Caught by the Mad Alpha King Chapter 422: Provocation [Win-Win]

Chris’s challenge hung in the air, a provocation wrapped in a satisfied purr. Dax’s laugh was a low, dangerous rumble, like a predator accepting an invitation to hunt again. "The threat managent system," Dax repeated, his voice a gravelly whisper against Chris’s ear. "And you, my little moon, are the most persistent threat I’ve ever faced."

Without another word, Dax moved. He rose from the bed, his movents fluid and powerful, and pulled Chris up with him.

Chris stumbled, his legs still shaky from his previous orgasms, but Dax held him steady, an arm of steel around his waist. He didn’t give Chris a chance to catch his breath before he was backing him up, step by step, until Chris’s bare back hit the cool, smooth expanse of the glass wall. The shock of the cold glass against his overheated skin made him gasp, his nipples pebbling instantly.

"Look," Dax commanded, his voice a low growl.

Chris’s gaze flickered to their reflection. He saw himself, smaller and slender, pinned against the vastness of the sky by Dax’s larger, stronger fra. Dax stood behind him, a dark shadow of pure dominance, his purple eyes blazing with a light that appeared to devour Chris’ reflection. It was intoxicating, seeing himself so completely possessed.

Dax hooked his arms under Chris’s knees, lifting him like he was weighing nothing. Chris yelped, his hands flying up to clutch at Dax’s shoulders as his feet left the floor. Dax took his entire weight, his muscles flexing with the strain, his cock already hard and pressing against Chris’s entrance.

"Wrap your legs around ," Dax ordered. "Now."

Chris obeyed instantly, locking his ankles behind Dax’s back. He was suspended, held only by Dax’s strength, his body a sheath ready to be filled.

Then Dax was pushing into him. There was no gentleness, just relentless upward pressure. Chris cried out, his head collapsing against the glass as Dax’s thick length penetrated him, stretching him wide. Gravity was a co-conspirator, pulling him down, forcing Dax’s cock deeper and deeper inside him until Dax was fully sheathed, his hips flush against Chris’s ass.

"Gods," Chris choked out, his vision blurring. The sensation was overwhelming, a combination of intense pleasure and the sweet ache of being completely filled.

Dax didn’t pause.

He began to move, using his legs to lift Chris slightly before letting him fall back down, impaling him repeatedly. Each thrust was a rush of pure ecstasy, with Dax’s cock hitting his prostate with every damn move.

The wet, slapping sounds of their bodies colliding echoed in the glass room, a carnal rhythm that was both filthy and sacred. The scent of their pheromones was a storm, the dark rum of Dax’s arousal blending with the sharp, clean scent of Chris’s pleasure until the air was thick enough to taste.

"You see that?" Dax grunted in his ear, his breath hot and ragged. "See how you take ? How you were made for ?"

Chris could only moan in response, his eyes fixed on their reflection. He watched Dax’s muscles bunch and flex as he moved and watched his own face contort in a mask of pure pleasure. He saw the slick dripping from his hole, coating Dax’s balls, and the obscene sight sparked another surge of desire in him.

He was close again. The coil in his stomach tightened, his balls drawing up. "Dax," he whimpered. "Dax, I’m... I’m going to..."

"Co for ," Dax commanded, his voice rough. "Co all over my cock."

With a sharp cry, Chris ca, his cock releasing strings of cum across his own chest and stomach. His body twitched, his clenched hole milking Dax’s shaft.

Dax followed him over the edge with a guttural roar, his hips slamming up one last ti as he emptied himself deep inside Chris. He held Chris there, pinned against the glass, his body shuddering with the force of his release.

For a long mont, they stayed like that, Chris’s limp body held up only by Dax’s strength and his own legs locked around the alpha’s waist. The only sound was their ragged breathing.

Finally, Dax moved, carrying Chris back to the bed and laying him down gently. Chris felt boneless, his body thrumming with a pleasant, exhausted ache. He thought, for a fleeting mont, that they were finally done.

He was wrong.

He had barely caught his breath before Dax was on him again, flipping him onto his hands and knees. Dax’s hand pressed firmly between his shoulder blades, forcing his chest down onto the mattress and leaving his ass high in the air.

"Still not done," Dax murmured, more to himself than to Chris. He ran a possessive hand over the curve of Chris’s ass, his thumb tracing the cleft. "Not even close."

He entered Chris from behind in one smooth, powerful thrust. Chris buried his face in the sheets, muffling his cry. This ti, Dax’s pace was different. It wasn’t the frantic, desperate rhythm from before, but a deep, grinding stroke that seed to touch Chris’s very soul. He was thodical, relentless, hitting Chris’s prostate with every thrust, building the pleasure slowly and agonizingly until Chris was a writhing, begging ss beneath him.

"Please," Chris sobbed, his fingers clutching at the sheets. "Please, Dax... please..."

"Please what?" Dax growled, his rhythm never faltering.

"Please... let co," Chris begged, his voice wrecked.

Dax’s hand reached around to grab Chris’ cock, which was already hard and leaking again. "Then co," he said, his voice tight with his own impending release. "Co with ."

He stroked Chris’s cock in ti with his thrusts, and it was too much. With a muffled scream, Chris ca again, his body shaking uncontrollably. Dax slamd into him one last ti, his own orgasm ripping through him as he filled Chris yet again.

This ti, when Dax collapsed, he didn’t move. He lay draped over Chris’s back. Chris could feel his heart beating against his back in a slow, steady rhythm that helped to calm his own frantic pulse.

The sun began to set, casting long shadows across the room and bathing them in a warm, golden glow. They lay tangled together, sticky and satisfied, the scent of their lovemaking like a potent perfu in the air.

Chris lost track of ti. He lost track of the number of tis Dax took him. He was taken on the floor, his legs draped over Dax’s shoulders as the alpha knelt before him, worshiping his body with his mouth and his cock. He was taken in the shower, the hot water cascading over them as Dax pinned him against the tiled wall, his thrusts as relentless as the pounding spray. He was taken again in the bed, slow and sweet this ti, with Dax kissing him deeply, their bodies moving together in a familiar, cherished rhythm.

Each ti, Chris thought it would be the last. Each ti, Dax would prove him wrong. It was as if Dax was trying to make up for every mont they had lost, trying to brand himself so deeply into Chris’s body and soul that he could never be forgotten again.

By the ti the moon was high in the sky, Chris was utterly spent. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, and could barely think. His body ached in a way that was both painful and deeply satisfying. He was lying on his side, Dax curled around him, his arm thrown possessively over Chris’s waist. He could feel the slow, steady drip of Dax’s cum from his abused hole, a physical reminder of how insane his mate was.

Dax’s lips brushed against his temple. "Sleep," he murmured, his voice soft and husky. "I’ve got you."

Chris closed his eyes, a faint, tired smile on his lips.

He didn’t trust Dax to stop now.