Page 82 of Altius
Morgan managed the first few inches before pausing, fingers scratching at the back of my hand, needing time to adjust to my girth. “Holy fuck… Oh, fuck… Wyatt—Wyatt!”
She laced one set of our fingers together and pushed my arm back, pinning it above my head as she took more of me inside. Turning me into her willing prisoner.
That didn’t mean I couldn’t plant my feet on the mattress and help things along.
Morgan hissed at me, but I didn’t stop. Answering her thrust for thrust, I gradually worked my straining cock deep inside her tight, silken heat.
Pressing a hand against her abdomen, feeling my length move inside her, a possessive purr sounded low in my throat. A true purr. Something I’d never done before. Ever.
“This is where I belong,” I said, hand splayed across her stomach. “Where I should have been every fucking day since I scented you in Arizona.”
She arched over me, eyes shimmering with what I feared were unspent tears, working us into a near frenzy.
“I regret every day I didn’t call, baby. Every text I didn’t send. I should have thrown myself at your feet and begged for forgiveness—”
“Stop,” she muttered, fingernails biting into my skin. “Don’t talk about that now.”
“Then let me show you.” Capturing her mouth, my kisses were a litany of silent apologies.
Tipping us onto our sides, I hooked her knee over my elbow, so that my hips could reach a little deeper, to make her feel my sincerity—and my inflated knot—to understand the depth of my love.
That I worshipped her.
Morgan gasped into my mouth. Pressing her breasts more firmly against my chest, eyes wide, she came in long, overwhelming waves of pleasure.
Undeterred, I continued my gentle onslaught until she climaxed again, but it wasn’t enough. I angled her hips higher so that my knot could grind against her clit.
“Give it to me,” she said, suspended leg swinging loose, only to wrap around my waist, urging me to stop holding back. “Mine, Wyatt—all of you—mine.”
Who was I to refuse?
Coating my hand with lube, I slipped between our bodies, slicking up my knot before pressing forward.
Her body resisted. The stretch was too much. She could take my cock, but my knot was too big.
We stared at one another, at a loss for how to proceed, until a bead of sweat dripped from my forehead onto her face. Her tongue darted out to capture it.
The first quarter-inch eased inside.
Morgan pulled me closer, sucking on the junction between my neck and shoulder, where my pheromones were densest, all but forcing herself to accept my knot.
Locked together, throttled with pleasure, our releases were endless. Every time my knot relaxed, she moved or whispered praise into my ear, setting me off again.
The scratch of her nails along my back. Her swollen lips begging for more kisses. The way our scents called to each other,weaving an intimate cocoon around us. Safe in a loop of never-ending ecstasy.
I gave her everything I had.
An unknown amount of time later, I regained consciousness, head resting on Morgan’s breast while she trailed her fingers across the Olympic rings tattooed on my ribs.
Had I done all right? Or had I pushed her too far, said too much?
I glanced up, feeling uncertain and inexperienced. But I shouldn’t have. Not with Morgan’s smile waiting for me.
“Hi,” she murmured, cupping my cheek. “I missed you.”
As she kissed the top of my head and sighed in contentment, a half-purr slipped out. The sound prompted an answering thrum in the depths of my chest.
Pressing a kiss to her palm, I murmured a promise—one I intended to keep, even if she wouldn’t remember it after her heat.
