Page 81 of His Forsaken Alpha

Morealpha-y.

That size difference should’ve scared him, but it only turned him on all the more. Cav had a good three or four inches on Warden, Wynter was sure of it.

Yet he’d been gentler than Warden in most every way.

Some pains couldn’t be helped, though. A bigger man took more out of him.

For instance, Cav’s knot.

It wasmuchlarger than Warden’s. At first, it had almost felt as if it was ripping him apart. It had ridden the edge of pleasure and pain—which he seemed to like when it was coming from Cav—and he’d soon grown accustomed to the sensation. After, he’d pushed and pulled to get that edge back. Cav had followed him there, too, appearing to enjoy the hint of pain.

Enjoying pain wasn’t something he’d imagined he’d want, either. It had hurt with Warden, often did as he didn’t seem to make as much slick as he did with Cav. With his true alpha, he was soaking with it, his body easily yielding to the size difference. Warden often had to use manufactured slick, if he bothered at all. Wynter’s comfort wasn’t something the man considered.

Wynter drew circles with his fingertip on Cav’s chest. He didn’t want to experience another heat with Warden. Ever. It was clear their bodies did not fit one another correctly, not like his and Cav’s did. The term ‘made for one another’ had been said time and again in reference to mates and he’d laughed at the concept.

After Cavanaugh, he understood it bone deep. His body had been made for his true alpha. Not the pretender.

Stop thinking abouthim.

As soon as the knot faded, Cavanaugh slowly withdrew. He sat up slightly and reached for something. He came back with a ready bottle of water. He pressed it to Wynter’s lips.

Wynter gulped, so parched. His lips felt dry as a bone, and he moaned against the water touching his tongue. He drained the whole thing, and Cav was quick to open another. Wynter nearly drained that one, too.

“Shit. Now I have to pee,” Wynter muttered. He was too exhausted to get out of bed.

Before he could say another word, Cavanaugh lifted him from the bed and carried him across to the attached bathroom.

“I wasn’t asking you to do that,” Wynter sighed. “We’rebothexhausted.”

“You can barely keep your eyes open,” Cavanaugh murmured.

He stood Wynter in front of the open bowl.

“How am I supposed to pee with you standing here?” Wynter asked.

“Are you able to stand on your own?”

Wynter wasn’t sure. Even with Cavanaugh’s support, his knees shook under him. “Maybe?”

Cavanaugh slid around to his side. He gripped the base of Wynter’s cock with one hand and pressed two long fingers into Wynter’s ass.

“What the hell are you doi?—?”

Cavanaugh pressed against something inside Wynter’s hole—and pleasure coursed through him. He immediately began to pee.

Red-faced, he turned to gaze at a smug Cavanaugh.

“Prostate massage,” Cavanaugh said with a shrug. “You had to go, so now you’re going.”

“What’s a prostate massage?”

“Fucking hell,” Cavanaugh whispered. “I havesooomuch to teach you, babe.”

Wynter’s face warmed more.

“No reason to feel any shame. I know it felt good, me touching you there.”

Wynter chuckled. There were no boundaries left, it seemed.

---