Filed To Story: Alpha's Regret: His Wrongful Rejection
“You’ve done this before.” Of course he has. Brynn, Teagan, Lowry—any female nob would consider it an honor. My stomach sours, and my wolf’s black lips pull back from her sharp teeth.
He steps closer, his hand still sliding up and down the hard, veined shaft in its bed of course black hair. There’s a milky white drop clinging to the slit in the tip. I lick my lips.
His voice, when he speaks, is as deep and guttural as rocks tumbling together. “I haven’t, but I know what to do.”
My wolf cocks her head. I rise higher on my knees. “You haven’t ever done it?”
He gives an abrupt shake of his head, his teeth clenched so tight that under his jawbone, his neck hollows.
My belly swoops. He hasn’t done it either. Good. There isn’t a bad taste in my mouth now that I’m ignoring.
I’m not afraid anymore, and if that makes no sense, well, nothing does. I reach out a hand.
He moves to take it quickly, coming to kneel with me in my nest. He’s so big, he crowds me to the back. He glances around. “You did a good job.”
My wolf and I preen. We did. It’s an excellent nest.
“There’s something wrong with my head,” I confide to him in a whisper as I pet his hard chest and his bulging arms. He feels nice. Solid and warm. “I’m not thinking straight.”
“I am. I’m good. Everything will be okay. I’m in control.” He takes a lock of my hair and lets it fall through his fingers. “Your hair is soft.”
I smile, capturing the hand and placing it on my breast. That’s where I want his touch. He growls and squeezes gently. I moan. He tugs and kneads, experimenting, and I press into his hand and whimper.
“Does that feel good?” he asks.
I hum a happy sound. “Yeah.”
“Yes,
Cadoc.” It’s a command.
“Yes, Cadoc.” I don’t mind humoring him. His hands are rough and his touch is hungry, ranging all over my body—my ass, the back of my thighs, my hips, exploring as if he owns every inch. It feels so good, stoking a fire inside me, a need that roars and crackles louder and louder.
“You’re so soft, Rosie,” he murmurs against my skin. “You’re so beautiful.”
I am. I can hear it in his voice, I can see it in his eyes where the gray has gone molten silver, not soulless now, oh, no. There’s a riot in there. A conflagration.
“Do you like when I touch you, Rosie?”
“Yes.”
“Yes,
Cadoc.” He feigns irritation.
I giggle, and he silences me with a kiss, sweet and tentative, then demanding, his tongue twining with mine, our breath mingling. His musky scent mixes with the blankets and quilts, and even though in the back of my mind, I know the Airstream is dirty and old and cold, that’s not how things really are. My nest is cozy and safe. I’m protected.
My mate won’t hurt me. He’ll make me feel good, and I want that more than anything. The need is riding me, harder and harder. I push him back so I have room to turn and settle on my hands and knees. I arch my back, looking for him over my shoulder.
He’s taut as a bow, carved out of stone. My mate, the statue. I flash him a kind smile. In this moment, I approve of him entirely.
“Now,” I tell him.
His lungs catch. He walks forward on his knees, frowning, brows speared down. I raise my hips and shove my fingers between my legs, smearing the slick and rubbing the hard nub that spurs my need higher.
Everything feels good. His eyes on me. His scent in my lungs. The heat radiating from his body.
He curves over me, his cock sliding between my folds, and I edge my stance wider, cocking my hips higher, opening up for him. He prods my pulsing channel, and I don’t have time to register anything besides the hardness and impossible width before his cocks slips backward. I clench my bottom to stop him from poking me there.
“My bad,” he mutters under his breath.
He realigns himself, takes the base of his cock in hand, and notches himself back into the place where I crave him. I’m getting a crick in my neck, and I can’t quite see, but I can’t stop trying. I want to watch. He’s majestic. Strong. He’s beautiful, too.
He’s uncertain and intent, and so careful with me.
There’s something I’m forgetting, but it’s not important now. He braces himself, folding over me, his chest pressed to my back, so rigid that he trembles.
“It’s going to be all right. I’ll make it feel good, I promise.” His warm breath tickles my neck, and he presses forward.
There’s a twinge, and then a sharp, stabbing pain. I suck in a breath, my thighs automatically clenching shut, but he’s wedged between them—inside me. I whimper.
“Shit,” he mutters, freezing.
Is this it? Is this as bad as it gets? It hurts, but if it doesn’t get worse, I can handle it.
“Are you all the way in?”
“Not yet.” His voice is strained.
“How much more to go?”
“Not much.”
I’m stuck. Pinned in place. Panic begins to crowd out the languorous haze in my head, but then his chest vibrates against my back and a rumble sounds in my ear.
My muscles relax, and he slides into the hilt with a grunt. His hipbones are hard against my ass. I’m stretching, and it hurts, but I also need more. I whine. He groans, pulls out slow and careful, and slides back in. With every stroke the hurt feels more double-edged—like it’s the other side of pleasure, and if I can bear it, I’ll topple over into the pleasure that I can feel gathering closer and closer.
Eventually, Cadoc stops guiding his cock and uses his free hand to play with my breasts, teasing my stiff, aching nipples until I moan from the back of my throat in a continuous hum matching his purr.
It becomes a different feeling. Blunter. I want harder. Rougher.
His wolf’s rumble vibrates my spine.
“Good?” he asks. Or maybe it’s a compliment. I don’t know.
I rub my clit while his rough hands roam from one breast to the other and his lips brush the place where my neck meets my shoulder.
My wolf is into it. She’s ass up, growling, impatient. For what, I don’t know. My mate is inside of me. Everything is as it’s supposed to be—we’re in my nest, my mate is strong, I’m safe—but unease niggles at the back of my mind.
I’m missing something.
“Shhh.” His lips graze my earlobe, and shivers zip down my spine. My back arches, and he slides deeper, hitting a spot that makes me spasm and quiver. The heat is inside me now, liquid and rolling. I moan. He withdraws and slides home again, nailing that spot.
“Yes,” I cry.
“Yes?”
“Yes.” It’s a demand. He obeys, stroking more quickly, driving me closer and closer to the edge. Oh, I like this. He’s surrounding me, holding me, making me feel so damn good.
It’s okay. It’s better than okay. I lift my hips for him, and he plunges deeper, so deep, until I go flying, shattering, my body convulsing, happy and light and filled with everything good and right.
I float down like a feather as Cadoc shudders and shouts, his cock pulsing and spurting hot into my belly, his knot swelling, stretching my pussy until I can hardly bear it, until I know he’ll split me apart, but I don’t mind because I’m boneless and floating in the stratosphere.
His wolf rumbles to comfort me, and I sink back into his chest. He wraps me in his strong arms, nuzzling behind my ear.
“Rosie, you feel so good.” His breath warms the crook of my neck. “You’re so beautiful.”
He goes on and on, holding me, interspersing his praise with kisses, and I drift, smiling. Content.
You smell amazing.
Your skin’s so soft.
You taste so sweet.