Page 45 of Down Knot Out (Pack Alphas of Misty Pines #3)

Hunger rumbles from him as his tongue thrusts inside me, licking and sucking until my body warms with slick, readying for my Alpha.

Sitting back on his heels, he uses both hands to peel away my underwear slowly enough for each inch to register. The air chills my skin, but it’s anticipation that shivers up my spine.

He hikes my knees up and apart, then slides one hand along the seam of my thigh. His thumb brushes the slick heat at my center, testing, circling, then pushing inside.

I gasp, rocking my hips into his hand.

“You’re so good at this,” he murmurs, as he strokes in and out, finding a rhythm that loosens the knot in my chest and draws it south, heat pooling where I need it most.

The pressure of his thumb moves to my clit, adjusting speed and rhythm in tune with every shift of my breath until my whole body sings.

His finger finds my other entrance, teasing but not forcing. He uses my slick to massage the tight ring with gentle pressure, working in slow circles until my muscles yield, softening under his touch.

He alternates between both places, sometimes in unison, sometimes focusing on just one, and my mind unspools into wordless pleasure. Each stretch and fill is new, both jarring and addictive, and I want more, even as it threatens to split me open.

He leans over me, beard rasping my cheek. “You okay?”

“Don’t stop,” I whisper, my legs shaking.

He kisses my mouth, tongue dipping inside as his fingers push knuckles deep into my ass. He groans, the rumble vibrating through me. “You’re slicking back here, too.”

I whimper, tilting my ass to take his fingers.

“When your Heat comes, your body will want your Alphas’ cocks, anyway it can take them.” He picks up the toy, coats it with my slick, and holds it up for my inspection. “Want to see how that will feel?”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

He gazes down my body. “Fuck, you’re so pretty and pink everywhere. ”

The toy lines up to my ass, the tip swirling before he applies pressure. My muscles give, slowly, the stretch at first burning but turning blissful. He pushes in only as far as I can handle and waits, rubbing my clit with his other hand until my body adjusts.

The feeling of fullness is unlike anything I’ve known, and my inner muscles flutter around the silicone, trying to learn this new pleasure.

He works the toy in and out, matching each movement with a flick or press to my clit.

The sensations combine, looping into a feedback that lifts me higher with each pass.

He kisses my neck, my collarbone, the line of my jaw, murmuring praises as my hips begin to move on their own, seeking more of the fullness.

I’m close, already, and he senses it. He increases the rhythm, working the tentacle and his fingers in tandem.

“Blake,” I gasp. “Please?—”

His eyes burn with desire as he pushes the toy deeper, the thick base stretching me open.

The orgasm sweeps over me, every muscle contracting, every nerve ending firing at once. I cry out, limbs shaking. He holds me through it, never letting the sensation die, working me through every aftershock .

As I come down, he withdraws the toy and traces a lazy pattern down my thigh. “Still with me?”

“Yeah,” I pant, “still here.”

He kisses my knee before he moves to strip off his jeans, muscles flexing with each motion. Gently, he coaxes me onto my stomach, then up onto my hands and knees as he moves into position behind me, lining his cock up to my entrance.

With a steadying palm on my back, he rolls his hips once, letting the tip part my swollen folds before he eases inside.

The first inch burns in a delicious way that tells me I’m being claimed. He doesn’t rush as his hands span my hips, holding them still while he sinks forward, taking me one slow, torturous inch at a time.

The fullness threatens to take my breath. I arch, the muscles of my thighs and arms burning from the tension.

He leans over, letting his hairy chest brush the curve of my back, beard scratching my shoulder. “Shhh. Let me in, sweetheart. You can take it.”

I exhale, and with the release of air, my body opens, and he slides in the rest of the way, burying himself to the hilt.

For a heartbeat, there’s nothing but the perfect, impossible fit of him, the pressure and stretch of my body yielding to his. He rocks back, pulling halfway out before slamming forward. The impact ripples through me, shaking the last of the air from my lungs.

He finds a rhythm, slow at first, then harder. Each stroke slaps skin to skin, filling the room with a sound that leaves no doubt about what we’re doing. He wraps a fist in my hair, pulling my head up and back so my throat arches.

The angle lets him drive deeper, and each time, the ridge of his head catches a place inside that has me shaking.

“Good little Omega,” he rasps, breath hot on my ear. “You were made for me. For us.”

I whimper, hands fisting in the bedding. He pounds into me, harder now, one arm around my middle, pinning me to him as he fucks me into the mattress.

“You’re perfect.” He grinds into me. “You’re going to be so pretty in Heat, stretched over our bondmates.”

I moan at the image, at the animal hunger in his words.

He slows, letting his cock rest inside me. His hand slides from my hip to the cleft of my ass, stroking the pucker there .

“Ready to take more?” His hand strokes down my spine. “To be filled in both places at once?”

My entire body clenches at the thought, every muscle going tight, slick flooding from my body in anticipation.

“Yes,” I gasp. “I want it. Please, Alpha, I want all of you.”

He laughs and pulls out of me to grab the tentacle toy from the covers.

“You’re not going to break, sweetheart.” He lubes the toy with my arousal, coating every curve and ridge before bringing it to my ass. “You’re made for this. For taking everything your Alphas want to give you.”

He works the tip back into me, careful and slow, his other hand massaging my lower back, coaxing me to relax. The memory of the earlier pleasure it gave makes my muscles yield, and the tentacle slides in with a new, burning stretch.

The feeling is too much and somehow not enough. It borders on the edge of what I can take, but I still want more.

He keeps going, feeding it in, the ridges catching on the rim before popping inside, one by one. My head falls to the mattress as I whimper and moan .

“That’s it,” he says. “Let it all go. You’re so pretty when you open for me.”

He thrusts the toy the rest of the way in and leaves it in place, the base still poking out from between my cheeks.

With both hands, he spreads my ass cheeks and leans in to tongue the place where the toy disappears inside me.

The heat of his mouth, the wetness, and the graze of his beard all combine to become too much.

I moan, rocking my hips backward, silently pleading.

The mattress shifts as he moves behind me again and notches his cock back into position.

As he pushes inside, the toy filling my ass magnifies the pressure, and every ridge and vein of his cock drags over sensitive flesh. The two together create a fullness that leaves me gasping, tears pricking my eyes, as the sensations loop and double, amplifying every nerve ending.

Blake starts to fuck me in earnest, the thrust of his cock dragging the toy inside me with each thrust. They move together in a rhythm that sets my entire lower body on fire.

His hands grip my hips, pulling me back to meet every stroke. “You feel that?” He grinds into me, his body pushing the dildo deeper. “This is what your pack will do to you, little Omega. We’re going to fill every hole until you can’t think or walk.”

The words melt me, my bones turning to vapor. “Love you, Blake.”

“Love you, too, sweet girl,” he moans, his hips rocking.

My orgasm starts as a gathering current, tension wrapping around the base of my spine and climbing. But as Blake’s rhythm speeds up, it intensifies, white-hot and blinding. I scream his name, the sound muffled by the mattress as my fists twist in the bedding.

He slams into me, again and again, the base of his cock swelling as his knot starts to form.

“Going to knot you, sweetheart,” he warns, but I’m already there, already clenching so hard around him and the toy that I feel ready to shatter.

The knot stretches me and locks inside. My body clamps down, trapping him, and the orgasm explodes, bigger and hotter and deeper than anything I’ve ever experienced.

I sob into the covers, tears streaming down my face, not from pain, but from the sheer, uncontainable relief of it. Of finally being full.

Blake holds still, his knot pulsing inside me, cock pumping in rhythmic bursts. He wraps his arms around my waist, burying his face in my neck. “That’s my good girl. Take it all.”

I do, letting the pleasure break me apart and scatter my pieces.

We stay like that, locked together. My body shudders with aftershocks, and every small movement of his hips sends another wave rolling through me.

When his knot subsides, he pulls out, slow and careful, and helps me lower onto my side. He extracts the toy, and I whimper at the loss.

“Shhhh,” he murmurs, curling his body around mine. “You did perfectly. You’re going to be so good for us when you go into Heat, sweetheart.”

His hand smooths over my back, and he kisses my hair, the scent of him blending with mine and the sharp, salty tang of sex.

We lie tangled for a while, my face buried in the pillow, his arms around me.

His beard brushes the back of my neck as he kisses my nape. “Tell me again.”

I reach back to thread my fingers into his hair. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” His teeth scrape my sensitive flesh, pulling a gasp from me. “Can’t wait to leave my mark on you. Make you mine.”

“Me, too.” Another shiver of pleasure rolls through me. “Can’t happen soon enough, if that’s what it’s going to be like.”

“It will be even better,” he promises.

I sigh in contentment, my body still humming.

“You’re going to write the best filth on the planet,” he says after a while. “You’re going to ruin people for normal romance. And you’re going to self-publish it, so no one can take it from you.”

I don’t answer, but a smile tugs at my mouth. My brain is already writing the first chapter.

He senses it and hugs me closer. “There she is. My Omega.”

His words settle into my marrow, and as I drift toward sleep, the first lines of the new story write themselves behind my eyelids.