Miles had waited for two reasons -- one, he wasn't a fucking idiot. He knew Corrigan would be hypervigilant when protecting his little mate, wouldn't relax his protective hovering for weeks, if not months. He knew all about the overproduced breeding pheromones -- he could fucking smell them from the woods outside the cabin. They were a constant torment, a teasing reminder of what the rest of the pack got to enjoy every damn day, but he was forbidden from. He could hear the little human slut, whining in pleasure as they were used by the pack, as they rode Corrigan's cock until he came inside them for the millionth time. And still Miles -- the true Beta, the true Alpha, he'd argue -- had scarcely even touched them.
The only benefit of the sickening, heavy tang of heat hormones is that Miles can linger close to the cabin, learning the shape of the treeline, the best places to hide in the shadows, the routines of the pack he used to call his. He watches them, notes that Kai likes to sneak away with Leo or Benji for a mid-afternoon riverside fuck, that this usually coincides with Corrigan and Naseer reviewing the food stores and planning hunts, or making note of improvements on the cabin. They're planning to knock out a wall, built an additional room for the pup before their mate is due. Before Kurt is due.
Miles watches them closest, of course -- sitting in the sun with Leo braiding their hair, handing Naseer clothes to hang on the line (the most strenuous task the pack will allow), cuddled in Kai's lap, fucked in every possible combination at every possible hour. He feels like he knows the way their soft, freckled skin would feel, the way their ass would fit perfectly in the cradle of his hips, how they'd moan when he thrust inside them. How they'd look with his spend coating their face, filling their throat, spilled over their tits. What his cock would feel like, finally buried to the hilt inside them.
It's all so real, so vivid, that a lesser man might've been satisfied with merely watching, with hiding among the bushes and stroking their cock to the sight of Kurt being bred over and over and over. Someone less determined would've let the fantasies be enough. Miles was not a lesser man. He'd challenged the strongest alpha in the woodlands, he hadn't surrendered what was rightfully his. With Corrigan's mate in his arms, his bed, Miles would have enough leverage to take his place as Alpha. When his pup was growing in Kurt's belly, he'd return, demand acceptance to the pack, and take leadership.
And until then, he had numerous plans for how to occupy his and Kurt's time.
First, though -- taking advantage of the pack's preoccupation to seize his prize. Miles moved silent, almost liquid through the forest, towards where Kurt lingered by the treeline, stretching their lower back, their unprotected belly soft, rounded, vulnerable. A slight rustle of bushes, a flash of silver, and there was a knife, tip pressed lightly to the swell of Kurt's stomach. Miles remained in the shadows, unseen, barely breathing, taking advantage of the pack mate's scent to hide his own for the handful of instants required.
"Don't make a sound. You can scream, but I'll kill your whelp by the time anyone hears." Miles's voice was soft, barely a whisper. "Don't look behind you. Step forward. Now."
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my gift my delight my soul????
Date: 2023-11-10 01:35 am (UTC)The only benefit of the sickening, heavy tang of heat hormones is that Miles can linger close to the cabin, learning the shape of the treeline, the best places to hide in the shadows, the routines of the pack he used to call his. He watches them, notes that Kai likes to sneak away with Leo or Benji for a mid-afternoon riverside fuck, that this usually coincides with Corrigan and Naseer reviewing the food stores and planning hunts, or making note of improvements on the cabin. They're planning to knock out a wall, built an additional room for the pup before their mate is due. Before Kurt is due.
Miles watches them closest, of course -- sitting in the sun with Leo braiding their hair, handing Naseer clothes to hang on the line (the most strenuous task the pack will allow), cuddled in Kai's lap, fucked in every possible combination at every possible hour. He feels like he knows the way their soft, freckled skin would feel, the way their ass would fit perfectly in the cradle of his hips, how they'd moan when he thrust inside them. How they'd look with his spend coating their face, filling their throat, spilled over their tits. What his cock would feel like, finally buried to the hilt inside them.
It's all so real, so vivid, that a lesser man might've been satisfied with merely watching, with hiding among the bushes and stroking their cock to the sight of Kurt being bred over and over and over. Someone less determined would've let the fantasies be enough. Miles was not a lesser man. He'd challenged the strongest alpha in the woodlands, he hadn't surrendered what was rightfully his. With Corrigan's mate in his arms, his bed, Miles would have enough leverage to take his place as Alpha. When his pup was growing in Kurt's belly, he'd return, demand acceptance to the pack, and take leadership.
And until then, he had numerous plans for how to occupy his and Kurt's time.
First, though -- taking advantage of the pack's preoccupation to seize his prize. Miles moved silent, almost liquid through the forest, towards where Kurt lingered by the treeline, stretching their lower back, their unprotected belly soft, rounded, vulnerable. A slight rustle of bushes, a flash of silver, and there was a knife, tip pressed lightly to the swell of Kurt's stomach. Miles remained in the shadows, unseen, barely breathing, taking advantage of the pack mate's scent to hide his own for the handful of instants required.
"Don't make a sound. You can scream, but I'll kill your whelp by the time anyone hears." Miles's voice was soft, barely a whisper. "Don't look behind you. Step forward. Now."