Dax’s mouth claimed him with the force of a storm breaking, heat and hunger poured into the kiss until Chris’s lungs forgot how to work. His back hit the pillows, the sheer weight of the alpha pressing down, caging him in completely.
Chris gasped, the sound swallowed, his fingers curling harder into Dax’s hair, pulling the man closer. His body burned under the wash of pheromones, slick heat coiling low in his gut, every nerve alight.
Dax’s hand slid down his thigh, gripping firmly enough to anchor, dragging his leg aside until he could fit his hips flush against him. Chris broke the kiss with a shuddering breath, his black eyes blown wide, heat trembling through his voice.
"You don’t..." His words fractured as Dax ground against him. "...Waste time, do you?"
"Not with you, my moon," Dax growled, his voice a rumble against Chris’s throat. He mouthed over the line of his throat, pressing enough to make Chris shiver, his body arching helplessly.
Chris’s pride tried to rally, his smirk flashing weak and breathless. "And here I thought kings were supposed to be patient."
"Not with you," Dax murmured, his hand sliding under the hem of Chris’s shirt, hot against his skin.
Chris’s breath hitched, his thighs tightening instinctively around the alpha’s hips even as his mouth tried to stay sharp. "God, you’re..." He broke off with a hiss when Dax’s teeth scraped lightly at his jaw. "...insufferable."
Dax’s violet eyes glowed faintly in the lamplight, heavy with heat and focus, his voice a dark vow.
"And yours."
Chris’s heart slammed against his ribs, the defiance breaking on a gasp as Dax’s hands moved on Chris’s hips, flipping him onto his stomach with an effortless strength that stole Chris’s breath. The cool sheets were a shock against his fevered skin. Before he could even think to push up, Dax’s weight settled over him, not crushing, but owning. A knee nudged his legs apart.
"Dax..." Chris gasped, his voice muffled by the pillow.
A low growl was his only answer. Dax’s hands ran down the length of Chris’s spine, a possessive stroke that made him shiver, before settling on his ass. The touch was rough, assessing, kneading the muscle, and spreading him. Chris buried his face, a hot wave of embarrassment washing through him, followed immediately by a spike of desperate need so sharp it became pain.
He felt Dax shift, then the warm, wet slide of his tongue.
The world dissolved into sensation, into the rough, wet heat of Dax’s tongue stroking over him. Chris cried out, the sound torn from his throat and smothered by the pillow. His fingers twisted in the sheets, knuckles white.
"Easy," Dax murmured, the word a low vibration against Chris’s spine. His palm dragged down over the curve of Chris’s ass. "Let your body open. It knows what it wants."
"Shut up," Chris muttered into the pillow, weak, ruined, and not convincing in the slightest.
Dax chuckled softly, and the sound alone sent a shiver curling through Chris’s stomach. One hand slid beneath his shirt and up, fingers spanning Chris’s ribs from underneath as he pulled him up just enough to fit closer, chest to back, heat to heat. Chris gasped, head falling on the alpha’s chest as Dax’s breath brushed his ear.
"You shake when I touch you," Dax whispered, teeth grazing but not quite biting. "You’re already so far gone."
Chris would have argued if he could think. If he could breathe. If his hips weren’t moving again, rogue and desperate, seeking friction against nothing but air and fever.
"Dax..." His voice broke as the alpha’s hands tightened on his hips and chest.
A second later, Dax’s hands were on his shoulders, pushing him deeper into the mattress. One large palm slid up the back of Chris’s neck, his fingers threading into the soft hair at his nape. Chris froze, his breath catching.
Dax’s touch found the intricate clasp of the diamond collar. Chris felt the alpha dip his head and felt the warm puff of breath against his mark. Then, Dax released a concentrated pulse of his pheromones, spiced rum and dark, possessive musk.
The clasp gave way with a soft, definitive click.
The collar loosened.
In that same second, Dax’s hand flattened against the back of Chris’s head, shoving his face firmly into the pillows. The other hand kept his hips pinned. Chris was trapped, the bonding mark at the nape of his neck lay bare.
A low, possessive rumble echoed through Dax’s chest. "Mine."
His mouth was on the mark, not with the teasing licks from before, but with a hard, open-mouthed kiss, his tongue tracing the scarred pattern. Chris screamed into the pillow, his body convulsing. The sensation overwhelmed his brain, leaving only raw heat behind.
Dax didn’t let up. He lapped at the mark, teeth scraping gently, then harder, until Chris was a writhing, sobbing mess beneath him. The alpha’s free hand smoothed down the length of Chris’s spine before returning to grip his hip hard.
Chris felt the blunt, thick head of Dax’s cock press against him. He was soaked and ready, his body begging for it. But Dax didn’t move. He just held there, applying relentless pressure.
Chris’s hips tilted back of their own volition, a silent, begging offering. Dax’s grip on his head and hip was unyielding, a cage of muscle and bone that held him completely immobile. He was at the alpha’s mercy, and the sheer helplessness of it sent a fresh wave of slick gushing from him, coating the head of Dax’s cock where it rested against his entrance.
"Please," Chris sobbed, the word muffled against the pillow. "Dax, please..."
A low chuckle was his only answer, a dark, triumphant sound that vibrated through Chris’s back. Dax’s hold on his head tightened, shoving his face deeper into the soft fabric, just shy of cutting off his air.
Then, Dax pushed.
The breach was a searing, breathtaking burn. Chris cried out, his body bowing as the thick length forced its way inside, inch by relentless inch. There was no time to adjust, no moment to catch his breath. Dax’s hips drove forward, sinking his cock deep until he was buried to the hilt, his heavy balls flush against Chris’s ass. The feeling was overwhelming, a divine agony of being stretched so wide, so full, his inner walls clutching desperately at the invader.
"Dax," Chris gasped, his voice a ragged whisper. "God, Dax..."
The alpha responded with a guttural groan that conveyed pure, unadulterated satisfaction. He held himself there for a moment, letting Chris feel every throbbing inch of him. Then, he began to move.
He pulled out almost completely, leaving Chris feeling achingly empty, only to slam back in with a force that stole the air from his lungs. The bedframe groaned in protest. Chris was shoved forward, his face buried deeper into the pillows as Dax set a punishing, brutal rhythm. Each thrust was a powerful, deep-staking claim, hitting that spot inside him that made stars explode behind his eyes. The room filled with the sounds of their bodies meeting, the sharp slap of skin on skin, Chris’s desperate cries, and Dax’s low, primal moans of pleasure.
Dax’s grip on Chris’s hips was bruising, his fingers digging into the flesh as he used the leverage to fuck into him harder, deeper. The angle changed, and Chris screamed as the thick head of Dax’s cock hammered directly against his prostate. Pleasure, white-hot and blinding, seized him, wiping out all thought. He was nothing but a vessel for the alpha’s pleasure, a body to be used, to be taken, to be owned.
Dax bent his head, and his teeth sank into the flesh over Chris’s bonding mark. It wasn’t a gentle nip; it was a hard, possessive bite, a reinforcement of the bond that sent a jolt straight to Chris’s cock. The dual sensations of the brutal fucking and the claiming bite were his undoing. With a shattered cry, Chris came, his body convulsing as his release spilled hot and thick onto the sheets beneath him. His inner walls clenched rhythmically around Dax’s cock, milking him, pulling him deeper.
Dax roared, the sound a triumphant blast as he drove into Chris one last, brutal time. His cock pulsed, and a wave of searing heat flooded Chris’s insides as the alpha found his own release, his knot swelling and locking them together. He collapsed over Chris’s back, his weight a welcome, grounding pressure, his chest heaving against him. They were locked together, bound by flesh and bite, a messy, sweaty, sated tangle of limbs and pheromones. Chris could do nothing but lie there and tremble, utterly and completely claimed.