Wild (Savage Alpha Shifters 1)

With the grinding motion, he just keeps pulsing against that spot inside and to top it all off, he’s making the sexiest purring sound in between grunts.

“Ty…Ty… Tyson, too much. Too much,” I squeak out.

“No. Take more,” he demands and then he’s twisted sideways to reach those bitemarks with his mouth and sucking on that spot. It’s too much. Too, too much. I’m crying while I’m coming because it’s just insanely intense.

He needs to stop.

He comes even more. More of that hot liquid spills from me and finally the fullness subsides just a little bit and I’m feeling relieved that I can come back down to earth. But I’m feeling that way too soon because instead of him rolling over after he pulls out, instead he flips me to my back, and then he rams inside again, eyes ablaze and jaw ticking.

Holy shit. This has to stop.

He’s not gonna stop.

How is he still hard?

Sensation tears through me like an inferno.

“Stop,” I breathe.

He pulls out, hauls my legs up so the backs of my ankles are resting on his pecks, and he’s slamming inside again, spearing me with that heavy, hard cock.

“Please. St-top. Ty-Tyson, please. Stop.” My whole body is buzzing and I’m having convulsion-like tremors as my vagina spasms, spilling out hot liquid while he continues to hammer it into me.

“No,” he snarls. “You’re gonna learn, Ivy.”

He knots inside me again. A-fucking gain.

Learn what? Learn what it means to be fucked to death?

18

Tyson

She feels so tight, so right. Her little pussy is hugging my cock so hard, squeezing around me with intention, telling me I should never be outside of her despite what her mouth says. This pussy is the boss. It wants all I want to give it and I’m going to keep giving it. This perfect creature is mine. Her beautiful tits are bouncing, the tips like ripe raspberries pointing at me, begging me to taste them. I’m too busy knotting inside her and groaning as the sensation of warmth floods me and makes my balls empty inside her again. I stare at her tits as they bounce, listening to her whimpers and her pleading with my name, and with a short version of my name that she seems to use when she’s either coming hard or pleading with me to stop. She shortens my name to Ty. I like it when she does that. When she does that, she feels me inside her, feels me owning her.

Finally, my knot subsides and I’m again moving both in and out as she flops listlessly, tears spilling from her beautiful bluebell-colored irises.

I lick one ripe raspberry nipple, then the other and caress where I’ve put my mark on her and this makes her whimper some more.

“Please, please,” she whispers, eyes closed and her body shaking.

The sun is setting and my stomach needs food. I’ll have to stop fucking her long enough to get food into my little mate as well as into myself.

I kiss her.

“Please stop. I can’t take anymore,” she cries out and her body is limp. She’s exhausted.

I’ve brought her to climax more than half a dozen times.

“You’re mine, Ivy. Your body is mine and your heart will be, too. You don’t leave me,” I remind her.

Her eyelashes flutter and she winces as I pull out, my cock ready to take a break if it must. Finally, the muscles inside her pussy are no longer tightening around me. She needs a break.

I want more, but she’s eaten so little today and it’s approaching night. There’s also a chill in the air since I hadn’t rebuilt the fires when we got back from town. The kitchen is filled with the food we bought. I only put the meat and the other cold items in the fridge; everything else is in bags on the floor and on the countertop and table.

I rise and stretch out my back muscles and she whimpers again and pulls her legs together but her eyes on me are appreciative. My little Ivy likes my body. I like hers, too.

“Ow,” she whispers, eyes closing, and then she shivers.

I lift the blanket over her and caress her face while I give her a low purr, which makes a smile spread across her face. She likes when I make that sound. I’ve never made it in my life before. I only make it for her.

It’s a sound that I somehow know comes from my wolf, my wolf who would normally, in spring times when I’ve had to shift to man form, be whining and pining to come out and run. At night, I ran when I wasn’t mounting a female. My wolf wants to run and leap with jubilation at the fact that I have her. It also wants to celebrate by hunting and feasting, then returning so I can mount her again.