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That's all I need to hear. The growl I've been holding back tears free as I drive forward, burying myself fully inside her in one powerful thrust. The sound she makes—part cry, part moan—sends another surge of dominance through my system. Mine. Claimed. Bred.

"Take all of me," I growl against her ear, my voice barely recognizable. "Every inch. Every barb. Everything I am."

I set a rhythm designed to maximize the sensation of the barbs—pulling back just enough to drag them against her sensitive inner walls before driving deep again. Each thrust pulls sounds from her I've never heard before, high whimpers mixed with broken moans that feed my alpha pride.

"So tight around me," I murmur, letting the words flow without filtering them now. "Perfect omega body, made to take my cock, made to be filled with my seed."

She responds with pleas for more, her body moving to meet my thrusts. No longer just taking it but actively participating in our joining. My inhuman flexibility lets me maintain deep penetration while still maneuvering to taste her claiming mark, to whisper filthy praise against her ear, to watch every expression as pleasure builds.

"You're mine," I growl, letting her hear the possession I've always kept carefully contained. "Say it. Tell me who you belong to."

"Yours," she gasps, the admission torn from her as my barbs stroke some particularly sensitive spot inside her. "I'm yours, Fritz."

My tail, no longer lashing with unacknowledged feelings, wraps around her thigh with deliberate purpose. The muscular appendage gives me additional control over our angle,positioning her for deeper penetration while creating another point of connection entirely foreign to human experience.

Her slick heat surrounds me completely, the wet sounds of our joining filling the room alongside her increasingly desperate moans and my continuous growling purr. The scent of our combined arousal saturates the air—her omega sweetness and my alpha musk creating an intoxicating blend that feeds the rut instinct.

"Fritz," she moans, using my actual name rather than calling me "commander" or "feline" for the first time without anger attached. The sound of it—breathless with pleasure rather than cold with contempt—triggers something deeper than rut, something I've carefully avoided acknowledging until this moment.

My pace increases as her responses intensify, my control fracturing further as her willing surrender triggers the full dominance of my nature. My hands grip her hips harder, claws partially extended to create pinpricks of sensation without actually breaking skin. I allow more of my weight to press her into the mattress, my larger form pinning her completely as claiming instinct takes over.

Even in this primal state, I keep awareness of her limits—easing the depth when I feel her tense slightly, adjusting angle when her scent indicates discomfort, allowing brief respite when intensity threatens to overwhelm. The balanced control represents everything that separates claiming from mere rutting—the ability to dominate completely while still protecting what belongs to me.

"I'm going to knot you soon," I warn, feeling the familiar pressure building at the base of my cock. "Going to lock us together, pump you so full, make sure every drop of my seed stays deep inside where it belongs."

Her eyes, hazy with pleasure, focus on mine at these words. The knot remains the most alien aspect of claiming for a human omega—the expansion designed to ensure breeding success, to lock seed deep within the womb where it belongs. No human alpha could ever provide this.

I feel it swelling already, the base of my cock expanding with each thrust. Soon it will be too large to withdraw, binding us together for hours of continuous breeding. The thought sends another surge of savage satisfaction through me.

"Just breathe through it," I tell her, my voice barely recognizable through the rumbling growl of approaching completion. "Your body remembers what to do even if your mind doesn't."

She nods, trust evident despite the apprehension in her scent. When the partially expanded knot presses against her entrance, beginning the stretch that will join us completely, I feel her momentary hesitation. Then, remarkably, she bears down against me, her body yielding to the intrusion with deliberate intent rather than just biological response.

"That's it," I praise, the words coming between clenched teeth as pleasure threatens to overwhelm coherent thought. "Taking your alpha's knot like you were made for this."

With a final powerful thrust, the knot pushes past initial resistance, her body stretching impossibly to accommodate the fullness. The sensation of being locked completely inside her triggers my release with overwhelming force. My seed pulses deep within her, each wave accompanied by a full-body shudder I can't control.

The pressure of my knot against her most sensitive inner spots triggers her own climax in response, her inner walls squeezing rhythmically around me, intensifying my pleasure to near-unbearable levels. The pulsing of her body milks additionalwaves of release from me, her omega biology instinctively maximizing breeding potential.

"Mine," I growl against her throat, fighting the urge to renew my claiming mark at this vulnerable moment. "My omega."

"Yours," she gasps between shuddering breaths, surrender complete in both body and voice. "Your omega."

The joining goes beyond mere physical relief—a completion that satisfies something deeper than reproductive instinct. We remain locked together, her body continuing to squeeze my knot with aftershocks of pleasure that trigger additional pulses of seed.

As the intense waves of pleasure gradually subside, I'm acutely aware of our position—my larger form still pinning her completely, my knot firmly locked inside her, ensuring not a drop of seed escapes its destination. The fullness must be overwhelming for her, yet her scent carries satisfaction rather than distress.

During our previous claimings, I maintained this locked position only as long as strictly necessary before withdrawing to separate sleeping quarters, providing water and food but never comfort. Clinical and cold, like a medical procedure rather than mating.

This time, I make a different choice.

"We'll be locked together for hours," I tell her, my voice returning gradually to normal as the intense rut response subsides. "The knot won't go down until it's done its job."

She nods against my chest, a small shiver running through her despite the heat of our joining. With careful movements that avoid disturbing the knot still binding us, I maneuver us onto our sides, cradling her smaller form against me. The position requires flexibility no human spine could manage, another reminder of the inhuman nature she once feared.

My higher body temperature—several degrees above human normal—radiates heat that envelops her completely. Another evolutionary advantage, designed to keep an omega carrying my offspring at the perfect temperature. My tail adjusts its position, still wrapped around her thigh but no longer for control—now for continued connection, the fur-covered muscle providing additional warmth and stability.

She stiffens momentarily at this unexpected intimacy before gradually relaxing against me. The vulnerability of this position—exposing my throat and belly while still joined—communicates trust no words could express. In feline society, such exposure is reserved only for those within innermost circles.