Page 172 of Bound By Song

She straddles my hips and reaches between us, lining me up. I hold her steady as she sinks down, slow and steady, her slick easing the way. We both moan when I slide inside – centimetre by painful fucking centimetre, stretching her open, filling her to the brim.

“Fuck,” she breathes. “You’re so deep.”

“You’re so tight,” I groan, gripping her hips. “So fucking perfect.”

“I think I know why you’ve been holding back now,” she jokes, beautiful baby blues crinkling at the corners as she breathlessly smiles at me. I grin in response, kissing her nose.

“You don’t have to do anything. This is more than I ever dared to dream of?—”

“Hush, Daddy, you’re kind of ruining the vibe.”

I huff a laugh, but it dies the second she starts to move.

She rolls her hips in a slow circle, dragging my cock against every drenched, swollen inch of her and I swear I see stars. She’s not just tight – she’s vice-tight, velvet heat clinging to me like she never wants to let go.

“Shit, Evie?—”

“Mm,” she hums, hands splayed over my chest, nails scraping lightly through the hair there. “I think I like being on top.”

“Yeah?” My voice is rough, wrecked. “You look fucking divine like this, omega.”

She moves again, slower this time, experimenting. She lifts herself just enough for me to slip nearly out, then slams back down with a gasp that’s part cry, part growl. Her eyes flutter shut, head tipping back, mouth falling open.

“You feel so big,” she whimpers. “So good. I can feel you everywhere, Dane.”

My hands tighten on her hips, not guiding – just anchoring. Supporting. Letting her take what she wants, how she wants it.

“That’s it, baby,” I murmur, voice low and shaking. “Ride me. Fuck yourself on my cock, wildflower. Take what you need.”

She does.

Over and over.

Every drag of her body down my cock sends shivers racing through me, white-hot and unbearable. I can feel every flutter, every clench, the desperate slick soaking my thighs as she fucks herself raw on me.

“More,” she pants. “Harder, please – I want it deeper. Want to feel your knot, daddy.”

I groan. My hips buck involuntarily, and she gasps when the head of my cock hits something deep inside her.

“Yes! Right there – do it again.”

“Greedy little omega,” I rasp. “So fucking hungry for your alpha.”

Her pupils blow wide. She leans close, licking a stripe up the side of my throat. “Then give it to me,” she growls. “Spank me. Pull my hair. I can take it. I want it.”

My blood turns molten.

“Get on your hands and knees,” I growl, flipping her gently but firmly onto her front.

She scrambles up, arching her back instinctively, presenting herself like a perfect little omega in heat. My cock twitches just at the sight of her – slick dripping from her swollen pussy, thighs trembling, back curved like a bow.

I grab a fistful of her hair and give it a sharp but careful tug, forcing her to look back at me.

“You want this?” I ask.

She moans. “Yes, Daddy. Want you to lose control. I want to feel it.”

I line myself up and slam into her in one hard, perfect stroke.

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