Page 11 of Mink Hijinks
His scent is blinding and fogs all thoughts from my brain, other than wanting to take him. But I hold back, not wanting to knot him until we have condoms. I don’t want him having regrets taking my knot bare in the heat of the moment. No consequences when he hadn’t planned on having an Alpha help him through his Heat.
“Fuck me, please. Please. Pumpkin. Pumpkin.”
My hand jerks our cocks together until he blows. He grips my biceps so hard I’m sure there will be bruises, but I don’t care. I’m close to my own orgasm and angle to come over his face. He grabs my thighs and pulls me closer until his tongue darts out to lick at my tip.
It takes everything in me not to press in, make him choke on my cock. But he does it to himself. He takes more and more until I warn him. And he greedily sucks down every drop I give him.
My legs wobble and I drop to the side of the tub, hoping not to crush him under my weight.
I lose track of how many times he comes—in my hand, against my thigh, across my abs, how many times he sobs out my name and begs for my knot. But I can’t give him the one thing he needs.
Not yet. The world narrows to his body moving against mine, to slick and heat and the need to anchor him through each wave of pleasure and pain. Hours pass and I can’t bring myself to leave him to bring him more sustenance.
Finally, the wave crests and passes. He falls into me, heavy and panting, damp hair stuck to his brow. “Sorry,” he slurs as tears run down his cheeks. “Sorry.”
I pull him close and breathe into his hair. “Donotbe sorry.” It’s me that’s sorry for holding back.
He presses his face to my chest and sighs. “I hate how needy I am.”
“I personally think it’s hot as fuck,” I say, and I mean it. I smoothe a hand down his back. “I love it when my partners are loud. Makes me feel accomplished.”
He snorts and meets my gaze. He really is so beautiful like this.
“You really don’t mind?” The words are so soft I strain to hear him.
“I really, really love vocal partners.” I cup his cheek and want to lean in for a kiss, but refrain.
His expression shifts, a mix of surprise and something deeper flickering in his gaze. “You’re serious?”
“Absolutely. Every sound you make tells me how good you’re feeling. It’s not just about me. It’s about us. I want to know whatgets you there.” I lean closer, my voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone. “You’re beautiful in your vulnerability, Pax. It’s part of what draws me to you.”
He swallows hard, the tension in his body easing just a fraction. “I’ve never felt comfortable being vulnerable like this, especially around an Alpha.” His eyes dart to the side, a hint of embarrassment creeping back in.
“Hey.” I lift his chin with my fingers, forcing him to meet my gaze. “You’re safe here. I promise. You can be however you need to be with me. That’s what being Fated is about, right?”
The heat in the air thickens as he searches my eyes, and I can see the battle within him—between his desires and the fear of surrendering to them. I want to guide him through this, to show him that it’s okay to embrace every part of himself, especially the parts that society might deem “too needy” or “too much.”
“Okay,” he finally breathes, a tremor of relief mingling with hunger in his voice. “But you have to promise to be patient with me.”
“Always, baby.” I lean in, brushing my lips against his forehead, then his cheek, teasing him with the promise of more. “Now, let’s see how loud I can make you.”
With that, I move my hand again, teasing him, building him up as I watch his body respond. His breath hitches, and I can feel him getting closer, the tension coiling like a spring within him.
“C’mon, Pax. Let me hear you,” I say softly, my voice almost a growl as I stroke him, feeling every pulsing inch of him in my palm.
He gasps lost in the waves of pleasure. “I can’t… I can’t hold back…”
“Don’t,” I urge. “Let it all go.”
His body shudders as the wave crashes over him, a beautiful symphony of moans and gasps escaping his lips as he releases. Ikeep my pace steady, squeezing him just right, coaxing out every last drop as he rides the high.
“Gods, Aaron!” he cries, and the way my name sounds on his lips sends a thrill down my spine. I want to hear more.
I’ve never felt so alive, so connected to someone, and the heat pooling in my belly ignites further.
When he finally collapses against me, panting and spent, I cradle him close, feeling his heartbeat slow to a calmer rhythm against my chest.
“See? Not so bad being needy,” I tease, my fingers gently stroking through his hair.
