Caught by the Mad Alpha King Chapter 227: The cost of boldness

Chris didn’t know when they reached the bed.

One mont he was on the table, clinging to Dax like the room was spinning; the next, the world dipped and he was lying against cool sheets, his head swimming, his skin too hot, his pulse pounding in his ears. There was no universe in which he had walked there on his own. He was far too gone for that.

Which ant Dax had carried him.

And Dax hadn’t even tried to hide the way his breath shook doing it.

Chris swallowed hard, chest rising too fast, every inhale catching on the pressure building in his stomach. His legs shifted restlessly against the sheets, trying and failing to ease the insistent coil of heat gathering at his core. His mind blurred at the edges, floating sowhere between panic and desperate need.

"You..." He hissed through his teeth, closing his eyes against the surge of heat. "You did this..."

"I know," Dax answered without sha, leaning forward to press his forehead to Chris’s, his scent wrapping around him like a net. "And I’ll take care of you. All you have to do is let ."

Chris’s lips parted, a helpless sound breaking free as another wave hit. His hands fisted in Dax’s shirt, pulling him closer without thought.

"Please..." he whispered, not even sure what he was asking for anymore, maybe relief, closeness, or anything to stop the ache building under his skin.

Dax’s lips brushed his, soft at first, a single breath of a kiss, and Chris’s body arched toward him like he’d been waiting years for it. The next kiss was deeper and slower, Dax’s hand firm against the back of his neck as he murmured against Chris’s mouth:

"Good. Let it happen, my moon. Let have you."

Chris gasped into the kiss as another rush of heat tore through him, his own pheromones spilling uncontrolled, tangled with Dax’s rich, grounding scent. There was no thought left now, only instinct, only the pull toward the man before him.

And when Dax eased him back onto the bed, hovering over him with a gaze that promised everything and demanded nothing but surrender, Chris stopped fighting entirely.

He opened to the heat, to the pull, to Dax’s hands and lips and scent, letting himself fall into the bond that had already claid him.

Dax kissed him slowly, almost languid, his hands sliding beneath the soft fabric of Chris’s shirt with maddening patience. His mouth traced along the side of Chris’s neck, down to the edge of the collar over the mark, his tongue teasing there just enough to make Chris shiver.

But the ache in Chris’s body had widened into sothing unbearable, sothing that pulsed and burned, refusing to wait for Dax’s ddling slow pace.

Dax’s palm swept over his hip, lips dragging down his collarbone.

"Slowly," Dax murmured against his skin, velvet-smooth and dangerous. "I want to savor you."

Chris’s eyes snapped open, darkened with heat, his chest heaving as he stared down at the king with disbelief and frustration that cut through every nerve in his body.

"Slowly?" His voice was rough, edged with a growl he didn’t even know he had. "You’re..." He gasped, hips twitching up against Dax’s thigh, desperate. "...you’re killing , Dax."

Dax chuckled low, a deep rumble of amusent that vibrated against Chris’s chest as he leaned in to kiss him again.

"Patience, my love..."

Chris had no patience left.

With a sound sowhere between a growl and a gasp, Chris planted both hands against Dax’s chest and shoved hard enough that the king actually fell back against the pillows, his eyes widening in surprise as Chris crawled over him, straddling him with a glare that was equal parts desperation and defiance.

"You," Chris hissed, gripping Dax’s shirt and yanking it open with far less care than Dax’s usual elegance, buttons scattering to the floor, "are not going to play with like this. Not now."

Dax’s breath caught, his violet eyes going dark as he watched Chris strip him with quick, impatient hands. His lips curved into a slow, hungry smile even as Chris shoved his shoulders back against the bed.

"Well," Dax murmured, voice rougher now, full of approval, "aren’t you full of surprises..."

Chris didn’t answer, he was already leaning down, kissing him hard, biting his lower lip until Dax groaned against his mouth. His hands slid down Dax’s chest, nails raking lightly over skin as he rocked down against him, heat and thirst overwhelming every thought.

Dax’s hands rose automatically to grip Chris’s hips, but Chris slapped one away, leaning back just enough to et his eyes.

"No," Chris said, his voice low and trembling with the intensity burning through him. "Not this ti. You don’t get to be in control every second."

Dax’s smirk deepened, his gaze locking on Chris like a predator utterly delighted that his prey had teeth.

"Show , then," Dax said softly, his voice breaking on a growl. "Show what you want."

Chris did.

He moved over Dax with an urgency that stole both their breaths, dragging kisses down his throat, grinding against him until Dax’s own composure cracked, a low curse spilling from his lips. Chris’s hands worked Dax’s belt with frantic movents, tossing it aside, and when he shifted down to take what he needed, Dax’s head fell back against the pillows with a dark laugh that turned into a groan.

Chris’s question ca out half-breathless, half-accusing, and his fingers tightened slightly around the thick length he’d freed from Dax’s trousers.

"How," he murmured, black eyes wide as he stared down, heat flaring in his cheeks despite the ache driving him, "did this thing ever fit inside ?"

Dax’s laugh was low and dark, his chest rising under Chris’s hands as he reclined further into the pillows. "It fits," he rumbled, voice a husky purr, "because you take better than anyone could. Are you going to ask every ti you see it?"

Before Chris could fire back with so sarcastic bite, his own body moved on instinct. He dipped his head, lips parting, and traced the hot, heavy length of him with his tongue.

Dax’s words caught in his throat, breaking into a sharp groan. His hips lifted a fraction, completely unashad, as one hand tangled hard in the sheets and the other cupped the back of Chris’s head, holding him there like sothing precious.

"Gods..." Dax’s voice was low and frayed, a laugh bleeding into a growl. "Careful, love... you start like that, I might forget to let you lead."

Chris humd against him, deliberately wicked, his tongue sweeping along the thick vein with a slow, careful drag. His own laugh vibrated against Dax’s skin, making the king hiss between his teeth.

"Who said you get a choice?" Chris shot back, looking up through dark lashes before leaning down again, lips closing over the head of him, tasting salt and heat and power as he took more, slow, his jaw flexing as he tested himself.

Dax swore softly, his head falling back, eyes burning down at Chris through the spill of white hair over his forehead. His thumb brushed over the sharp line of Chris’s jaw in reverence, his voice rough and hungry.

"That’s it... take ... just like that..."

And Chris did, tasting, learning, working him with a mix of frustration and need, until Dax’s body tensed under his hands, the deep rumble in his chest promising that this little act of boldness would cost Chris later, cost him dearly, in all the ways that made his body shiver with anticipation.