Alpha Liberation: A Bear Shifter Mpreg Romance (Feral Passions Book 1)

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Alpha Liberation: A Bear Shifter Mpreg Romance (Feral Passions Book 1) Page 5

by Preston Walker

Alexander felt trapped, in the very best of ways; devoid of a refuge from the pleasure as it came at him from all directions.

  Any difficulty he'd had accepting Chris into him in those first moments had all but vanished now. It had given way completely to the delirious pressure and friction of entry and extrication, the repetitive pushing and pulling of flesh into flesh, body into body, connection and separation without any conceivable end. It came into him so hard, so deep, and made him feel so incredible inside, like something crucial was being filled deep down that had been left unaddressed his entire life—and in more ways than one.

  “Oh, God...Yes...Yes...Harder,” he begged, as Chris slammed it into him, his muscles heaving against his body, his fist slamming against his loins as he jacked him off in tandem with his thrusts. The bed creaked beneath their weight, and Alexander's head spun, and any reservations he might once have had about right and wrong shimmied out the window, swept up as they now were by the sweet, dizzying force of such unspeakable pleasure.

  “Harder! Harder!” he kept on begging, wanting it more and more desperately than he'd originally imagined he ever could, even more than he'd originally thought he'd be able to stand it.

  Before long, Chris was obliging him, flipping him over on the bed onto his hands and knees, and mounting him from behind like the animal he was. His legs wrapped around him, he shoved himself in without a pretense of the gentility he'd shown before, his bestial nature on full display after the considerate ease of their initial union. He roared as he slammed down inside Alexander's body, and Alexander screamed with pleasure.

  The vigorous thrusting resumed without skipping a beat, moving even harder than before, even deeper, and far more relentlessly. Shocks of pleasure rose up inside Alexander each time the tip slammed against his nerve endings, and his head rocked wildly as his alpha claimed him from behind. Wet muscles crushed in around his thin, vulnerable frame, each blow making him feel as though his knees might collapse and give way underneath him. Chris' vicious roaring brimmed in his ears, adding a primal urgency to their desperate movements, and overpowering Alexander's desperate cries of pleasure and want. The frame of the bed slammed violently against the wall, clearly alerting anyone on their floor to exactly what they were doing, as if the men's shouts of ecstasy weren't clues enough to the nature of their activities.

  Alexander didn't care anymore. He was done hiding himself from the world. His wants. His needs. His desires. His true self. It was time to stop pretending.

  The dance of the men's movements grew to its crescendo. The penetration deeper. The movements more violent. The cries louder, more desperate. The pressure getting harder and harder, until finally, with one last stroke of motion, the two of them burst into roars of pleasure, like the animals they were.

  Alexander felt his body struck to its core, pushed beyond a threshold from which it might never return. He felt every muscle trembling, struggling just to remain upright as the sensations reached their apex inside him. Then, God help him, he experienced the hot surge of his alpha's seed up his tight chasm, filling him, and spilling out of his body in thickness and abundance. Chris was claiming him, at least for the night, as his own, in loud, deep roars of carnal dominance.

  It was far beyond anything he could stand, for even a moment longer.

  His muscles tensed. His nerve endings burned. His prostate burst into a neon rainbow of sensation, and sent waves of orgasm cascading through every inch of his body. His hard cock erupted in the grip of Chris' hand, spasming in his grip, ejaculating hot bands of himself all over his fingers, across his own stomach, and far across the expanse of the bedspread beneath him. The waves of pleasure just kept coming and coming, rising higher and higher, seemingly without end.

  Between the man inside him and the feelings now coursing from deep within, he didn't think he'd ever known pleasure as sweet and as all consuming as that which he now experienced.

  Yet, even before the sensations had stopped coming, even before the two men separated from one another's bodies, Alexander found himself wondering, with a deep shudder of guilt, whether this might all have been a mistake after all.

  3

  Chris woke the next morning in golden rays of sunshine, his chest swelling with contentment as he took in his first breath of morning air. He still felt amazing from the previous night—after his vigorous taking of Alexander's cherry, he'd lain and cuddled with him in his arms for hours before drifting off to sleep. Alexander seemed to grow a bit distant after the act had been completed, but he figured that to be a result of tiredness and the alcohol in his system—you didn't just experience something like that for the first time and not end up just a little bit exhausted by it. Especially not with an alpha male as formidable as he was.

  He could still taste the virgin's warm, soft skin on his lips, all the parts of his body he'd taken so hungrily into his mouth the night before. Just thinking about it made the sheets leap up some between his legs, and he sighed a happy sigh.

  It wasn't just the sex. The truth was, he'd felt something toward the man. So innocent. So pure. So trusting. There had been a connection, whenever he'd looked into his eyes. A connection he hadn't felt with anyone, for a very long time.

  It was a little bit alarming, in fact. He'd spent so much of his life in solitude after all, cut off from the world. He'd gotten used to it, and fortified himself against loneliness. It seemed alien to him, then, to suddenly be considering the acceptance of a major new presence in his life. How did you adapt to that kind of change, when you'd built a whole existence on the idea that you could only live a life of solitude? When every person you'd ever loved or cared about had been taken away from you, and you'd been forced to put space between yourself and the people around you for your own protection.

  Maybe it was all just in his head, he considered. It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility, now that the last vestiges of his former life had finally been severed, and he was left completely on his own, that he would try and reach out for the first source of comfort he happened across, trying to fill the emptiness that had been left behind in the absence of his past.

  Maybe he was seeing this young omega, this virtual stranger, as a symbol of something missing in his life. And maybe it was a mistake, a sign of arrogance on his part, to think he could use him as a means of filling up such a significant void.

  But then again, maybe he was wrong.

  He didn't really think he'd just been imagining it all. Looking into his partner's eyes the night before, feeling the way he trembled and gasped and shook in his arms, it didn't seem like something one could easily misinterpret.

  Alexander had so clearly been looking for something in his life, just the same as Chris had been. They'd found whatever it had been, at least for one night, in the rapturous ecstasy of one another's embrace. And it was hard to argue with the passion of their cries, the vigor of their movements, and the enthusiasm with which they attacked one another. There was so clearly something between the two of them beyond the simple physical hunger, the carnal appetite of their desires.

  He thought back to the two of them wrestling together in their bear forms—the playful, flirtatious act of it as intimate, and almost even more enjoyable to him than the sex itself had been. After all, how long had it been since he'd been able to share his true self with someone like that? How long since he had felt safe enough to be that vulnerable and been able to participate in an experience that made him feel that connected with a member of his own kind?

  Now, this morning, he found he wanted to know everything he could about Alexander. Every inch of his body, every corner of his mind, and every crevice of his soul. He wanted to know about his life. His family. His sleuth. He wanted to know what it would take for him to become a part of that life, to become a permanent fixture of that shared bliss that had been so fulfilling to the two of them as it had unfurled the previous evening.

  He needed Alexander to see this all as he was now seeing it. He needed him to recognize the connection, em
brace it, and for the two of them to finally find the place in each other's life that they'd both so clearly been searching for. Searching for so very long.

  Of course, he couldn't just come right out and say all of these things. He couldn't unload his feelings on the hapless omega and risk driving him away. He needed to keep his cards close to his chest, so to speak. Take things as slow as Alexander needed them to be, until he came to see things the way Chris himself did. Just as he'd taken them slow last night, introducing another body into Alexander's own for the very first time.

  The memory of their union sent a shiver along his spine. He recalled the give of his tight flesh to accept him, and the hot envelopment of him inside his partner's innocence. He thought, remembering this and growing harder by the minute at the recollection, that he knew exactly how they might continue to explore the depths of their feelings for one another.

  A morning roll in the hay, he decided, would be a far better way to broach the subject of their connection than to go gushing his feelings all over the place, like some wide-eyed teenager.

  Smiling, and still lost in the haze of sleep, he reached over beside himself on the bed, expecting to feel warm, wet flesh pushing back against his fingertips, the slender young body of the man he found himself so rapidly falling for.

  Instead, he felt a cold, damp patch of sheets. A light impression where a body had once lain, and nothing more. He ran his hand over the covers, trying to make sense of the absence as a hot, unpleasant sensation rose in his chest.

  He looked up at the sound of rustling from across the room and experienced a moment's relief.

  The thin body he'd been looking for stood naked at the closet, pulling a set of clothes off the hanger. Chris lay there for a moment, studying the muscles in his back as he reached out, the toned surface of his buttocks, and those thin, strong legs.

  God, how he needed him all of the sudden.

  “Good morning,” he finally called out, in as low and seductive voice as he could muster. Alexander started at the sound of his voice and looked disappointed, as though he'd been hoping to make it past him without being noticed.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice devoid of enthusiasm, and only about half turning to face him. Chris noticed him cover his maleness with his hanging clothes. He didn't much care for this.

  He frowned and sat up in bed, trying to figure out where he stood, and hopefully right the ship as quickly as possible.

  “I um...I had a great time last night,” he said, sounding a lot less like the confident alpha male than he'd really been hoping. Alexander didn't say anything. Instead, he shuffled across the room to where a duffle bag sat on a chair, digging through it for a couple of his personal effects.

  Chris cleared his throat. He decided to try again, tapping into his masculine confidence properly this time. “Why don't you come back to bed for a little bit?” he asked. “I can teach you another lesson or two if you'd like. There's a lot you still need to learn. Last night was just a crash course more than anything...”

  At last, Alexander turned to face him. He was looking down at the floor, his face slightly red. He looked like he was trying to seem angry and distant, but Chris could see a glint of sadness in his eyes, like he already regretted the conversation that was about to ensue.

  “Look,” he said, his tone hostile, “I really think you should go.”

  Chris' brow furrowed. “Sorry?” he said.

  The omega looked up, his gaze cold, almost offended. “I have a lot of driving to do today. The longer I stand around here talking to you, the worse I'll end up delayed. I'm already running late. Please, just go.”

  He dug through his bag for a few more items, then began toward the bathroom door. Chris had been apprehensive before. Now he was angry. He stormed out from beneath the covers and practically leapt across the room after the omega. Alexander was halfway through the bathroom door when Chris reached out and grabbed him, holding onto his wrist just a little bit too tightly.

  “Wait a goddamn minute,” Chris ordered him, his eyes narrowed.

  “Get your hand off me!” Alexander seethed, glaring daggers at him.

  Chris scoffed. “That isn't what you were saying last night, was it?” He imitated the omega, in a demeaning feminine voice, “Harder Chris, harder! Oh, please!”

  He regretted it almost immediately. His hand had gotten way too tight around Alexander's wrist, and he pulled it away quickly, a white hot guilt swelling up inside his chest. He found he couldn't swallow for a moment.

  This wasn't him...He wasn't this type of person. He was just so stunned, so caught off guard by his rejection. It was a slap in the face to such sincere and deeply felt emotions, it was hard for him to process it. Though, of course, he knew that was no excuse.

  “Last night,” said Alexander, rubbing his wrist where Chris had seized it, “was a mistake...” A tear broke from the corner of the omega’s eye and darted along his cheek.

  He continued into the bathroom, and this time Chris simply stopped him from closing the door, unwilling as he was to let the thread of their conversation go without some form of explanation.

  “Did I do something wrong?” he asked, at last dropping the macho, sexy, tough guy act. There was sincere pleading in his voice, an honest need to atone for any mistakes he'd made.

  Alexander fixed him with his false hard gaze, but apparently Chris' sincerity got to him a little bit. His expression softened, ever so slightly, and he closed his eyes. Shook his head.

  “No. You didn't do anything,” he said. “I just need to get going. Okay? Please, just let yourself out, and you'd be doing me the biggest favor in the world right now.”

  “Alexander, I—”

  “Goodbye, Chris.”

  Alexander closed the door, leaving Chris standing there, his mouth agape, feeling like the world's biggest fool.

  He turned and sat down on the bed, replaying in his mind all that had happened between the two of them. He was trying to look back over the mental footage for any point in their encounter that might have led to any of this, though he came up completely blank.

  Did Alexander begrudge him for taking his virginity? It had seemed important for him to point that out in the heat of the moment, the fact that he'd never been with anyone. But he hadn't seemed the least bit unwilling as it was happening...Did he just feel after the fact that Chris had taken advantage of him?

  His mind raced, following a dozen different lines of thoughts, trying to piece things together. In the end, though, he decided it was hopeless. He needed to do the decent thing right now and leave as Alexander had asked.

  But not without making one final, last-ditch effort.

  He went over to the bedside stand and grabbed the pad of hotel stationery lying there, along with a pen. He scribbled out the number of his cell phone on a blank sheet, the one he'd been using in the months since his relocation to the human world to find short-term employment as he traveled from place to place.

  He placed the pad on top of the desk in the corner, just above the place where Alexander's duffle bag sat—a place where he'd be certain to notice it. He stared at the note for a moment, thinking there was little hope of ever actually getting a call from him, but sighed with resignation.

  Everything in his life had always slipped through his fingers, so he guessed it was foolish of him to think this could possibly be any different. Still, it had been nice pretending things could change, if only for a night.

  He turned and made his way over to the door. He stopped at the entrance and stared down at his tattered clothes. It had seemed so sexy the night before, ripping through them to impress Alexander in the way that he'd done. He hadn't really anticipated having to leave the following morning the way he now was, feeling so disgraced and alone. He had some clothes in his truck he could put on, but having to traipse through the hotel naked to get to them didn't really seem like the most fun thing in the world at that very moment.

  He went back over to the bathroom door and pounde
d on the door with his fist. “Hey...You think I could get a towel?”

  No sooner had he asked than the sound of the shower rushing on came rumbling through the wall, and after waiting about a minute, he knew Alexander was ignoring him.

  He sighed.

  “Bastard...”

  Lacking any other options, he jerked the twisted comforter off the bed and wrapped it around himself like some kind of homeless king. Then he stomped out of the room, feeling dejected, miserable, and close to certain it would be the last time in his life he laid his eyes on the beautiful man in that room, or felt the warm, gentle touch of his skin against his own.

  He already missed him desperately.

  4

  Cold, gray dust drifted through the sharp, white shafts of sunlight, pouring in from checkered glass. None of the windows matched, some of them completely transparent, some of them totally opaque, some busted out altogether, with nothing but the shattered remains of their edges to indicate they'd ever been there at all.

  The men's rabid cheers of encouragement rose up inside the walls of the abandoned warehouse. Cries for blood, pain, and murder. To them, however, it seemed all in good fun.

  In the circle of the room two naked males circled around one another, their eyes locked together, their limbs in position to leap at one another the instant the opportunity arose. Both men had sculpted, muscular bodies, but one of them had a clear physical advantage over the other. He had sleek blonde hair and penetrating black eyes. His chin was decorated with a sharp goatee, and his mouth was twisted into what looked like a perpetual smile. From the bear tattoo in the center of his chest, a long trail of additional ink twisted wildly, snaking up his neck, out across his broad shoulders, down along his arms and legs.

  He was laughing at the man across from him, clearly trying to get into his head.

  “That's it...Oh, you're so angry aren't you? Think you're man enough to take on a shifter like me? Oh, but you don't really think that, do you, you goddamn pussy? You know you're nothing, and you know the only way to prove to yourself that you're not is if you can kick my ass. So sad. But don’t worry about me fucking you up too badly. Just bend over, and I’ll try to be gentle with you.”

 

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