“I’ve been craving your taste the whole damn morning, baby. Give it to me.”
Kissing is such a different thing when you’re restrained. I couldn’t draw him down, sink my fingers into his hair. While Beau didn’t exactly flex his dominance muscles much, they expressed themselves in strange ways like this sometimes. I was forced to follow his lead, seeking his mouth blindly when he gave me featherlight little kisses, parting my lips when he deepened things. When I felt his body crawl over mine, when his whole body focussed itself on plundering my mouth, when he kissed the breath out of me, licked the taste out of me, and then pulled away, he left my lips stinging.
“More, Beau…” I asked him.
“That’s what I like to hear. Just keep saying that, omega, for as long as you can. You know I’ll never get enough. I love rubbing my cock against the bedspread as I’m eating you out or fingering you, getting harder and harder each time you gush, imagining what its gonna feel like when I sink my cock inside you. That’s what I need now, baby.”
Before I could reply, his mouth found the bites on my neck. All of them were fascinated and enticed by how sensitive they made me.
“Beau…” Each swipe of his tongue, each firm suck of that tender skin, felt like it was doing the same between my legs. “Beau…!”
His hand slid down, finding my clit on automatic and then rubbing it briskly as his teeth matched the marks on my neck.
“Oh fuck, Beau.”
He let out a growl, and that sound, those vibrations, had me twisting underneath him, bucking against his grip.
“First one, hard and fast, omega,” he ordered, his strokes growing lighter and faster now as he mouth closed down on my mark again.
He’d learned everything about me. If he went hard stimulating my clit at the start, I got too sensitive to play much later, so the first orgasm was always this frustrating thing, a promise of pleasure, rather than an overwhelming wave of it. I felt my body tighten, clamping down on a distressing nothingness, but that was all a part of it too. I hated feeling empty, so he’d get me off just like this, keeping that need for penetration firmly in my mind when he went back for more. I whined, pleaded, pressed as far as the restraints would allow without ripping free, and that was when it happened.
Sharp little prickles of pleasure rained down all over me until I was sobbing out my response. He gave one last lick across my marks before he started to move downwards. My chest heaved, thrusting my breasts up into his face, and he met them there, plucking at the nipples, then raking his claws across them and sucking the one closest in. I was starting to hate these bloody restraints, forcing me to just submit to his caresses.
I wanted to touch him, pull his face up and steal kisses, before shoving him right back where he was. I wanted to drag my hands across his back. If I was going to have a beautiful man as a mate, surely that meant I got to touch him? I wanted to stroke his hair as he sucked on my nipple slowly, making me feel every press of his tongue as the pressure ratcheted higher, but most of all, I wanted this.
The press of his body against mine. The way he shoved it into the mattress. The restive shift of his hips, no doubt doing exactly as he said—edging himself closer with just pressure from the bed. I wanted to direct his head as he wended his way lower. I could tolerate him touching my abdomen now, because he’d earned that right. He waited until I was convinced, when I’d searched his face for signs of revulsion or a kink, and finally realised his expression didn’t change whenever he looked at one part of me or another. It was always the same.
One part reverence, four parts desire, and the last bit? He looked up my body now, and that was when I saw it, what burned in him and me—love. He loved me, loved my body, loved being close to me, my scent, loved making me come, right as he was going to do now. He reached down and pushed my knees towards my chest and then split me wide.
“Look at you, omega. You’re all wet and slick for me. I think I need a little taste.”
Previous boyfriends had treated going down on me like a gift at best or a bit of a chore at worst, but not Beau. One lick became another, a low growl forming in his chest as he went back for more and more. His tongue was thrust deeper, sucking my slick from the source to the sound of my increasingly sharp cries, but he yanked his head backwards, grinning at me through a mask of slick, before going to his supplies.
The single vibe was turned on, then slid through my folds, the head teasing my aching entrance, and that was when I began to beg.
“Yes, please… Beau, please. Alpha, I need—”
“I know what you need.” As if to prove his point, he pushed the device in, then out again, but that just made things worse. It wasn’t as long as him, nor as thick, but mostly, it wasn’t attached to him, and I groaned with pleasure and displeasure. Then I heard the pop of the lube cap before my hips were tilted backwards. “I know what you need, now and then.”
He rubbed his fingers across my arse, and I hissed in response. All the teasing the four of them had done felt like it had rewritten my body’s responses to this kind of stimulation. I’d come to crave that slow, steady pressure, the way my body gave way to them and those slick fingers were pressed inside. One, two, I could take that much more easily now, then a third. I hissed at that, and he stopped.
“You OK, Sage? Give me your words.”
But I was, wasn’t I? A hunger rose inside me, a somewhat alien one that was making its presence known more and more often now. She wanted this, him, all of it.
“Full.”
“Good or bad?” When I didn’t reply, he started to pull away, but I shook my head sharply.
“Good. Good.”
“Well done. Look at you, Sage, taking my fingers so well. You’re scared you can’t, but you can. Your body wants this, needs it, doesn’t it, darling girl? She needs to be filled right up with every pleasure.”
I was experiencing some of them. With the vibe buzzing persistently inside me and those fingers pushing in and out, my body was hit with so much sensory information—stretch, stimulate, rubbing, open, deep. When he pulled those fingers free, I groaned from the loss of them, but more lube was applied, and then they were replaced by something much harder and much smoother.
And bigger.
My hips flexed as something larger was pushed inside me, the stretching feeling growing teeth, ready to gnaw into me, when the bulb popped inside, the sensation a replication of what was about to come.