Page 122 of The Florist and Her Alphas

I use my thumb to spread her open.

Her asshole is small. Tight. Soft pink, slightly puckered, untouched tonight except for Ezra’s finger. It glistens with her slick, and when my thumb circles the outer ring, she gasps.

“So pretty back here,” I murmur. My voice comes out rougher than I want it to. “This is mine. You understand? I own this ass.”

I keep circling. Slow. Patient. Spreading her own wetness across the tight ring of muscle in slow, deliberate motions. Her slick is warm on my thumb. Slippery. She gasps again, softer this time, and her hips shift minutely against the pillow.

I bring the tip of my middle finger to her back entrance. Press gently.

She moans. Out loud. It makes my cock hard as fuck. I can’t go crazy on her ass yet.

She’s well-loosened. I’ve knotted her ass four times this week already, including last night in the shower. Her body knows me. Her ass knows me.

I lean down. Put my mouth against the curve of her left cheek. And I bite her.

Not hard.

A small, sharp bite, my teeth breaking skin just enough to mark. The connection blooms instantly, like warm honey, and she lets out a louder moan, her body trembling beneath me, her asshole clenching frantically for a knot.

“You okay, baby?”

“Yes… I think so,” she whimpers as I lick the wound to soothe her. It heals quickly as I breathe in her scent, pressing my nose against her tiny asshole.

I breathe her in, licking her asshole, watching as she stretches underneath my tongue. She loves it when I lick her here, judging from the way she slicks so easily from her asshole. Long, clear streams of slick begin to stream from her asshole. I slip a finger deep into her ass.

“Hmm, your asshole is ready to be knotted. Is that right, baby?”

“I need your knot,” she moans, sounding embarrassed. Her voice is muffled against Ezra’s chest.

“Are you embarrassed that I’m playing with your asshole like this?” I growl, pushing my finger in deeper. I work her open with one finger in slow, patient circles. The tight ring of muscle yields, taking me, her slick making everything wet and easy. I pull out. Add a second finger.

She pants against the pillow now.

“Wow, she’s really enjoying Cole playing with her butt,” mutters August in wonder as he watches me work her open.

Her hips are pushing back against my hand, seeking more, and I use my free hand to gather more of the slick that’s still trickling down from her asshole. Spread it around her hole. Work my two fingers together inside her, scissoring gently, stretching the ring open inch by inch.

She takes it. Moaning. Trembling.

I add a third finger. She gasps — a sharp, high sound — but her body opens. Takes me. I work her open until my three fingers slide in and out with almost no resistance, her asshole wet and loose and ready.

“You’re going to take my cock,” I tell her straightforwardly. I’ve been hard for an hour. Since she walked down that aisle in white silk with her belly round and her eyes bright.

I pull my fingers out. A thin strand of slick follows, catching the light.

I use both hands to spread her ass cheeks wide. Line myself up at her tight opening from behind, lying on my side from behind her.

Her hole is glistening. Open. Ready for me. Pink and wet and perfect.

I push inside slowly.

The head of my cock breaches the ring of her ass, and she cries out softly into the pillow. A broken, gasping sound that goes straight to my dick. I have to grip my own thigh hard with one hand to keep from coming on the spot. She is so tight. So hot. Her body clenches around the head of my cock like a fist.

I push deeper. Inch by inch. Watching her body take me.

Her asshole stretches around my shaft, pink and wet, and the sight of my cock disappearing into her is almost enough to finish me right there.

I sink in to the hilt. Hold myself there. My balls press against the back of her thigh. Her body is trembling around me, her inner walls pulsing in slow rhythmic clenches.