Chapter 46 Lottie
I shove him back — hard — against the wall. His head cracks against the plaster. He gasps. I don't care. My mouth is on his neck before I even realize what I'm doing — biting, sucking, and licking everywhere it can reach. He arches, his dick jerking against my hip. His hands claw at my ass as he pulls me closer, grinding his hardness into me.
"Fuck," he chokes out. "Lottie—"
I don't let him finish. My fingers fumble with his belt, my own pants already unzipped (don't ask me how), my dick sticking out obscenely, but I couldn't care less about that right now. He helps — yanking his slacks down, kicking them off, his boxers following in a desperate tangle. His dick springs free — an average 5 inches, leaking a bead of clear fluid that glistens under the hall light. My mouth waters. My dick throbs.
"Fuck, Patrick. I can't—." I spin him around. "Bed. Now."
He doesn't argue. He stumbles forward, leading me up the stairs, his ass swaying, his back muscles flexing with every step. I follow, my hand possessive on his lower back, my own dick slapping against my thigh, pre-cum smearing on my pants. The bond between us is a tangible thing — shimmering, humming, pulling us together like magnets.
His bedroom is decorated just as I imagined: with a nice-sized bed and light colors. The air is thick with his scent — grapefruit, honey, mine. I shove him onto the bed. He bounces, sprawling, legs splayed, dick jutting up, hard and needy. I stand there for a moment, taking in his beauty as he lies writhing on the bed.
I start at his neck, dragging my wrist down over his chest before moving to his arms and running my wrist down them all the way to his fingers. I move back to his chest and run my wrist down his stomach, over his straining dick, and down one leg, coming back up and dragging my wrist down the other. Spreading his legs wide, I run my wrist over his slick, wet hole, then I lean in and sniff. He smells like grapefruit dipped in honey mixed with pine and snow. He smells like mine.
I don't waste any more time. I drop to my knees on the side of Professor Hale's bed, yanking him closer to the edge, my fingers trembling with need.
I stare. His ass is pale, round, and perfect. His hole, already glistening with the slick that's flowing out of him, is slightly puckered, as if it's waiting for me—my dick throbs, leaking onto the floorboards.
I don't tease. I don't play. I lay claim.
I push his legs even wider, sliding my fingers through his slick before circling his entrance and pressing in — one finger, then two, until I have three inside him, stretching him, as he clenches around me, his moans sharp and broken.
"Lottie— please—" he begs, voice wrecked.
I don't answer. I lower my head and stick out my tongue until it meets my fingers in his clenching hole. The taste of him bursts over my tongue, sharp and sweet. I groan as I pull my fingers out of his hole and lick up all the slick around his entrance before pressing my tongue inside. He moans brokenly as if what I'm doing is too much. I don't worry about that, though, because he's mine, and he can take whatever I have to give him. I pull back as I feel myself about to cum simply from the taste of him.
He groans, lifting his hips, chasing my mouth. Any other day, and I would have found that funny. But I want him just as much, if not more, so I know how he feels. I lean back down and wrap my lips around his dick, sucking it to the back of my throat.
I groan around his dick, and I feel his thighs jerk as he gasps.
"Ngh, fuck, Lottie, don't stop. Please, don't stop!"
I suck his dick a little harder, my lips creating a vacuum seal around his length as my tongue laves all over his hardness in my mouth.
I slip my fingers back inside him easily as his hole opens up for me. I feel his silky heat wrap tightly around my fingers as they move in and out of him. I feel a soft bump inside him and press on it; Patrick almost levitates off the bed.
I smirk, "Found it." I press my fingers into that fleshy bundle repeatedly, watching as Patrick wiggles, writhes, and jerks in his attempt to get away from the pleasure I'm giving him. I wrap one arm around his thigh and hold him in place as I continue my assault on his prostate. After a few minutes of this, I feel his body tighten, the muscles in his thigh lock beneath my hand, his hole clenches tightly around my fingers before fluttering rapidly as his body arches off the bed and a streak of white shoots from the tip of his dick.
"Aaaahhhhhh!" He almost screams. Then breathlessly, he pushes me back and flips over onto all fours before leaning down, resting his chest against the bed. He reaches back, grabs his asscheeks, and spreads them, the wetness on his hole gleaming in the low light. Presenting for me. My omega. I lick my lips again, wanting to taste him again, but my dick feels like it'll explode if I don't get inside him right now.
I climb onto the bed behind him, wrapping my hands around his waist and adjusting him a little. I align my dick with his hole, and press my forehead against his back, the tingles crackle between us so strongly it feels like there should be sound effects.
"Mine," I growl.
And I push.
He cries out — a raw, beautiful sound — as I sink into him, inch by inch, his heat swallowing me, his muscles clenching around my dick. I bury myself to the hilt, my balls slapping against his ass.
He's tight and wet. So wet and hot. Perfect.
"Oh, fuck, Patrick!"
"Lottie!" He moans as I feel his hole continuously fluttering around my shaft.
I press in and stop moving. I just want to feel — the beat of his heart against my chest, the tremble of his body under mine, the clenching wetness of his hole wrapped around my dick.
Then I pull back — slow, torturous — and slam home.
He screams.
I do it again. And again. Harder. Faster. Deeper. My hips piston, my dick slamming into his ass, the sounds of our union echoing obscenely wet through the room.
His moans turn to sobs, his hands claw at the sheets, his body arches. Hard again, his dick jerks and leaks onto the bedsheets.
I lean down, my mouth finds his neck, my teeth graze his skin.
And then I bite, my teeth breaking skin. I lick the bond mark, tasting his sweet blood on my tongue.
He cums — hard, messy, shouting my name — his ass clenching around my dick, milking me.
I don't last. I thrust once, twice, three times — and then I'm there, my balls draw up, my knot swells to lock us together as my cum floods into him, hot and thick, marking him, claiming him from the inside out.
I collapsed on top of him, my body trembling, my breath ragged, my cock still buried deep, my knot keeping us locked together, our connection still pulsing between us, binding us.
And as I lay there, sweat-slicked and spent, listening to his heartbeat under my ear, I know.
This wasn't just a rut and a heat.
This was inevitable.