Page 92
Story: Knot for Sale
Long fingers stroked over every part of me, pausing occasionally to pour more oil. Onyx took special care with my breasts and arse, sending tingling shocks along my nerves. By the time they were finished, stepping back to assess their handiwork, I was panting softly through parted lips, my pussy throbbing in time with my racing pulse.
“There we are,” Onyx said. “Wouldn’t want to make this too easy, after all.” They shot me a feral grin and returned to the bench, wiping their hands on a convenient workout towel.
The condom packet was lying next to the gym bag. Onyx rested one foot on the bench, exposing their folds to my gaze. “Touch yourself, little omega.” They teased their clit absently, watching me just as avidly. “But fair warning, once I get thiscondom on,you’re prey. Unless you say the wordstop, I’m going to eat you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
I gasped, feeling momentarily lightheaded with the scent of our combined arousal and the knowledge of what was coming next. My hand wandered to my slick breast, kneading it, my palm sliding over the oiled nipple. It pebbled beneath my touch. The jolt of pleasure was a hundred times more intense than any instance of some clueless beta gamely rubbing or licking at my pussy in a pointless attempt at foreplay.
Onyx let out a low hum of appreciation, their clit now fully erect and jutting out from its nest of trimmed black curls. Their smile turned teasing as they tore the foil packet open and sheathed the slender length in latex.
I was still gaping when I remembered the warning.You’re prey. With a startled yelp, I bolted for the far corner of the room at the same instant Onyx lunged for me.
It was a joke. There was nowhere to hide. Not enough room to run, and even if there had been, I wasn’t at all sure my natural omega speed could outpace Onyx’s cheetah-like build.
I darted behind a weight machine. Onyx chuckled, hemming me into the corner where I’d unwittingly trapped myself. Every time I feinted in one direction or the other, they blocked me. My blood rushed in my ears, every nerve in my body hypersensitive and on high alert.
It felt a little bit like panic; a little bit like hunger. There was only one way this ended, but the longer I could stave off the inevitable, the more intense things would be. My thighs slid against each other with every movement. Sweat beaded, mixing with the oil covering my overheated skin.
I darted left, Onyx matching me step for step, then ducked and bolted right instead. I made it three frantic strides before a long-fingered hand closed around my forearm and tugged—slipping against the oil, but not falling away.
Somehow, an ankle was in front of mine, tripping me up. Then I was on the mat, scrambling and wriggling in an attempt to get out from under the rangy body tangled with mine. Skin slid against skin, giving the illusion that if I just twisted a bit more violently, I could free myself.
I was hot, but Onyx felt like a furnace in the places our bodies pressed and slipped together. All of my hard-won self-defense skills trickled away like water in a cracked glass, leaving me a mindless animal, whimpering and growling as I tried to wrench free.
Fingers thrust into my pussy without warning, startling a howl of outrage from me. I clenched around them, pleasure roaring up my spine like a tidal wave, turning my muscles heavy and uncoordinated. A hand closed over the back of my neck, pinning me in place with my left cheek pressed to the mat.
I tried to buck, but my oiled knees slipped and slid uselessly. Onyx pumped three fingers in an out of me, an obscene sucking sound reaching my ears with every stroke. The sensation coiled like magma at the base of my spine—pressurized and ready to burst. I panted rapidly, drowning in spruce and bayberry.
My fingers scrabbled at the mat like claws, unable to gain any useful purchase. Then Onyx abandoned my passage in favor of my aching clit, rubbing firmly over it with rapid, rhythmic circles.
I gasped in a lungful of that heady miasma of alpha lust and came hard, my body going rigid as my hips jerked. My high-pitched whine tailed off in a sob when the fingers didn’t slow or gentle their movements in the least—rubbing ruthlessly even as a wave of oversensitivity sent me struggling to get free again.
“No good, Absinthe,” Onyx said, with a hint of breathlessness. “You’ll take whatever I give you, and you’ll take it until I decide we’re through.”
The words sent a fresh wave of lust through my belly, and just like that, what had been too much became a tsunami of pleasure. My hands and feet tingled with rushing blood. The fingers drove me back to the brink and over it—again, and again, and again, until my lungs were heaving and my vision gray.
At some point during the process, my body had gone limp except for the violent shudders of climax after climax wracking me. When the final bit of fight drained out of me, the hands that had been pinning me down and pleasuring me disappeared. They closed around my hips, pulling me unresisting to my knees.
Presenting.
A pitiful mewl escaped my throat. The hand returned to the back of my neck, holding my upper body firmly to the mat as Onyx lined up behind me and thrust in. Not thick, butlong. Their clit curved in such a way that it dragged inescapably over my front wall with every movement.
I moaned—a shuddering, broken sound.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Onyx said. “You’re so gorgeous like this. Don’t worry... I know just what you need, and now you’re going to get it.”
God, but they were right. This was just what I needed. Every deep, rolling stroke hit me exactly right, building toward a climax that felt like it originated down around my toes somewhere. I couldn’t get away... didn’t want to. Onyx administered pleasure like a punishment, and I was a helpless penitent worshipping at their altar.
When my final orgasm rose up and swallowed me whole, my awareness wavered like a heat haze. When it returned, Onyx was swelling inside me as my muscles clamped down on their perfect, wonderful knot.
Somehow, we were lying on our sides, Onyx’s hard-muscled body spooning me from behind. My head was pillowed on a sinewy bicep, and shaking fingers stroked my breast with gentlemovements. I let out a massive breath, some strange, internal tension melting away as I did.
“You’re perfect, Absinthe,” Onyx said, in a tone that sounded like awe. “Just think—if you and Elijah decided to stay, we could have this all the time. Please decide to stay...”
It was stream-of-consciousness... the post-coital mutterings of a knotted alpha. And in that moment, there was nothing in the world I wanted more.
Table of Contents
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