Chapter Three "Locked and Claimed"

He didn’t wait for me to beg.

One hard thrust and he buried half his cock inside me. The stretch burned. My back arched off the bed. A broken sound tore out of my throat. He was thick—thicker than anything I’d taken—and he didn’t give me time to adjust. Another shove and he sank deeper, forcing my walls open around the heavy length of him.

“Fuck—” The word left me raw.

He braced both hands on either side of my head and drove the rest of the way in until his hips slapped against mine. Full. Stretched. So full it hurt in a way that made my toes curl. I felt every ridge, every pulse of him deep inside. The mate bond flared hot under my skin, flooding my body with unwanted heat. My walls clenched around him without permission.

He stayed buried for one long second, breathing hard against my cheek.

“There it is,” he muttered. “Taking me like you were made for it.”

Then he moved.

Hard. Deep. No rhythm yet—just raw possession. Each thrust shoved me up the mattress. The headboard knocked against the wall. Wet sounds filled the room every time he pulled back and slammed home again. My breasts bounced with the force. My nipples scraped his chest. The burn between my legs turned into something sharper, hotter, something that made my hips lift to meet him even while my mind screamed no.

I dug my nails into his shoulders. He only fucked me harder for it.

“Look at me.”

I kept my eyes closed. His hand locked around my throat and squeezed just enough to force them open. Gold stared down at me—bright, hungry, completely without mercy.

“I want you watching when I mark you.”

He shifted the angle. The next thrust dragged across that swollen spot inside me and white heat exploded behind my eyes. A moan ripped out of me. My legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, heels digging into the hard muscle of his ass, pulling him deeper.

He laughed, low and rough.

“There she is. Body already knows who owns it.”

His pace turned brutal. The wet slap of skin on skin grew louder. Sweat slicked both of us. His scent—leather, smoke, pure alpha musk—poured into my lungs with every gasp. My own arousal mixed with it until the whole bed smelled like sex and claiming. I was dripping around him, the sheets under my ass already soaked.

He dropped his mouth to my neck.

Open. Hot. Teeth scraping the tender skin right over my pulse. The threat of the mark made my cunt clench so hard he groaned against my throat.

“Do it,” I heard myself whisper. Hated the sound. Hated how broken it came out.

He didn’t answer with words.

His hips snapped forward once—deep, punishing—and his teeth sank into the side of my neck.

Pain and pleasure slammed together so hard my vision went white. The bond locked. Something inside my chest tore open and flooded with him—his hunger, his possession, the dark satisfaction of finally having his mate under him and full of his cock. My body seized. An orgasm ripped through me without warning, violent and shaking. My walls fluttered and milked him while I cried out against his shoulder.

He kept fucking me through it. Harder. Deeper. The wet sounds turned filthy. Every thrust forced more of my release down the insides of my thighs.

“That’s it,” he growled against the bleeding mark. “Come on your alpha’s cock. Let the whole fucking pack hear who you belong to.”

Blood trickled warm down my neck. He licked it, slow and deliberate, then bit again—harder this time—right over the same spot. The second wave of the mark burned hotter. My second climax crashed into the first. I shook under him, helpless, cunt gripping him so tight he had to force every stroke.

He rose up on his knees, hooked both hands under my thighs, and folded me nearly in half. The new angle let him drive even deeper. The head of his cock punched against my cervix with every thrust. Pain and pleasure tangled until I couldn’t tell them apart. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes. My mouth stayed open on broken moans I couldn’t stop.

“Take it,” he ordered. “Every fucking inch.”

I did. My body had no choice. The bond made sure of it. Every time he bottomed out, another pulse of unwanted heat rolled through my stomach. My clit throbbed, neglected and swollen. He noticed. One hand left my thigh, found the aching bud, and rubbed rough circles in time with his thrusts.

“Come again.”

“I can’t—”

“You will.”

The dual sensation—cock stretching me open, fingers working my clit—shoved me over the edge a third time. My scream tore through the room. My back bowed. My nails raked down his chest hard enough to leave red lines. He snarled approval and fucked me through the aftershocks like he was trying to crawl inside my skin.

Sweat dripped from his jaw onto my breasts. His eyes never left mine. The gold in them burned brighter with every brutal stroke.

He leaned down again, mouth finding the fresh mark. He sucked hard on the broken skin, sending another jolt of pain-pleasure straight to my core. My walls fluttered around him once more.

“Almost,” he muttered against my throat. “Almost ready to take my knot.”

The base of his cock was already swelling. I felt the extra stretch with every inward thrust. Panic and hunger twisted together in my gut. I tried to push at his chest. He caught both wrists, pinned them above my head with one hand, and kept driving into me with the other braced beside my face.

“Don’t fight it now. You’re going to lock on me whether you want it or not.”

The swelling grew thicker. The stretch turned sharp. My breath came in short, panicked gasps. He was so deep I could feel him in my stomach. The wet slap of our bodies grew louder, filthier. My own slick coated his cock and the insides of my thighs, shiny in the firelight.

He released my wrists only long enough to shove two fingers into my mouth.

“Suck.”

I did. Tasted myself on his skin. He groaned and thrust harder, using the leverage to bury himself to the root again and again. The growing knot caught on my entrance with every pull-back, stretching me wider, promising the lock that would keep him inside me for as long as he wanted.

His teeth found the mark a third time.

He bit down just as the thickest part of the knot forced past my entrance.

Pain exploded. Pleasure followed so fast it blacked out the edges of my vision. My body clamped down hard around the sudden, impossible stretch. A scream ripped from my throat—half agony, half something darker. The knot swelled fully inside me, locking us together. His cock pulsed deep, and the first hot spurt of his release flooded me.

He kept rocking through it, short, brutal movements that ground the knot against every sensitive place inside me. More heat poured into me with every pulse. I felt it. Thick. Claiming. My own orgasm crashed over me again, weaker this time but still shaking, still forcing my walls to milk every drop from him.

His mouth stayed locked on my neck.

Blood and saliva mixed on my skin.

The bond roared between us—complete, inescapable, burning.

He lifted his head just enough to look down at me. Gold eyes. Mouth wet with my blood. Cock still buried and locked deep inside my cunt, flooding me with more of his release.

“Mine,” he said, voice raw. “For good.”

Then he rolled his hips once more, grinding the knot against that swollen spot, and the next wave of forced pleasure started to build whether I wanted it or not—