Page 23 of The Sterling Acquisition (Manufactured Mates #1)

When he added a third finger, crooking them to hit that spot that made Orion see stars, all pretense of coherent thought abandoned him. His world narrowed to those fingers stretching him open, that mouth working him over, the building pressure that threatened to tear him apart.

“Dante, wait, I need to—” he gasped, not even sure what he was begging for. “I-I can’t—”

Dante let Orion’s cock fall from his mouth as he pulled back, but his fingers remained, working steadily as the sound of a zipper filled the small room.

“Look at me,” Dante commanded.

Orion opened eyes he didn’t remember closing and saw Dante stroking himself with his free hand. The sight of him—hair mussed, pupils blown wide, jaw tight with restraint—was almost as overwhelming as the fingers inside him.

But it was the sight of Dante’s cock that made Orion’s breath catch. Thick, flushed, and intimidating in a way that sent twin spikes of desire and terror through him. His mouth watered even as his logical mind supplied the unhelpful observation: That will never fit .

The contradiction was maddening—wanting something that would destroy him, craving the very thing his body wasn’t ready for. The three fingers inside him suddenly felt woefully inadequate as preparation for something that size.

“This is what you do to me,” Dante said, his voice strained. “Can you feel how tight you’re gripping my fingers? I can already picture how it’s going to feel when I finally get inside you .”

Orion whimpered, caught between wanting to cum and wanting to maintain some shred of defiance.

His body was no longer his own, responding to Dante’s touch with an eagerness that terrified him.

This was surrender, and surrender meant ownership, and ownership meant the end of everything he fought for.

“I want to fuck the fight out of you,” Dante continued, his hand moving faster on himself. “And then fuck it back into you so our little dance never ends. You’re breaking me apart, and I fucking love it.”

As Orion got close to the edge, his body drawing tight as a bowstring, he used every ounce of stubbornness he possessed to resist. Dante seemed to sense his struggle.

“Cum for me,” he ordered. “Stop fighting and let go.”

“No,” Orion gasped, even as his body screamed for release. The pressure was unbearable, his muscles clenching around Dante’s fingers as he tried desperately to hold back. It was the last shred of control he had, and he clung to it like a lifeline.

Tears of frustration leaked from his eyes as Dante continued his relentless assault, fingers hitting that perfect spot over and over while denying him the friction he needed to finish.

In desperation, when Dante leaned close enough, Orion bit down hard on his shoulder, drawing blood through the expensive shirt. It was violence, not surrender—the last defiant act he could manage .

Dante’s response was immediate—a low moan of pleasure as his teeth found Orion’s collarbone in return, marking him with enough force to bruise.

The pain-pleasure combination shattered what little control Orion had left.

He came with a broken cry, his vision whiting out as his body convulsed around Dante’s fingers.

The intensity was unlike anything he’d ever experienced, wave after wave of sensation that seemed to go on forever.

It wasn’t just physical—it felt like something fundamental inside him was breaking apart, rearranging, becoming something else.

Through the haze of his orgasm, he felt Dante withdraw his fingers and heard the slick sound of him using Orion’s wetness to stroke himself. Then Dante was repositioning them, slotting their cocks together and wrapping his hand around both.

The sensation was too much. Orion whimpered, oversensitive but unable to pull away as Dante worked them both with ruthless efficiency.

He watched Dante’s face as the Alpha chased his release—saw the moment when that careful control cracked. Dante came with a strangled groan, spilling over both their cocks and his hand.

For a moment, they just breathed hard, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat and something that might have been satisfaction.

So that’s what it looks like when Dante falls apart , Orion thought distantly as the Alpha slumped against him. The observation came through a fog, his brain struggling to process what had just happened, what he allowed to happen.

It was beautiful and terrifying in equal measure.

“Do you know anyone in town who sells really strong suppressants?” Dante asked after they’d both caught their breath, his voice returning to that maddeningly practical tone .

Orion stared at him in disbelief. His body felt strange, foreign—loose and heavy and sensitive in ways he’d never experienced. And Dante was talking about suppressants like they’d just had a business meeting instead of whatever the hell that was.

“You’re asking this now? After all that?” His voice sounded wrong, hoarse from sounds he hadn’t meant to make.

“After establishing that your current condition makes strategic planning impossible, yes.” Dante was already reaching for something to clean them both up, efficient even in the aftermath. “Suppressants would give us more time to work with.”

“Why didn’t you start with that suggestion?” Orion wanted to sound angry, to maintain some semblance of his usual defiance, but he just felt... exhausted. Drained. Like something essential had been pulled out of him along with his orgasm.

Dante’s smile was sharp, unapologetic. “Because this was more satisfying than practical problem-solving.”

Orion wanted to throttle him—and was annoyed to realize he no longer had the energy for proper violence.

His limbs felt like lead, his mind sluggish and confused.

Part of him wanted to curl up and sleep for a week, while another part was screaming that he’d just surrendered something fundamental in ways that would be impossible to take back.

“There’s a clinic on the east side of town,” he said, the words coming slowly. “Gray market stuff, mostly. They don’t ask questions if you pay in cash.”

“Perfect. I’ll handle that this evening.” Dante finished cleaning them up and began straightening his clothes with clinical efficiency. “In the meantime, you need to be the compliant pet Leo expects to see. ”

“And if I can’t manage that?” How was he supposed to act normally after this? How was he supposed to pretend nothing changed when his entire body felt different, when he could still feel the ghost of Dante’s fingers inside him?

“Then we’ll have to accelerate our timeline.” Dante moved toward the door, then paused. “For what it’s worth, you were magnificent.”

Magnificent. Like he was a natural disaster rather than a person. Like his desperate struggle to maintain some control had been a performance for Dante’s entertainment.

“Go to hell,” Orion said, but without real heat. He was too exhausted, too confused by what had just happened between them.

“Already there, but I’ll be leaving soon,” Dante replied. “I hope you’ll come with me.”

The door closed behind him, and Orion was left alone with the knowledge that he’d just let his potential future owner give him the most intense sexual experience of his life while planning his escape from chemical lobotomy.

He stared at the ceiling, too tired to move, his mind a jumble of confused, half-formed thoughts. His body felt better and worse—the desperate edge of pre-heat dulled, replaced by a bone-deep satisfaction.

What did it mean that he responded so eagerly? Was it just biology, just his heat, or was he weak enough to be seduced by the first Alpha who knew what they were doing? Had he just handed Dante a weapon to use against him?

Orion pressed his palms against his eyes.

He should be furious—at Dante for pushing, at himself for responding.

Instead, he just felt... empty. He reached for the stolen blanket, still stuffed beneath his pillow, to stroke the plush texture as he wondered what the hell he was going to do.

Dante’s scent still lingered on the blanket. On him. In him.

It smells good.

Christ. He was in so much trouble.