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Chapter 4 - Cumming Down From The High (18+)

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I was already a mess—shaken thighs, slick everywhere, and my shirt twisted around my waist like it was just hanging on for dear life. But Rowan wasn't letting me come down from that high; oh no, not even close. He had me pinned in his lap, hands gripping my hips, and he started thrusting up into me with these short, fierce motions that made my eyes roll back.

Each slam forced broken sounds out of me. The headboard hit the wall again, even louder this time, and honestly? I didn't care if the whole floor could hear it. My world had shrunk down to the sensation of his thick cock dragging inside me, the way his knot would catch then release, teasing me, promising everything.

"Ohhh~R–Rowan—" It came out as more of a sob than a word. My nails had dug into his shoulders, and I was grinding helplessly against him, chasing that brutal angle that made my spine arch.

"Shh, baby, I've got you," he growled into my throat, his teeth scraping over last night's bite. "I'm gonna make you scream for me one more time before I knot you stupid."

He shifted his hips just a bit, changing the angle, and suddenly every thrust was hitting that spot perfectly. My breath caught and broke into these pathetic little moans I couldn't control. Pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in my belly, white-hot and unbearable.

"Look at you," Rowan rasped, his voice strained as he watched my face like it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. "So fucking pretty when you're about to fall apart on my dick."

I tried to respond, to be a little bratty, but all I managed was a desperate whine as he slammed up into me even harder. My cock was trapped between us, leaking steadily against his abs, smearing a mess across both our stomachs with each bounce.

"Come on," he coaxed, one hand gripping the back of my shirt, pulling me down so our chests were pressed together. "Mess me up, Theo. Want to feel you lose it."

He drove into me, relentless, his hips snapping against me, his knot swelling bigger with each thrust but not quite locked yet. Just teasing, stretching, driving me insane. My body trembled, thighs burning, vision blurring at the edges.

"R-Rowan, I can't—" I sobbed, my head thrown back, throat exposed. "I'm gonna—"

"Yeah, you are," he snarled, and then he really let go.

Thrust after thrust, deep and punishing, the rhythm was brutal yet perfect. The pressure snapped, and I came with a scream that felt like it could shatter glass, my back arched, my entire body seizing as I spilled hot and messy all over his chest and stomach, painting us both in stripes of white.

Rowan immediately crashed his mouth against mine, swallowing the remnants of my scream, kissing me filthy and deep to quiet me down. His tongue slid into my mouth like he was trying to taste the sound, his hand fisted tightly in my hair, keeping me right where he wanted me while I shook and clenched around him.

I was still coming, still pulsing, when he finally growled into the kiss and slammed home one last time. His knot caught hard, locking us together, and he spilled inside me with a guttural curse muffled against my lips.

We stayed like that for a moment, trembling and breathing each other in, my face buried in his neck while he stroked my back under the ruined shirt like I was something precious.

"F–fuck," I mumbled against his skin, my voice wrecked.

Rowan just laughed, low and satisfied, kissing the top of my head. "You're definitely late now, pretty boy."

We collapsed sideways in a tangle of sweaty limbs and messed-up sheets, his knot still tying us together so we couldn't go far. He landed half on top of me, his chest rising and falling, white hair sticking to his forehead in damp strands. My legs felt like jelly, my throat raw, and I was pretty sure the shirt had permanently stuck to my back with a mix of sweat and… other things.

For a minute, the only sounds were us both trying to remember how to breathe.

Rowan was the first to break the silence, his voice hoarse and laid-back against my shoulder. "Jesus, Theo… if we keep this up every time I'm in town, my swimmers are gonna stage a coup and get you pregnant just to spite your birth control and suppressants."

I snorted, still panting, and lazily swatted at his arm. "Impossible, rock star. I've been on the good suppressants for six years straight. The fancy ones. Zero slip-ups, zero scares. My womb's basically a fortified bunker."

He lifted his head just enough to give me that crooked, exhausted grin, his eyes soft and fond. "Yeah? Fortified bunker, huh?"

"Steel walls, armed guards, the whole deal," I mumbled, already half-asleep. "Your little soldiers don't stand a chance."

Rowan chuckled, low and warm, then leaned in to press a slow, gentle kiss to my lips (so different from the bruising ones from just minutes ago). This one was soft, lazy, almost sweet. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine.

"Good," he whispered, his thumb brushing my cheek. "Means I get to keep wrecking you, consequence-free."

I smiled against his mouth, too blissed-out to argue. "Deal," I breathed.

And then we just lay there, knotted and boneless, letting the morning catch up with us while the city buzzed thirty floors below.

The knot finally started to soften, and we flopped sideways, half-draped over each other like a couple of fools who forgot gravity existed. I traced lazy circles on Rowan's inked chest while he played with a strand of my hair that had stuck to my cheek.

I poked his ribs. "So, now that I've been thoroughly wrecked, are you finally gonna stop being a jerk about my boss dreams? Sex tax paid in full."

Rowan snorted, still raspy and wrecked. "Baby, that wasn't payment. That was just the appetizer." He turned his head and pressed a smug kiss to my temple. "It'll never be enough."

I gasped in full dramatic outrage, propping myself up on one elbow despite my arms feeling like wet noodles. "Excuse me? You literally said, and I quote, 'I'll stop being mean if we recreate last night.' That was the deal! You aren't a man of your word after all!"

He laughed, loud and bright, the same laugh that had filled stadiums, then rolled us so I was tucked under him again, his knot finally small enough that he could move without hurting me. "Theo, sweetheart, light of my life, my dear walking disaster," he said between residual chuckles, "I'm an Alpha who just spent the morning inside the sweetest omega on the planet. You really think any amount of sex is gonna make me less greedy? I lied. Sue me."

I tried to glare, but it got ruined by the stupid grin splitting my face. "Liar. Fraud. I want a refund!"

"You want another round?" he shot back instantly, his eyebrows waggling.

We both cracked up again, our foreheads pressed together, breathless and giddy and ridiculous.

Then his laughter faded into something softer. His thumb stroked my cheek, slow and careful, his playful glint shifting to something serious.

"Hey," he murmured, his voice dropping low. "Knot's down. I can pull out whenever… but before I do, there's something I need to say."

My heart flipped (part post-orgasm haze and part sudden nerves). "Okay…?" I managed, swallowing hard. "You're not about to propose or something equally insane, right?"

He huffed a tiny laugh, but his eyes stayed steady on mine. "In your dreams," he said softly. "Just… listen for a sec, yeah?"

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