APEX - Season 2

Ch. 25: No Matter What

Rhys

Not enough beer existed in the world for me to forget that time was beginning to tick away. Every minute, every hour that passed was one less than I had to figure out how to stop Aamon from becoming my mate's mate. I tipped the pint glass back, finished and ordered a third beer.

Tobias was late. Normally, I wouldn't mind. Hell, normally, I was the one running behind. But today, I'd escaped my Calla-less office at work an hour earlier than I'd planned, hoping a conversation with Tobias would ease my mind. And that would be the day he ended up stuck in traffic.

As I waited, I thought about the only thing that could possibly occupy my mind for more than five seconds: sex. Sex with Calla, to be specific.

Last night had been memorable, to say the least. Daydreaming, I put myself through the pleasant paces of recalling the feel of Calla's mouth around my cock. Looking down at her as she worked me over had given me a rush of dominance that was hard to top. I was her Alpha—I felt that deep in my bones, and that certainty had made my climax that much more enjoyable.

But that was far from the end of our session. Blowing me had left Calla in a frantic state of heightened arousal. I could feel it through our connection and smell it emanating from her, as though her skin was made of cherry blossoms, and her pussy oozed thick, sticky honey.

How could I not want to consume that and be consumed by it all at the same time?

I walked her into her bedroom and laid her on her bed. She seemed surprised by how hard I was after just orgasming.

"It's simple. I wanted your mouth, now I want your pussy." And it was true. Maybe it was her desire flooding into my neural pathways, intermixing with my own so I could no longer tell whose was whose. Maybe it was our connection as true mates. Whatever the case, I wanted her as though we'd been apart for a year. I wanted her as though I'd wanted her my whole life and had only now been granted access.

I wanted her as though this might be the last time I could have her.

That last one hurt to think about, and so I pushed it away, sticking to the much happier and tantalizing fantasy of feeling like I'd finally—finally—found my true mate. And now, I'd be able to have what was mine, and she'd have the same—she'd get what she was yearning for, what she was dripping sweet honey from her pussy for, what she wanted more than breath itself.

When I entered her, the stars all aligned. We fit together so perfectly, knew how to move and angle, when to change positions. We'd had this from the beginning—the properties of a perfect match, mates destined to come together to live and lead and engage in these intimacies—and we hadn't realized it until now.

I could feel her pleasure and she could feel mine—our psychic connection saw to that. But the sounds we were making were more akin to the wild animals we became once a month than to two psychically attuned rational beings. The physicality of our act made us go deep into our primal selves, where inhibitions were shattered, and we said whatever fed our ravenous sexual frenzy.

"Fuck! My God, Rhys."

"Don't call me by my name," I said as I grinded hard against her. "Call me what I am."

"My Alpha," she screamed. "Your cock is so fucking huge."

"Tell me how much you want it."

"More than anything, Alpha. I don't just want it, I need it. I need this."

"You need what, Luna?"

"I need...to be your cock slut."

"Is that what you want to be for me? My little Luna cock slut?"