Page 111 of Pack Choice
The friction is delicious and I moan, wrapping my arms around his neck and drawing him closer. He looks me square in the eye, then he kisses me, only the head of his cock resting inside, my pussy becoming desperate for the rest of him.
I squirm, lifting my hips, attempting to drag him inside. He only kisses me more deeply, sweeping his tongue through my mouth. Then, when I think I may explode with frustration, he thrusts inside, this time using all the power of his body, this time fucking me hard, this time forcing noises of surrender from my throat.
He doesn’t stop. He ruts me just like I knew he would. With power and passion, skill and determination. And I am lost to it and lost to him. Yet acutely aware of the other alphas in the room, of their ragged breaths, of their heightened scents, of the pound of their hearts.
I’m aware they’re watching. Unable to look away. Soaking up the way my body responds to the pounding of River’s. It makes the experience even more erotic.
I never really liked the watching part before. I’m no porn star. I worried my sex face would be ugly. I worried my scent would have lips curling in disgust. I worried watching for alphas would never be enough.
Once again I’m wrong. I want to perform for them. I want to turn them on. I want them to watch as I fall apart.
And as I do, held firmly in River’s caress, I hear Colt mutter, “I’d forgotten how good this could be,” and I wonder what on earth that could mean.
27
River
I knot the omega.
I hold her down so she can’t squirm away, and I stretch her open, locking my expanding knot into the entrance of her pussy. Loving the way she gasps and squeals, then sighs as another of those orgasms sweep through her warm body and I pump my spunk deep inside her.
Fuck, I love this part. I’ve always loved this part. What alpha doesn’t? Especially when the omega in question is in heat. All creamy and fertile, begging for it all, needing it all. There is nothing better in this world. Racing. Beating my opponents. Smashing records. It comes close, but it isn’t enough.
And this omega?
I peer down at her face, her fair hair stuck to her sweaty brow, black mascara tears trailing down her face, her cheeks flushed pink, and I know it’s never been this good.
I’d give it all up – the racing, the winning, the fame and the fortune – if it meant I could fuck and knot her, fuck and knot her, fuck and knot her.
Breed her.
I trail my hand down her still quivering body to her belly, soft and flat. I frown. I want to make that belly bulge. I want it straining with our come.
I freeze.
Ourcome?
I shake my head.
I’m in rut now.
My cock permanently hard, dribbling pre-come and ready to seed her at a moment’s notice. My mind and my body wanting and knowing only one thing.
I’ve been here before. But the rut’s… I shake my head a second time. It’s never been this deep. This all-consuming.
Because of this omega.
I smooth my hands up her body and she murmurs in response, then I wrap my arms around her and roll onto my back, taking her with me so she’s lying across my chest.
Then I purr for her. My little one.
Her body relaxes, but it isn’t enough. She murmurs, wriggling against me. She’s still needy. This is Molly Stormgate. I should have known it would be like this.
“You need more, little one?” I whisper and she answers with a throaty “yes”.
I peer out at the other two alphas in the room.
Colt and the bodyguard.
