Alpha's Big Cock

The Sunder Pack never truly sleeps. Even at this hour the territory hums with the low pulse of wolves moving through the dark, but inside the Alpha house the only sound is the soft creak of the bed frame and the heavy breathing of the man who stole everything from me.

I press my eye to the small hole I had cut in the window door three months ago and the master bedroom opens up in front of me. Alpha Cassian my stepfather stands at the foot of the bed, shirt already gone.

 The lamp light slides across the hard planes of his chest and the thick muscle of his shoulders. He is bigger than my father ever was, broader, denser, the kind of body that looks like it was built to claim and keep. My mother kneels on the mattress in her thin nightgown, hands folded in her lap the way she always does when she is about to refuse him.

“Come here,” he says to mum. His voice is low and already rough with need.

She crawls forward. Then he took her wrist and placed her palm against the front of his sleep pants. Even from the hallway I can see how hard he is, the heavy ridge of him pushing up against the thin fabric. She strokes him once, twice, then her hand falls away.

“I can’t,” she whispers. “Cassisn you know you always last longer than necessary and I can't take it not tonight.”

His jaw locks. He didn't raise his voice. He never does when the hunger is this close to the surface. His Alpha scent spikes instead, dark and thick and full of frustrated lust, and it hits me through the wall. My omega body answers before I can stop it. Heat floods low in my belly. My thighs press together hard. The bond that should have belonged to a true mate flares uselessly toward the wrong man, and I hate how fast it happens.

He releases her wrist and turns away, both hands braced on the dresser, breathing like he has been running. The muscles in his back flex and roll under the skin. I watch every single one of them. He took his hand inside his cock stroking it. 

I stay perfectly still, but my own body is already moving without permission. My fingers slide under the waistband of my shorts. I am wet just from the scent of him and the sight of that thick length straining against the fabric. The second I touch myself a soft sound almost escapes. I bite it back and keep my eye glued to the hole.

In my head the scene changes. In my fantasy he turns and sees me watching him then he crosses the room in three long strides, drags me inside, and shoves me face-first against the wall my mother is still staring at.

 I can almost feel the heat of his bare chest against my back, the heavy weight of his cock rubbing between my thighs while she sits frozen only a few feet away. 

He isn't gentle because Alphas are never when they have been denied too long. He would push my nightgown up, drag my shorts down, and sink into me in one hard thrust, filling me so deep the stretch would burn. I would be dripping for him already. Omegas always are when an Alpha’s need is this sharp. The bond would flare white-hot and I would come around him before he even started moving, shame and pleasure tangled so tight I could not tell them apart.

The fantasy darkens and heats. I picture him pulling out just long enough to turn me around and put me on my back on the same bed my mother is kneeling on. I picture those dual-colored eyes locked on mine while he drives back in, one blue, one gold, colder and hungrier than his son’s will ever be. His hands would bruise my hips.

 His mouth would find the side of my throat where a claim mark should go. Every thrust would remind me that I am an omega and he is the Alpha who took my father’s place, and the wrongness of it would only make me wetter.

I rub faster, circling the swollen spot that makes my legs shake. Inside the room Cassian is still fighting himself, still trying to stay in control and holding my moans. I match the rhythm of his breathing and chase the edge until it snaps. The orgasm hits hard and silent. My body locks against the wall, forehead pressed to the wood, while the wave rolls through me and leaves me shaking and empty and dripping down my legs.

I pull my hand free and wipe it on the inside of my shirt. The hallway feels colder now. I wait until I hear the shower start, then I slip back to my own room and close the door without a sound. My heart is still racing. My skin feels too tight. I lie down on the narrow bed and stare at the ceiling, replaying every second of what I just watched and every filthy thing I imagined.

He wants it but she refuses. Which left him aching and restless, and for those few minutes the perfect Alpha mask cracks wide open. That crack is the only place I can reach him. 

I close my eyes and the fantasy starts again the moment the dark takes me. This time he does not walk away. This time he finds me in the hallway and the night ends with my back against the wall and his mouth on my neck and the thick, hard proof of how badly he needs it buried deep inside me while my mother sleeps ten feet away. The thought alone is enough to make me wet all over again.

I roll onto my side and press my thighs together, chasing the last of the feeling. Outside the window the pack territory is quiet. Inside my head the only sound is the rough edge of his voice saying my name like a command.