Page 71 of Nursing the Alpha
“Fuck… that’s it, baby,” I whispered against his skin. “Feed me. Let me have it all.”
I switched to his other pec, my hand squeezing the first gently, milking him as my mouth worked. His body arched faintly, a soft sound escaping his throat.
My chest tightened. I wanted more.
I wanted him awake.
I wanted him begging.
I wanted?—
My lips trailed higher, over his collarbone, his throat, until they found his mouth.
I kissed him.
And he kissed me back.
I froze.
His eyes, wide, dark, and burning, stared up at me.
I jerked back in shock, but his legs wrapped around my waist like a trap snapping shut.
“Don’t you dare stop,” he said, his voice hoarse but steady. “Or do you only want to fuck me when I’m all drugged up?”
My breath caught.
“No,” I said. My voice cracked, raw and desperate. “No, Flynn. I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”
He fisted his hands into my hair, yanking me down, and our mouths crashed together.
It wasn’t a kiss. It was a collision. Of raw desire.
Teeth, tongue, need.
I swallowed his groan as my hips surged forward, and I buried myself inside him in one hard thrust.
He cried out into my mouth, his nails raking down my back, and I lost it.
I fucked him rough, hard, triumphant, my hands pinning his wrists above his head as our bodies slammed together. The sound of wet skin and our ragged breaths filled the room.
“You’re mine,” I growled against his lips. “You’ve always been mine.”
“Then take me.” He locked his legs tighter around me. “Take everything. Don’t you fucking hold back.”
My sweet, filthy omega.
I didn’t hold back.
I pounded into him like I’d die if I stopped, my mouth moving between his lips and his nipples, sucking greedily, drinking as I fucked.
Milk sprayed between us, coating our chests, dripping down our stomachs, slick and warm and obscene. The bed groaned a protest under our weight, my thrusts frantic as though I could get to crawl inside his skin and live there forever. Then I would never have to pull out.
“God, Flynn—so fucking tight—so fucking perfect?—”
“Don’t stop,” he panted. “Harder, Seth. Fuck me harder. I’ve missed you so much.”
My hands bruised his hips as I obeyed, holding him down onto the bed so he couldn’t pull away while slamming into him with brutal, desperate strokes. “I missed you too. Every night I claimed your body but missed this. Missed your consciousness.”
