Page 11 of My Freshman Mate
My words seem to settle something in him. The tension melts from his shoulders, and he gives me a small, trusting nod. Good.
I move lower, my mouth finding the faint purple mark below his collarbone. My mouth closes over it with a gentle pull, drawing a soft gasp from him. My hands roam his body, learning the planes of his chest, the dip of his waist, the curve of his hips. I'm memorizing him. Branding every inch into my brain.
When I reach his cock, I find him already hard and leaking slick onto his stomach. I wrap my hand around his length, my thumb drawing lazy circles over the slick head. His head falls back against the pillow with a groan, his hips giving a tentative buck.
"So responsive," I praise, my thumb circling the slick head. "You like being touched by your alpha, don't you?"
"Yes," he chokes out. "God, yes."
I lean down and take him into my mouth. He cries out, a sharp, surprised sound, his hands immediately tangling in my hair. I take my time, worshipping him. I lick and suck, teasing him with my tongue, swallowing his slick. I want him to feel completely and utterly adored before I take him again.
He's close, his breath coming in short, sharp pants, his hips lifting off the bed. Just before he can come, I pull away. He lets out a frustrated whine.
"Not yet, little mate," I growl, crawling back up his body. "You're coming with my cock inside you."
I grab the lube from the nightstand. His skin is hot under my hands, flushed from sleep and arousal. I coat my fingers and slide them between his legs, finding him already wet for me, his body preparing itself. He whimpers as I push one finger inside, then two. He's still tight, still swollen from my knot last night, and the feeling is fucking incredible.
"Still sore?" I ask, my voice low.
He nods, biting his lip. "A little. But… but it's a good sore. Don't stop. Please."
That 'please' lights a fire in my gut. My omega is begging for me. I'd tear the world apart to give him what he wants.
"Good boy," I praise, adding a third finger to ease him open. He moans, his legs falling open wider, giving me better access. He's pushing back against my hand now, his body greedy.
When I know he's ready, when I can't wait another fucking second, I withdraw my fingers and line myself up at his entrance. He looks up at me, his eyes dark with a mix of anticipation and nerves.
"Look at me." My command is a low rumble, meant only for him. He does. "I'm going to fuck you, Braiden. I'm going to fill you up and remind you who you belong to. Are you ready?"
He gives a single, jerky nod, his knuckles white where he's gripping the sheets.
I push in, inch by torturous inch. It's even better than last night. Last night was a frantic, primal claiming. This is a deliberate, possessive conquering. I feel every ripple of his inner muscles clenching around me, milking me. The tight, wet heat of him is a paradise carved just for me.
"Fuck," I groan when I'm fully seated inside him, my balls tight against his ass. "You feel so perfect. Like you were made just to take my cock."
A broken sob escapes his lips, and he arches his back, trying to take me deeper. That's all the invitation I need.
I move, setting a slow, deep, punishing rhythm. I watch his face as I thrust, watch his expression shatter with pleasure. His eyes are squeezed shut, his lips parted as moans spill from him, one after another.
"That's it," I rumble, pinning his wrists to the mattress above his head with one hand. He gasps at the loss of control, his body going pliant. "Let go for me. You're safe. You're mine."
I use my free hand to stroke his cock again, matching my rhythm. His hips buck wildly, his body straining against my hold.
"Took my knot like you were born for it, little mate," I growl against his ear, thrusting deeper. "Felt so good splitting you open, filling you up. You feel that? How good you feel wrapped around me? Tell me."
"So good," he cries, his voice breaking. "Wes, please, I'm gonna—"
"Come for me," I command, speeding up, slamming into him with more force. "Come for your alpha. Show me how good I make you feel."
He screams my name as he comes, his release coating my fingers and his stomach. His body spasms around me, his inner walls clenching and milking my cock so hard my vision whites out. That's all it takes. I let go with a guttural roar, burying myself to the hilt and pumping my seed deep inside him until I'm empty.
There's no knot this time—that's not something I can control—but the claiming is no less complete. He's mine. I'm his. I can feel our bond—real, solid, unbreakable. More than just skin. More than just sex.
We stay like that for a long moment, me draped over him, still inside him, our breathing gradually slowing. I release his wrists, rubbing the marks my grip left behind. Then I carefully pull out, rolling to the side and bringing him with me, tucking him against my chest.
"You okay?" I ask, pressing a kiss to his temple.
He nods, his eyes still closed, a small, satisfied smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah," he says softly, his voice thick with release. "I'm… good. Really good."
