him above me. I could feel every twitch and throb of him inside me, the knot keeping us sealed together, his release still pulsing in slow, heavy spurts.
When I could form words again—barely, through the haze of aftershocks still rippling through me—I looked up at him. His gray eyes were glazed, his lips parted, his expression wrecked in a way I'd never seen. Utterly destroyed. And something about seeing this massive, controlled man completely undone by me made the corner of my mouth curl.
"That all you got?" I rasped, my voice hoarse and ruined but the sass unmistakable. I dragged one finger down the center of his chest, tracing the damp line of hair. "I expected more from my Head Alpha."
His eyes snapped into focus. The glazed, overwhelmed softness vanished, replaced by something darker—something hot and sharp and dangerously focused. His jaw tightened. A muscle jumped beneath the scruff on his cheek.
"Is that right," His voice had dropped to something low and lethal, a growl that vibrated through his chest into mine where we were still pressed together. His hand came up and gripped my jaw—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough that I couldn't look away. His thumb pressed against my lower lip, pulling it down slightly, his eyes tracking the movement. "You think I'm done with you?"
My pulse spiked, a fresh wave of arousal flooding through me despite the orgasm I'd just had. The knot shifted inside me when my body clenched, and the sensation—full, stretched, oversensitive nerves lighting up—made me gasp.
"I think you might be," I challenged, even as my voice wavered, even as my body clenched involuntarily around his knot and betrayed me. I traced a finger along his collarbone, feigning a casual confidence I absolutely did not feel. "Old man."
Something flashed across his face—primal, predatory, the Alpha rising to the surface in a way I'd only glimpsed during my heat. He smiled. It wasn't a kind smile. It was the smile of a man who'd just been handed a mission.
"Sweetheart," he said, his voice calm and devastatingly controlled even as his hips rocked forward—a shallow, grinding thrust that moved the knot inside me and made me cry out. "I haven't even started."
He rocked again, and the knot dragged against my front wall, the swollen base pressing and rolling against nerve endingsthat were screaming with overstimulation. The sensation was blinding—too much, too intense, pleasure and pain twisted together so tightly I couldn't separate them. My body was still clenching in aftershocks from the last orgasm, and every squeeze around his knot sent shockwaves through both of us.
"Harper—" I gasped, my hands flying to his shoulders, nails biting in hard enough to draw blood. "Oh god, that's—the knot—I can feel it—" My head thrashed against the blanket, my spine arching, my body caught between pulling away and pushing closer.
"I know." He rolled his hips in a slow, devastating circle, and the knot shifted inside me, pressing against my g-spot with a pressure that made my vision white out at the edges. "I can feel you clenching around me every time I move. Can feel how sensitive you are. How swollen." Another grind, harder this time, and I sobbed, my back arching off the blanket. "Still think I'm done?"
"Fuck you," I whimpered, my head falling back, my fingers scrabbling at his shoulders for purchase. My hips were moving on their own, rolling to meet his, chasing the brutal pressure of his knot against that spot even though every movement made the stretched rim of my entrance burn with a pain that was somehow addictive—the knot tugging at me from the inside, too swollen to slip free, pulling at sensitive flesh with every thrust.
"That's the idea." His teeth found the tendon in my neck and scraped, his breath hot against my skin. His hips kept that devastating rhythm—slow, grinding circles that moved the knot inside me like a fist, pressing and rolling and rubbing. "Going to make you come until you can't remember your own name. Until the only word left in that smart mouth is mine."
"Big talk from a man who—ah—" My sass cut off into a strangled cry as he ground forward hard, the knot pressing against my cervix with a pressure that shot stars across myvision. My fingers clawed at his back, leaving welts, my thighs locking around his waist.
The orgasm crashed over me without warning—sharp and savage, my body clamping down on his knot so hard we both shouted, the pressure of the squeeze making the knot feel even bigger inside me, every pulse of my body milking him, drawing another thick rush of his release. My back arched off the blanket, my mouth open in a silent scream, my toes curling so hard they cramped.
He worked me through it with those relentless grinding thrusts, his jaw set, his eyes burning into mine, watching every expression cross my face with a focus that bordered on obsessive.
"That's two on my knot," he said, his voice rough with strain, sweat rolling down his neck. "We're not done."
"I can't—there's no way I can—" My voice was wrecked, shredded, my whole body shaking beneath him, my hands pressed flat against his chest like I couldn't decide whether to push him away or pull him closer.
"You can." He shifted then—wrapping one arm around my waist, bracing the other against the floor—and sat up, pulling me with him. The change in position dragged the knot through me at a new angle and I screamed, my arms wrapping around his neck, my face buried against his shoulder. He settled back against the wall, me straddling his lap, his knot buried impossibly deep in the new position.
"Oh my god." My voice came out wrecked, barely recognizable, my forehead pressed against his shoulder, my fingers digging into the muscle of his upper arms. The angle was different now—gravity pushing me down onto him, the knot pressing deeper than it had before, seated against my cervix with a constant, unyielding pressure that made my whole body vibrate. Every micro-movement—every breath, every twitch—shifted him inside me and sent sparks cascading through my pelvis. "It's—you're so much deeper like this—" I whimpered the words into his neck, my teeth grazing the tendon, my breath coming in short, stuttering gasps.
"I know." His hands gripped my hips, guiding me, rocking me on his knot. The movement was small—it had to be, locked together as we were—but the sensation was enormous. The knot tugged at my entrance with every rock of my hips, the swollen base pulling against my stretched rim in a way that made me whimper—a raw, aching burn that somehow fed directly into the pleasure coiling in my belly. "Ride it. Use me. Take what you need."
I braced my hands on his shoulders and rocked. The first movement punched a moan out of me—the knot shifting, rolling against my front wall from a new angle, the thick head of his cock pressing against my cervix in a way that was almost unbearable in its intensity. I did it again, harder, and his head fell back against the wall with a groan that sounded ripped from his chest, the tendons in his neck straining, his fingers digging bruises into my hips.
"Fuck—Artemis—" His jaw was clenched, his eyes wild, his composure finally cracking. The knot pulsed inside me, another surge of his release flooding my already-stuffed body, and I felt it—hot and wet and too much, some of it squeezing out around the seal of the knot, dripping down my thighs. "The way you feel right now—so tight—can barely?—"
I rode him harder, grinding down, taking the knot as deep as it would go, and the pain-pleasure of it was indescribable—the burn of the stretch, the ache of the pressure, the lightning-bolt hits against my g-spot every time I rocked forward. My clit ground against his pelvis with every movement, swollen and throbbing, each brush of contact making my body jerk.
"Come on," he growled against my throat, one hand sliding between us, his thumb finding my clit and pressing in firm, relentless circles. His other hand gripped the back of my neck, holding me close, his lips against my ear. "Give it to me. I want to feel you break. Want to feel that smart mouth go quiet."
"I—I can't—it's too much—" I was shaking, my thighs burning, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes, my whole body wound so tight I thought I might shatter into pieces. The pleasure was terrifying in its intensity—a wave building so high I couldn't see the top of it.
