Page 66 of Choosing Her Alpha
When she climaxed again, he followed, biting at her mating mark in reverse and knotting her.
Once he was embedded inside her, neither of them wanted him to leave. He stroked at her clit until it was sore, kissed at her lips until they were swollen, and pumped his hips into her until her bones felt bruised.
Sasha slept again, and when she woke, she found Kane still locked inside of her, holding a plate and eating some of that meat. He drank water and shared with her, the same as before. She slipped away again into unconsciousness.
She came to awareness while already coming once to find his head between her legs, three of his fingers hooked in her mouth. Another finger stroked her back entrance, slippery with her slick.
"Don't," she croaked.
Over the slope of her body, his eyes met hers with ferocious dominance. Regretting the single word instantly, she realized she didn't get to tell him no.
He gathered more slick, spurred by her denial, and pushed his finger in relentlessly. The tunnel was dry, soaking up the moisture. He lapped up her release then spit over his hand, pushing forward ruthlessly while he watched her, lips twisting in a sneer of merciless elation.
"All this beauty, mine. All of it. Every hole," he told her, then kissed her mound while his finger pumped deep and deeper, rubbing against walls until he found a small little nodule unique to breeders.
His touch there inflicted an instant hard climax, a button that led straight to shattering rapture. Her mouth opened, her eyes rolled back in her head, and darkness took her.
Chapter 18
Kane’s head was still between her legs when she woke, lapping at the new mess he had caused with long, hungry strokes of his tongue.
When he realized she was awake, he dipped fingers between her legs as if he were dipping them into a jar of honey and fed her their combined essence, her slick and the sperm that would be dripping from her for days, raw and earthy. She sucked at his fingers unthinkingly.
Again and again he fed her this way, until he decided to move so that he could keep at his lapping and she could in turn feed from him. He didn't forget her breasts, returning to nurse even though her nipples were sore and damaged.
She suspected in the back of her mind that Kane was not going to give up. He was going to work at her breasts until she was fully lactating, until every two hours she had to pump the milk or seek him for relief.
There was no following how many times Kane gave her his knot, how many times her body twitched and tightened at the extreme pleasure.
The end of her estrous felt like this gradual thing where her core craved less cock and more rest, and her body hurt more than it was pleasured. Some of Kane's fierce demand lightened, becoming cooing praise. He used his teeth less, his lips more.
She heard a voice in the room asking questions and attempted to croak a demand that the intruder leave. Kane moved, tucking her beneath him and under bedding, shushing her and answering the questions himself.
It felt like he was knotting her less now and feeding her more. He fed her from his cock as if it was a nutritious potion nothing could compare to.
She was spent; her eyes refused to open.
Until she startled into wakefulness upon realizing Kane wasn't in the bed.
Before she could scream for him, he was there, wet and fresh from a shower. Sasha climbed into his arms, pressing her cum-covered, filthy body against him while sipping at the water still on his skin.
"I want to wash too," she whispered. It seemed like Kane had been pushing her to fewer screaming heights in the last few hours, or days, and her voice was healing.
"No. Later. I like how you smell."
"Hmm, I smell like you, but my scalp itches. Wash me."
"No." The answer was final.
She did not like that he got to do that, just decide, without reason or explanation. There were going to be great battles ahead at some point if he asked her for something she could not give. But Sasha had learned to pick her battles.
A shower right this minute was not worth the effort when she could be licking at his gorgeous skin. And she loved pleasing him. It didn't just feel easy to obey him; it was a visceral pleasure that made her insides glow. His happiness was her happiness.
He had bullied her and controlled her for days, putting her where he wanted her, and there were so many places on him she had yet to explore. She sat up to lap the beads of water trickling down his neck from his hair over the deep, scabbed bite she had given him. She kissed it, wanting to bite again and taste his blood.
He cupped her bottom in one hand, spread her cheeks, and squeezed, then slipped up her waist where his fingers overlapped and pulled her away before she could set her teeth in him again. He kissed his own mark on her neck at the disgruntled noise she made and fingered the chain that rested at the base of her throat.
"Later," he said.
