Page 8 of Fighting the Alpha

“I’m not backing out now, Bastien,” I grit out, looking back with a face of steely determination. “You said it yourself, I’m a man of my word. And I’m not giving you something else to throw back in my face next time we face each other.”

Levi cackles, looking delighted. “Oh, so there will be a next time? You are not avoiding me anymore like a little baby?”

I bristle. “Next time you’ll be the one on your fucking knees—”

“You should be so lucky! You would not know what to do with me—”

“Can you shut the fuck up and fuck me?” I growl. “Jesus Christ.”

He laughs in disbelief, flashing his teeth gleefully. “Seeing as you asked so nicely.”

He grabs his discarded shorts off the floor, pulling a small bottle from the pocket and popping the cap.

“You were so confident I’d give in that you broughtlube?” I say, affronted.

He gives me an incredulous look. “You would have preferred me not to? Are you crazy?”

I flush, because obviously he’s right, but I’m still offended by the audacity of it. Luckily, he doesn’t wait for a response from me before drizzling a generous amount of the cool liquid over my hole and pushing a finger up to the knuckle in one smooth motion, my initial gasp turning into a groan.

“That shut you up,” he murmurs, his free hand gripping my waist as he starts to move his finger.

“I—you—” I stutter, overwhelmed by the strange, slick drag of him against my insides. “Fuck.”

He chuckles darkly. “Good boy. Just take it.”

He pushes another finger in alongside the first, the stretch forcing a helpless sound from the back of my throat. I can feel my hard-wired alpha instincts screaming at me to fight back against the invasion, but they’re distant, and they only get further away with every hot press of his fingers.

My hands clutch the back of the sofa when he adds a third finger, my scent losing the final remnants of the bitter, combative edge it was holding on to and turning thick and syrupy. Levi shifts his hand, and my hips twitch violently, all the air escaping my lungs as a sweet, electric ache blooms where he brushes against my prostate.

“Look at how you open up for me so well,” Levi pants, and I’m relieved that his composure finally seems to be fracturing. His cheeks have darkened, the smugness in his tone replaced by a rare, raw note. He withdraws his hand, leaving me cold and empty. “Enough waiting. Look at me, Dylan. I want to see your eyes.”

That feels like a step beyond the wager, but fuck it. I’m in deep enough already, and maybe there’s a part of me that wants to see the look on his face when he sinks into me for the first time, too.

I twist my neck, my vision hazy, the thump of my pulse loud in my ears. Levi’s eyes lock onto mine as he slicks himself up and positions himself at my entrance, and the throbbing heat of him pressing against me is a final, sobering reminder that this is actually happening. We’re actually fucking doing this.

The ridiculousness of it nearly makes me laugh out loud, but then Levi is driving forward, and I’m stretching around him, and I can barely breathe.

“Oh.” The word falls out of me on a strained gasp, the intensity of him filling me taking me completely by surprise. It’s so much. Sofull. And when I close my eyes, focusing on the weight of him behind me and forcing my rigid muscles to soften, even alongside the burn, it’sso fucking good.

When I flutter my eyes back open, Levi is looking at me with a blissed out look on his face that makes my alpha preen, and he’s buried all the way to the hilt.

His eyes study mine for a long moment, but then he grins at whatever he sees there, one of those slow, infuriating smiles. And then he starts to move.

We groan in unison as he pulls back out before driving deep again, setting a slow, steady rhythm that rocks me forward against the leather, the sound of our skin slapping together obscenely filling the small space.

He picks up his pace, crushing my body forward against the sofa so his front is almost pressed against my back, angling his hips just right so the thick head of his cock presses against that spot inside me relentlessly, forcing desperate, ragged sounds out of me.

And Jesus Christ, I don’t want to fight back. I don’t want anything but the weight of him against my back and the overwhelming release of submitting to him like this.

“It feels good?” he pants against my ear, his lips dangerously close to my scent gland, but my alpha is completely okay with it. Alarmingly at-ease with his closeness.

I nod frantically, my head dropping forward as he bottoms out with every devastating jab of his hips. “Yeah,” I stutter, forgetting everything I ever thought about holding on to my pride. “So good.”

Then his hands are on my shoulders, holding me fast and pulling us together, my vision blurring as pleasure gathers in the pit of my stomach, building to a fever pitch embarrassingly fast.

Levi’s fingers dig harder into my shoulders, anchors keeping me pinned right where he wants me as the pace shifts to something frantic, his rhythm faltering as he edges towards his peak.

“Dylan,” he gasps against the side of my neck, his hot breath fanning over my burning skin. “Putain, you are destroying me. Stay right there. Don’t move.”