Chapter 5 Frat Boy

Brad

"You're perfect," Paul says firmly. "Every inch of you."

He punctuates each word with a kiss, trailing down my neck and chest. By the time he bends down and takes one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking hard, it's hard to worry about anything but the pleasure building inside me.

"Fuck," I grit out through my teeth, trying not to squirm. "You don't know what it's like to work that hard on your body and watch it getting wrecked right before your eyes. You probably came out of the womb with a six pack."

Paul chuckles, the sound sending vibrations through the nipple he's grazing with his teeth. This is a dangerous position to be in with a guy who turns into a toothy monster-and has some pretty fucking sharp fangs even in this form-but it feels too good to want him to stop.

"I don't see anything wrecked," he says, lowering his hands to my stomach once more before he peels my shirt off the rest of the way. His hands immediately settle back on my waist, and his fingertips brush over the lines of abs that aren't nearly as defined as they were the last time he was groping them. "Just proof you're carrying my baby. Or babies. Which is absurdly hot to an alpha, by the way."

Guess I can file that bit of information in my Werewolf Facts collection.

That other part hits me out of nowhere, though, and I almost get emotional whiplash.

"Wait, did you say babies? Plural?" I blurt out.

"It's possible," Paul says, blinking innocently at me. "Triplets run in my family. And yours."

"Triplets? Oh, don't fucking start," I grumble, the thought of carrying not just one, but two babies making me blanch.

But before I can let my brain spiral down a rabbit hole of panic, Paul distracts me by leaning in and kissing me again.

His lips are warm and insistent, and I quickly give in to the moment, letting the worry fade into the background. Our mouths move together as Paul walks us backward toward the bed, stripping off my clothes along the way until I'm naked.

When the backs of my knees hit the edge of the mattress, Paul gives me a little push so I fall onto the bed. I bounce on the softness for a second before Raul is crawling over me, caging me in with his arms.

So eager," he murmurs, lowering his head to nip at my neck. Heat flushes over my skin at the sensation, and I can't hold back a gasp. "Just like when you were in heat."

"Shut up," I mutter, tilting my head to give him better access. He takes advantage, peppering kisses and bites down to my collarbone.

His hands slide down to pinch at my nipples, and I squirm beneath him, a jolt of pleasure-pain shooting through me. Paul chuckles, rolling one nipple between his fingers. "So sensitive here," he says. "Even more than last time."

I try to glare at him, but it probably comes across as more of a desperate look. "Just get on with it already."

"Patience," Paul chides, but he listens, sliding one hand down between us. I suck in a sharp breath as he circles my entrance, and I realize I'm already wet for him.

"Oh, fuck, that happens here, too?" I groan, turning my face into the pillow.

"You're still very much an omega," he informs me. Before I can protest further, Paul slides two huge fingers into me. I gasp at the stretch, hips bucking to take him deeper.

"That's it," Paul murmurs. He crooks his fingers, searching, and brushes over a spot that sends sparks through my body.

"Fuck!" I cry out, back arching. Paul presses firmly on my prostate, rubbing in slow circles that drive me out of my mind.

My cock is hard and leaking between us, and I'm close already. Just from him touching me a little bit. "Paul," I pant, "please, I need more."

Paul kisses me, deep and claiming. "I've got you," he growls softly against my lips. He slides his fingers from me, and I moan at the loss until I feel the blunt head of his cock pressing into me.

I gasp into the kiss, clutching at his shoulders. Raul pushes in slowly, stretching me open around his thick length. It burns, but in the best possible way, lighting me up from the inside out.

All it takes is him pushing in a couple of inches-and I know he has plenty more where that came from-to make me feel like I'm gonna split in half like a damn log.

I break the kiss with a gasp. "Too much," I grit out. "You're too big."

Paul stills immediately. His eyes search my face, concerned. "Do you need me to stop?"

I shake my head quickly. The stretch burns, but I don't want him to leave me empty again. "Just... go slow. Let me get used to it."

"Of course." Paul kisses my forehead, my cheeks, the corner of my mouth. "We'll go as slow as you need."

He pushes in another inch, and I moan at the delicious ache of it. Paul murmurs encouragement against my skin, his hands stroking over my sides in a soothing rhythm.

"Fuck, I think you got even bigger," I mutter. "Shit, your cock is like a fucking machine." I whisper lowly.

A what now?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow.

"Nothing," I say with a sigh, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer. I put my focus on trying to relax, which is easier said than done with half a damn tree trunk inside my ass.

Gradually, the pain fades into pleasure as my body accepts his girth. Groaning, I roll my hips, taking him deeper.

"There you go," Paul says. "You're doing so well for me."

I flush at the praise, clenching around his cock. Paul hisses, hips jerking forward to bury himself completely in my ass.

We both go still, panting harshly. Being filled by him is always an experience, to put it lightly, but the fact that he's actually here right now, on top of me in my world, is even more surreal.

"More," I gasp out, clutching at his shoulders. "Please, Paul, I need-"

He pulls back and thrusts in again, setting up a brutal pace that has me seeing stars. The headboard bangs against the wall with the force of his thrusts, but I can't bring myself to care. At least we're in the basement, where the others can't hear anything.

Hopefully.

All that matters is the slide of his cock in and out of me, the feel of his lips and teeth on my neck, the stretch and burn of being filled so completely.

"You feel so good," Paul groans against my skin. His nails dig into my hips, his angle shifting to hit that spot inside me that makes me see stars. "So tight and perfect for your alpha, Brad. You were made for this."

He's got that deep, growly voice that makes me want to purr in response to words that would usually make me want to deck someone. Anyone but him.

Hell, sometimes him, too, but we're having a moment here and I worked hard enough for this that I'm gonna enjoy it.

"Harder," I growl, digging my nails into his back. Guess I'm fully in omega mode here, too. That doesn't bother me nearly as much as it should. "I didn't cross dimensions for some half-assed shit. I want your knot, the whole fucking shebang."

"The whole shebang, huh?" he asks, amusement dancing in his eyes as he looks down at me even though his voice is still husky and strained with the same desire I have a hard time reining in. "Are you sure about that? We still haven't gone all the way yet."

"What do you mean?" I ask, repositioning my hips beneath him. It hurts now, but it'll make taking his knot easier in a second, and I can already feel it swelling at the base, stretching my hole open even wider.

The slick from my arousal isn't enough to keep the sharp pain at bay, but the promise of the pleasure and release that comes from his knot filling me up is worth it.

And whether I want to admit it or not, he's right about one thing-my body is clearly primed to respond to his. To crave everything he has to offer.

"You've stuffed a fucking softball inside my ass. If that ain't home base, what the hell is?"

"I haven't marked you yet," he answers.

"Oh, yeah," I say, remembering he mentioned something about that a while back. I was too high on post-sex dopamine to put that much thought into it at the time, though. "How do you do that, exactly?"

"I have to bite you," he says, trailing his fingers down the side of my throat to the spot where the back of my neck meets my shoulder. It's become an erogenous zone, judging from the way that simple touch makes me shiver and squirm. My ass throbs around his stiff cock as I'm punished for the movement. "Right here. Then you'll bear my mark and everyone will know you're mine. Forever."

"Sounds permanent," I say.

"Very," he answers, approval glowing in his eyes as if the mere thought of marking my flesh turns him on.

And that turns me on more than I want to admit.

"You know how hard it is to get through all this time in a frat without getting inked?" I challenge. "You know how many times I came this close to ending up with my exes face on my ass if I'd lost a bet?"

"Consider me infinitely grateful for your good luck," Paul says dryly. "And I do hope you're talking about a tattoo."

I roll my eyes. "What happens if you do mark me?"

I'm tempted to let him, just so we can get on with the whole knotting thing, before my common sense outpaces my libido.

"Well, for one thing, if we were separated again, it would be easier to find you," he answers. "And there wouldn't be the risk of me going feral.

"In that case, sign me up," I say. The truth is, I was already on board even when I thought the only perk was being marked by him.

We're already bonded.

These weeks of separation have made that painfully, excruciatingly clear, and if there's anything that will lower the chances of losing him again, I'm good with it.

Even if it does mean sporting a brand new neck tat.

"Alright, then," Paul says, lowering his head to brush his lips against my throat. His chest falls against mine, and he gives a low, rumbling growl that spreads through me like wildfire. "We're going to need to readjust."

Before I can object, he pulls away from me, leaving me feeling empty and a cool air inside the gaping asshole where his cock was. I am on my stomach when Paul puts his hand on my lower abdomen and pulls me until my knees are under me and my ass is in the air. I instantly become enraged and attracted to how easily he can control someone as large as me like I am a fucking doll, so I straighten myself up so I am at least on my hands and knees.

"You're already mine," he murmurs against my skin, pressing a kiss to the spot between my shoulder and the back of my neck. Just having his lips brush that spot makes a violent shiver run down my spine and my hole throbs with a fresh need for him to fill it. "But I want the whole world to know it."

"Just put it in already," I grit out, digging my fingers into the blanket in preparation. Really starting to wish the Mass logo wasn't plastered all over this thing, but I'm too keyed up for even that to put a damper on my arousal.

I don't need to see Paul's face to know he's smirking as he lines his monster cock up at my entrance, pushing between my cheeks.

"Good boy," he purrs, which seems to be the werewolf version of dirty talk.

I hate the way my cock throbs in response to it.

All at once, he pushes into me right back to where he was, the base of his knot pushing against my already stretched hole. It's possible for him to go in all at once, since he was fucking me so recently that I still haven't fully closed, but far from easy.

I give a startled cry he muffles by covering my mouth with his hand, and I'm grateful, even if I'm also tempted to bite down on his fingers for not giving me any warning.

When I feel him press into my prostate, though, all is forgiven and I start squirming beneath him for more like I really am in heat.

I wish I had that as an excuse.

Paul wraps one arm around my waist, pulling my ass right up against him as he presses the tip of his knot against me more insistently. As much as I want it, the tight ring of muscle clenches in protest.

"Relax," Paul whispers into my ear, his warm breath making me shiver. His long hair teases my biceps as it falls around me from behind, tickling my sensitive, heated skin. I try to do as he says, focusing on the sensation of his strong arms around me rather than the impossible stretch of his knot breaching me.

I can tell he's pushing in, trying to fill me and be gentle at the same time, but I'm starting to think I'm too tight to take it at all when his tongue runs up along the spot on my neck he intends to mark, and the pleasure that thrums through me has the effect of relaxing me just enough that it slips in all at once.

I give another cry of pain and pleasure that's only partially muffled by his hand, and this time, I do bite down on him, not out of spite but instinct. I taste blood, but Paul doesn't react. He just pushes his knot into me until I feel my ass seal around it, locking us together, and then he starts to move.

It's slow at first, gentle rocking motions that make me moan and pant into his palm. He keeps that arm banded around my chest, holding me close, while his free hand travels down to grip my aching cock. I'm so hard it hurts, pre-cum leaking from the tip to coat his fingers as he starts to stroke me in time with his thrusts.

The stretch and burn of his knot is fading into a dull ache, and the pleasure is starting to outweigh it. I rock my hips back to meet his, urging him deeper, harder, faster. Paul growls against my neck but obliges, snapping his hips forward in a punishing rhythm that has me seeing stars.

His hand leaves my cock to grip my hip instead, holding me in place as he pounds into me and takes his other hand off my mouth so he can grip the headboard. It still slams against the wall with the force of his thrusts, but he's got enough of a hold to keep it from going through the drywall.

Probably.

Those are all thoughts somewhere in the back of my mind, though. The most prominent feeling is the feel of his lips again at the bend of my neck, caressing the sensitive skin with calming licks and light nibbles.

When the excitement becomes unbearable and I think I am going to pass out from wanting something so badly, I whimper, "Paul. Please."

"Please what, love?" His voice is teasing and low, rumbling against my skin as he continues to drive into me at a relentless pace.

I can feel the pressure building inside me, but he's deliberately avoiding touching my cock again. We both know that's going to push me over the edge.

"Please... mark me," I beg, my hips bucking against his as I desperately chase my release. "Make me yours."

I feel him shudder on top of me, as if that's exactly what he's been waiting to hear. With a growl, he sinks his teeth into the spot he's been teasing. The sharp pain of the bite mixes with the blinding bliss flooding my senses, and I come with a shout that's probably loud enough to wake the neighbors, let alone everyone in the frat house.

I'm never going to live this down.

But who fucking cares?

Paul continues to pound into me through it, chasing his own pleasure now. I'm still riding the waves of my orgasm when Paul stiffens above me, hips stuttering as he finds his own release. There's a surge of warmth as he comes inside me, and the base, primal part of my brain thrills at the sensation.

His.

Marked.

Claimed.

Those words seem to write themselves in my soul, painted with the come he spills inside me.

Paul collapses on top of me, both of us panting for breath. I reach back and run my fingers through his long, dark hair, scratching lightly at his scalp the way he likes.

"I fucking missed you," Paul murmurs against my neck, his breath hot on my skin. He laps at the blood still trickling from my neck. "But I'm never letting you go again."

When I first found myself in his world, that would have sounded like a threat, but at this point, it's a promise I'm more than eager for him to keep.

I'm not sure when the after-orgasm bliss of being wrapped up in Paul's arms turns into sleep, or when his knot finally goes down enough for him to ease out of me, but I'm too spent to even wake up for more than a few seconds.