Page 34 of The Librarian and Her Alphas

He releases my hair, hands returning to my hips as he establishes a rhythm—slow, deep thrusts that allow me to feel every inch of him dragging against my inner walls.

“You feel incredible,” Gunnar groans, his pace increasing gradually. “So hot. So wet. Made to take my knot.”

His crude words send another flood of wetness from my core, making his thrusts even smoother and deeper.

The initial discomfort has given way to pure pleasure now, each stroke hitting places inside me that I didn’t know could feel so good. My earlier orgasms from his tongue seem like mere preludes to what's building within me now—something bigger, more intense, more all-consuming.

“Yes,” I moan, pushing back to meet his thrusts. “Yes, like that. Don’t stop.”

“Wasn’t planning to stop,” he grunts, his rhythm faltering slightly before resuming with even greater force. “Not until you’re screaming my name. Not until you’re coming on my knot.”

His thrusts become harder, faster, more erratic—the controlled rhythm giving way to something more primal, more desperate.

I feel the beginnings of his knot now, the base of his cock swelling as it catches slightly on my entrance with each thrust.

The sensation is indescribable—pressure and fullness beyond anything I’ve experienced. Each time the growing bulb of his knot pushes into me, then pulls back, a new wave of pleasure crashes through my system.

“That’s it,” he growls in my ear, his chest pressing against my back as he covers me completely with his body. “Take it. Take all of me.”

The change in angle drives him impossibly deeper, his cock hitting the spot inside me that makes stars explode behind my eyelids.

“Oh!”

“Scream for me again,” Gunnar demands, his voice a ragged command against my ear. He punctuates his words with an intense thrust that steals my breath. “Let everyone hear how good I’m making you feel.”

His hand slides beneath me to cup my breast, fingers pinching my nipple with just enough pressure to border on pain.

“More Gunnar!” I scream breathlessly. The dual sensation—his cock stretching me from behind, his fingers on my clit—draws another cry from my throat, exactly as he wanted.

The wet sounds of our coupling fill the air around us, loud squelching noises as his cock drives into my soaked hole again and again.

My face burns with embarrassment at how audible my arousal is.

“Listen to how wet you are for me,” Gunnar says as if reading my thoughts. “Your pussy is dripping for my cock, isn’t it? Making those pretty sounds just for me.”

His words send another flood of wetness from my core, making our joining even more audible. I moan into the crook of my arm, trying to muffle the sound.

“No,” he snaps, his hand finding my hair again and pulling my head back. “I want to hear you. Every sound, every word. Tell me how it feels.”

“It feels—” I gasp as he hits a particularly sensitive spot. “It feels so good. So full. You’re so deep?—”

“Deeper than the others?” he asks, his voice rough with exertion.

“Yes.”

A pleased rumble vibrates through his chest, pressed against my back as he covers me completely.

“And who do you belong to right now?” he demands, his thrusts becoming harder, more insistent. “Whose omega are you in this moment?”

“Yours,” I pant, the word dragged from some primal place inside me, even though I didn’t mean it. I would tell him that later, but all I wanted right now was his knot to relieve my heat. “I’m yours, Gunnar.”

His responding growl is more animal than human. This sound reverberates through his chest and into mine, where our bodies press together.

His hand releases my hair to slide beneath me again, this time traveling down my stomach to the center of my thighs. His fingers find my clit with expert accuracy, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves in time with his thrusts.

“Oh god,” I moan, shaking. “I’m going to…”

“Not yet,” he says sharply, his fingers stilling on my clit. “Not until I say so.”

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