He does -- tangibly, cock hardening further against Kurt's tongue, pressing at the back of their throat. The corner of his mouth twitches, curves cruelly as the horror they can't hide in their wide, haunted eyes. "Always thought that, even back when it was Benji. That pup was so much more fun when he couldn't resist. Ever notice how fucking bleeding-heart Corrigan never pins him down the way he does you or the others?" Miles sneers, rocks his hips up hard, remembering that fight, him insisting that the whelp wasn't taking to his new role because the Alpha gave him too much damn freedom. He'd always been taught a pack's mate belonged either beneath a wolf or kept somewhere out of the way if not needed. He'd always convinced Benji to be tied down when it was just the two of them, had overridden the pup's fear and unease with everything from soothing words to threats. Corrigan had caught him, eventually, had nearly killed him for it. Weak. Spineless.
Glancing back down, Miles lets his hand drift over to his knife, always strapped at his hip, always ready, just in case. He keeps it with him unless he's asleep, in which case it's kept locked in a drawer, the key put high on the mantle, out of Kurt's reach, no matter how they strain to get it. "He was always so tender-hearted, Corrigan. He let the pack get away with too much -- all of them. Kai wouldn't have lasted a week under my leadership. Leo's as spineless as Corrigan is, and Naseer..." A scoff, a sharp sound as the knife is drawn free from the sheath. "Well, Naseer always got whatever he wanted. A Beta's meant to be subservient to the Alpha, not his equal. Not his friend."
A soft sigh, and Miles waves the knife around vaguely, free hand seizing a handful of Kurt's long, loose hair. Slowly, he begins to saw through the thick strands, idly, like he just wants something to do -- or he wants to scare them by having the knife out, so close. "That won't be how I run things, when we return. Which we will, once you deliver and recover. There's a town not far from here, where a woman owes me a favor. If Corrigan's brat isn't out of your belly in a week, she'll cut it out." All calmly, idly, unbothered, as Miles continues to roughly cut Kurt's hair.
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Glancing back down, Miles lets his hand drift over to his knife, always strapped at his hip, always ready, just in case. He keeps it with him unless he's asleep, in which case it's kept locked in a drawer, the key put high on the mantle, out of Kurt's reach, no matter how they strain to get it. "He was always so tender-hearted, Corrigan. He let the pack get away with too much -- all of them. Kai wouldn't have lasted a week under my leadership. Leo's as spineless as Corrigan is, and Naseer..." A scoff, a sharp sound as the knife is drawn free from the sheath. "Well, Naseer always got whatever he wanted. A Beta's meant to be subservient to the Alpha, not his equal. Not his friend."
A soft sigh, and Miles waves the knife around vaguely, free hand seizing a handful of Kurt's long, loose hair. Slowly, he begins to saw through the thick strands, idly, like he just wants something to do -- or he wants to scare them by having the knife out, so close. "That won't be how I run things, when we return. Which we will, once you deliver and recover. There's a town not far from here, where a woman owes me a favor. If Corrigan's brat isn't out of your belly in a week, she'll cut it out." All calmly, idly, unbothered, as Miles continues to roughly cut Kurt's hair.