At this rate, with Kurt three climaxes in and still begging him for more, Corrigan might reconsider the firm ban on them coupling with any of the wolf forms -- the pack gets needy and insatiable around the full moon, and the risk of them being too rough or too intense has kept him from allowing this in the past. But considering how well Kurt's taking him -- his cock, his relentless pounding, his near-feral focus, not to mention the overwhelming rush of pleasure flooding them through the pack link -- the Alpha may need to reconsider.

But later. Now he has his beautiful mate beneath him, blood-smeared and bright-eyed and sobbing with pleasure, their small hands clawing at Corrigan's rippling muscles and their sweet voice begging him to breed them. Now there's nothing but them, but Kurt, his beloved, his delight and joy, his soul and their wholehearted acceptance of everything that it means to take his knot, his seed.

The snarl that escapes the Alpha's throat is resonant and all-encompassing as thunder, as he slams his hips forward once, twice, the thick girth of his knot swelling and plunging inside Kurt's tight little body. When he comes, it's with a moaning cry of his mate's name, clutching them closer as he spills inside, pulsing his body down as if trying to push his spend deeper, feeling their belly swell against his. It's like the first time. It's better than the first time.