Page 18 of The Alpha Under My Bed (The Chosen #1)

Eighteen

MALCOLM

Ellie’s whole body trembled, her breath coming in ragged little gasps, fingers twisting in the sheets as if she could anchor herself—as if there were any saving her now.

There wasn’t.

I took my time, watching her struggle against the inevitable, still clinging to the illusion of power, still fighting, as though she had any control in this moment.

But she didn’t.

I reached down, letting my knuckles graze along her throat, lingering just above the mark I had left— my mark.

She flinched as if struck, a choked sound escaping her lips, a mix of humiliation, shock, and something darker—something raw.

I watched with a strange fascination as she tried to squeeze her thighs together, desperate to push it all away, to fight the inevitable. But the belt— my belt—held her in place.

A smirk tugged beneath the mask, and I let it grow.

“My poor girl,” I murmured, my voice distorted through the skull mask, low and taunting.

Her body shuddered in response.

I traced the faint ridges of my teeth marks, slow and deliberate, feeling the heat of her skin beneath my fingertips.

She tried to turn her head away, her breath sharp, ragged, but I caught her chin, forcing her to face me.

“Ah, ah,” I purred, my voice like velvet, “Don’t be shy, sweetheart.”

She whimpered, a sound that twisted something deep inside me.

I pressed my thumb to her lips, parting them just enough to taste the tremble in her breath. Instinct. Her body knew what it wanted, even if her mind still scrambled to deny it.

Her eyes, hazy and clouded, looked up at me—pupils wide, swallowing the color from her irises.

Her breath hitched, caught somewhere between a sob and a moan?—

And the belt pulsed again.

She broke— shattered —her body arching violently, a guttural sob escaping her lips as the pleasure crashed over her, relentless and unforgiving. Her hands dug into the blankets, searching for anything to hold onto as the waves of sensation ripped through her again and again, each pulse driving her further over the edge.

Her body fought it. I felt it in every tremble, every frantic tug to pull away, even as her hips betrayed her, bucking into the relentless vibrations.

She was desperate.

Ruined.

I flipped her with a sharp, fluid motion, pressing her face into the blankets, the weight of my body looming over her, my hand splayed between her shoulder blades, pinning her there.

She gasped, her body jerking beneath my grip, but I didn’t relent. My mask came off just slightly—just enough to drag my tongue over the mark I had left.

The reaction was immediate.

She screamed, the sound ragged and raw, as if every nerve in her body was on fire.

A full-body shudder wracked her—too intense, too much—as if every inch of her had been ignited in flames. Her hands clawed at the nest beneath her, grasping for something, anything, but it was useless.

No relief. No escape.

Just me.

I licked the mark again, savoring the sensation, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to it, feeling the pulse of heat beneath my lips. Her body quivered beneath me, surrendering completely to the sensation.

She collapsed then, broken, wrecked, breathless. A sob tore from her lips, a whisper of defeat. Her body, spent and trembling, had given up— completely.

I pulled back, lowering the mask into place once more, my eyes taking in the aftermath of what I had done, the utter destruction of her control.

She wasn’t just falling apart.

She was mine .

And she knew it.

She collapsed into the nest, her body trembling in the aftermath, her breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps.

But I wasn’t done. Not even close.

I pressed down on her back, forcing her chest flush against the nest, her hips lifted just enough to keep her helpless beneath me.

She was so fucking perfect like this.

Panting. Weak. Mine .

I ran my hand over the smooth metal of the belt, my fingers tracing its cool surface as she whimpered beneath me.

The vibrations had barely slowed. She was still sensitive, still squirming at every tiny pulse.

I spread her wider, forcing her knees apart until I had the view I wanted—the only thing left exposed and waiting.

She gasped, realization slamming into her all at once.

“No—”

“Shh, sweetheart,” I murmured, my fingers gripping her hips, holding her still.

She struggled, but it was pathetic—nothing more than instinct fighting against something that was already inevitable.

I groaned, dragging my teeth along the curve of her ass, pressing a slow, taunting kiss just above where I wanted to be. She stiffened, thighs squeezing together, the belt keeping her from any kind of relief.

I reached up, fingers hooking under the edge of my mask—just enough to lift it over my mouth, just enough to give her no warning before I licked over her ass. Her whole body convulsed, arching into the nest, shaking violently as pleasure ripped through her.

It was a feast laid out before me, and I was a starving man.

The sight of her needy ass in the air was almost too much to bear. The belt’s vibrations were relentless, a symphony of torment and ecstasy, her slick moisture glistening, beckoning me to take, to claim. I was done with games. I had teased her, tormented her until she was nothing more than a quivering, desperate mess—until her every thought, her every need, centered on me, her Alpha.

I leaned in, my breath hot against her exposed skin, my hands roaming over the lush curves of her ass. She tensed, a soft whimper escaping her lips as I spread her wider, baring every inch of her tight hole to my gaze. The sight of it made my cock throb almost painfully against the confines of my pants.

But patience was a virtue, and I was nothing if not virtuous when it came to worshiping my sweet Ellie’s body.

I buried my face between her cheeks, my tongue darting out to taste her. She was divine—a heady mix of sweetness and sin that flooded my senses, driving me wild. I lapped at her, devouring her with a hunger that refused to be sated. Her cries of pleasure filled the room, her body writhing beneath me as I pushed her closer and closer to the edge.

The vibrations of the belt intensified, a relentless pulse against her clit, and I could feel her orgasm building, her inner walls fluttering around my tongue. I knew the moment she came undone—her body tensed, her scream echoed off the walls as she came beneath me.

I gave her no time to recover, my hands already reaching for the lock on the chastity belt. The click of it releasing was like music to my ears. I pulled it away, tossing it aside, my eyes locked on the prize that lay beneath—her slick, wet pussy, finally mine for the taking.

I pulled back just enough to blow a stream of cool air over her heated flesh.

“Alpha, please!” she begged, her voice shaking, the word a plea, a prayer, a demand.

A filthy smile curved my lips beneath the mask. I reached for the key I had hidden earlier—the one that would free her from the belt’s torment. The lock clicked open, and I slid the belt away, revealing her glistening cunt. She was fucking drenched, her slick coating her thighs, the scent of her arousal thick in the air.

Positioning myself behind her, I nudged the head of my cock against her entrance. She was so fucking tight, her walls clenching around me as I pushed inside. Her gasp of pleasure was music to my ears—a symphony of surrender that drove me wild.

I wasn’t gentle.

I never planned to be.

“God, baby,” I gritted out, my grip bruising on her hips as I held her still, thrusting into her again—harder, deeper.

She cried out, her arms collapsing, sending her face-first into the sheets.

“Too much?” I teased, rolling my hips, dragging my cock against the spot that made her legs jerk.

She shook her head frantically, her fingers clawing at the blankets, trying to anchor herself against the intensity.

I chuckled, the sound low, dark, full of satisfaction.

“Good girl.”

I fucked her hard, each thrust forcing a cry from her lips. Her body moved with me, her ass slapping against my thighs with each powerful drive.

“That’s it,” I murmured, pressing a hand to the center of her back, forcing her down.

Her ass lifted, giving me even better access, letting me drive into her deeper, harder. She wailed, back arching, body convulsing. Her thighs clenched, fighting for control, but it was pointless.

I was taking her apart.

Breaking her.

And she was loving it.

She shuddered, the pleasure too much—too sharp, too overwhelming.

I reached down, my fingers finding the fresh mark on her neck, pressing into it.

The bond lit up, the connection flaring between us, an unbreakable thread wrapping around her soul.

She screamed.

I licked my lips, lifting my mask just enough to expose my mouth—to give her something new to focus on.

Before she could catch her breath, before she could think, I leaned in and bit down. The reaction was instant. She clenched around me, trying to suck the life out of my cock with that perfect pussy. I could feel my knot beginning to swell, the anticipation making my balls tighten.

“Mine,” I growled, the word guttural, animalistic.

She whimpered in response, her body shaking, her inner walls fluttering around my length. I was close—so fucking close. With a final, brutal thrust, I came, my knot locking us together as I filled her with my cum. The sensation was intense, pleasure so fierce it burned, bordering on pain.

We were locked together, our bodies joined in the most primal way possible. I could feel my seed spilling out of her, marking her, claiming her as mine. God, I hope this is what gets her pregnant.

I felt it the second my knot began to soften, the tight grip of her pussy easing, the tremors of her orgasm still making her walls flutter weakly around me.

She was wrecked.

Soft. Warm. Spent.

I could’ve stayed buried inside her forever, could’ve filled her until she was swollen with me, marked in every fucking way.

But I wasn’t done with her yet.

Not even close.

A whimper escaped her when I pulled out, a slick, obscene sound accompanying the loss. Her thighs trembled, her body already missing the stretch.

She didn’t move, her cheek still pressed to the sheets, her breath coming in shallow, shaky gasps.

I reached for the plug—already slick, already perfect for sealing her up.

She flinched when she felt the cool silicone press against her entrance, her legs twitching like she wanted to close them?—

But she couldn’t.

Not when I held her open.

Not when she was too weak to fight it.

“Shh,” I soothed, running my fingers along her spine, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. Her body jerked when I slid the plug inside, a small, desperate whimper escaping her throat.

“Still so sensitive,” I murmured, twisting the plug just enough to make her shudder.

She whimpered, her fingers gripping the sheets.

My cock twitched.

I almost wanted to fuck it into her, force her through another orgasm just to watch her break again?—

But not yet.

Not yet.

Instead, I reached for the chastity belt, lifting it off the sheets, the cold metal glinting in the dim light.

She tensed—the way her body locked up, the way her breath hitched, the way her fingers curled tighter into the blankets.

A reaction she couldn’t hide.

A sign that some part of her knew what was happening—even if she didn’t want to accept it. Even if she was too blissed out to fight.

“You’ll thank me for this later,” I murmured, my voice thick with satisfaction as I pressed the belt back into place.

A soft sob slipped past her lips—barely a sound, but I heard it.

Felt it.

She was breaking.

Frustrated. Desperate. Aching.

And I was going to keep her that way.

With a soft click, I locked the belt back around her waist, securing her, owning her all over again. She shuddered beneath me—completely ruined, completely wrecked.

My good little omega.

My mate.

Mine.