Page 55 of The Florist and Her Alphas

I can’t believe anyone treated her badly. Can’t believe anyone looked at this woman and thought she was something to break. The rage feeds into my thrusts, makes them harder, deeper, my hips pistoning against her ass until the water is churning around us.

“Who do you belong to?” I demand, my voice rough.

“You,” she gasps.

“What am I to you?”

“My…my alpha.”

“What do you want from me, baby girl?” I growl, pounding harder now.

“Your knot.”

My hand leaves her hair, finds her hip instead, and I grip hard enough to bruise. My other hand reaches around, finds her clit, and rubs it in rough, frantic circles as I fuck her. Her pussy clenches around my cock, her inner walls gripping me so tight it’s almost painful, and I feel the orgasm building at the base of my spine—hot, relentless, climbing fast.

“Coming,” she sobs, her body going rigid, her pussy clamping down on my cock like a vise. “Oh god!”

The feeling of her pussy pulsing around me, milking my cock, tips me over the edge.

I roar as I cum, spurting inside her in thick, hot pulses that feel endless. My cock swells, my knot expanding, stretching her entrance wider as it locks us together, and I keep thrusting through it, grinding my hips against her ass, pumping every last drop of cum into her hungry, clenching pussy.

She collapses forward, her forehead resting on the edge of the tub, her ass still pressed against my knot, and I follow her down, bracing my hands on either side of her, my chest against her back, my mouth against the nape of her neck.

We breathe. Together. The water stills around us, gone lukewarm, and my knot holds us locked, my cock buried deep inside her, cum leaking around the seal where we’re joined.

“You okay?” I murmur against her skin.

She nods, her hair dripping, her body trembling with aftershocks. “More than okay.”

I press my lips to the scar at her temple and hold her there, in the cooling water, my knot swelling inside her, and for the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel something close to peace, and I don’t want her to ever leave me.

Fourteen

LIANA

Cole’s cock finally slips out of my pussy with a soft, wet sound that makes my cheeks burn even though we’ve just done things that should have burned away every last shred of modesty I own.

The water around us has gone lukewarm, cooling my overheated skin, but the ache in my belly is already building again, low and hollow.

His cum leaks out of me, clouding the water between my thighs, and I immediately feel empty without his knot.

My pussy is clenching on nothing.

It’s always hungry and throbbing, slick still seeping from me in slow, warm pulses. Thirty minutes in this tub, locked on his knot, and already my body wants more. The heat doesn’t give a shit about me being tired.

Cole’s arms are still around me, his chest pressed warm against my back, his heartbeat steady against my spine. His hand finds my wet hair, fingers combing through the strands with a gentleness that makes my throat tight.

“I can feel your heat building again,” he says, his palm sliding down from my hair, over my shoulder, and settling low on my belly where the cramp is already turning from dull to sharp. “Right here, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

His hand is warm and heavy, and for a moment the pressure of it eases the ache. But it’s temporary. I know what’s coming. The heat doesn’t stop. It cycles, builds, peaks, crashes, and builds again until it’s run its course or until an alpha’s knot plugs me full of cum and stretches me.

Cole’s finger dips between my thighs under the water. I let out a hiss.

“Sore?”

“A little,” I admit. His cock is thick, and my pussy has been stretched around three knots in the span of a few hours. Everything down there is swollen, tender, hypersensitive.