Reborn (Alpha's Claim 3)

The Alpha’s voice was so saturated in guttural possessiveness, in greed, in the arrogant confidence that she was his to dominate; it sickeningly only made her want more. Each pounding thrust was angled to mercilessly bring friction at that raw craving inside her. The rapid smack of his balls against her, the slight burn from such a stretch, the intoxicating sounds of his loud, vicious grunts, and the almost too tight pressure of his fingers gripping her throat, fueled her urge to clench around him.

She shuddered, felt the walls of her cunt tighten like a fist, all the while ranting out a long list of venomous nastiness. Claire blamed him for her torment, for the deaths of her friends, for all the darkness in the world. It only made him more animal, dangerously savage as he constrained her and conquered, doing exactly what he threatened to do—jamming himself deeper, filling her to the point it scraped her warring emotions blank—transforming her insides to the point that Claire began sobbing out his name over and over, begging him to stop, begging him to fuck her harder, begging for something she could not name. Her pussy seized in an overburdened release. The knot was shoved deep, she screamed into the floor, and the male roared so loud at her ear it added an edge of fear to her bursting relief, extending Claire’s frenzy and making her squeal.

It was not until his meaty hand on her throat loosened its grip that Claire began to feel the end of her wild, shattering climax. Soothing fluid was pumped so perfectly inside her, her body greedily taking it all while her Alpha whined low in his throat with each extended gush.

He was crushing her, her face mashed into the ground, his panting form seemingly content to continue to hold her trapped. Claire could not move, she could hardly breathe, yet his loud labored gasps were music, pressing calm to replace exercised rage.

She began to hum brokenly between pants. Shepherd stretched, rubbing his sweaty skin against her as he began to purr in praise to her perfect response to his domination.

Knowing to offer comfort after such a savage mating, his weight shifted so he might turn them side by side. Locked deep in his mate, knotted, and supporting the exhausted woman in his arms, Shepherd began to pleasure her gently with his hand—rubbing the labia stretched around his shaft, circling her clitoris, enjoying her twitching with each soft pluck.

Claire did not understand what he was doing, Shepherd never having fingered her in such a way when they were fused. Melting, still so sensitive, she tried to push his hand away, but he hushed her and continued to give soft pleasure that built up into an easy cresting wave of warmth. Still full of him, stretched and possessed by the knot, she gave herself over, drowning in what he offered.

He felt her internal reaction around his girth, the new pull that drank in the last drops of his lingering come, even though he could not climax with her. It was still very pleasing, each ripple and milking compression, the fact he had offered his mate the comfort she needed—something tender after so much necessary savagery.

All of it for her.

When he had drawn out every last ounce of her second orgasm, his hand left her pussy and began to trace the various angles of the exposed side of her face. Ghosting over her cheekbone, her lowered lashes, swirling around the shell of her ear, Shepherd asked, “Did I hurt you, little one?”

All Claire could offer in response was an exhausted, unintelligible whimper.

Shepherd pressed his lips right to her ear and purred richly. “Did I please you?”

A grunt, almost inaudible, came out on her breath.

Shepherd chuckled, relishing the pulse of his knot and the feel of her tight cunt still fluttering, her body speaking for her. “You pleased me, would-be Napoleon.” He stroked her from shoulder to hip. “Your submission was beautiful.”

Petulant, Claire reached down and smacked Shepherd’s bent knee. “I am sure I will be feeling very beautiful later when I see all the bruises.”

The nature of his growl lost all traces of tameness. “You chose the playing field. Had you not fought so savagely, I would not have restrained you while I claimed my prize.”

She wanted to turn over, to look him in the eye, but the knot prevented more than a cursory glance over her shoulder. “Your prize?”

The male’s deep chuckle shook her, Shepherd’s fingers dipping into the top of her dress to pull at her nipples. “All of this is mine. You offered it to me when you began to stroke my body and placed your teeth on my mark. You promised it to me when you called out my name and begged. I gave you pleasure because I am yours. And feeling you come all over my cock, knowing your body takes satisfaction from mine, it is something I love to give you.” Holding her a little tighter, Shepherd growled into the purr, lecherously fondling her breasts. “Confess that I fulfilled what you wanted. There will be no pouting or allegations.”