Beg him to slam it all in at once — you want the pain and the fullness hitting you like a freight train.

5 Breedmore Lane, Maplewood Suburbs, at 1:01 AM on Saturday November 1, 2024

"All of it," I gasp, my legs locked around his waist, my heels digging into the small of his back. "Don't go slow. Slam it in. I want — I want to feel it all at once."

Decker's amber eyes darken. Something shifts behind them — something ancient and hungry that has nothing to do with the quiet man who stood at the back of the room. His lips pull back from those elongated canines and a growl vibrates through his chest, through his cock where it's pressed against my entrance, through my entire trembling body.

"You asked for it, bunny."

He drives forward in one brutal, devastating thrust.

The world goes white. Eleven inches of furnace-hot, vein-ridged wolf cock splits me open with a force that lifts my hips clean off the couch cushion. My mouth opens in a silent scream — no sound comes out because there's no air left in my lungs. Every nerve ending in my body fires simultaneously, the ghost-cum amplification turning the catastrophic stretch into a supernova of sensation that I can't categorize as pain or pleasure — it's both, it's neither, it's something my nervous system doesn't have a name for.

He doesn't get the knot in on the first stroke. The grapefruit-sized bulge catches at my entrance, too wide, too swollen — but it stretches me to a diameter I didn't know was possible, my pussy lips pulled taut around the widest point of the bulge, my pelvic bones groaning with the pressure. I can feel my belly distending, the outline of his cock visible through my flat stomach, pushing against my insides like he's rearranging my organs.

"Fuck —" Trent breathes from somewhere to my left. "Look at her take it."

I'm shaking. My whole body is vibrating like a plucked string, my thighs clamped around Decker's massive frame, my fingers clawing at his shoulders hard enough to draw blood through his fur-dense skin. Tears stream down my cheeks but my pussy is gushing — a flood of mixed fluids squirting around his shaft, soaking his knot, dripping onto the couch cushion beneath us.

Decker holds still, buried to the knot, letting me adjust. His cock throbs inside me — I can feel each pulse of his heartbeat through the walls of my stretched channel, the heat of him almost unbearable, like being filled with molten iron. The head of his cock is pressed hard against my cervix, and the pressure is so intense I can feel it in my spine.

Then a shadow falls across my face.

Rafe steps up onto the couch, his knees bracketing my head. He's lean and bronze-skinned with a cocky grin and dark hair swept back from a sharp face, his amber eyes bright with amusement. His cock — eight inches with a pronounced upward curve and a swollen knot at the base — bobs inches from my lips, pre-cum dripping in a steady thread onto my chin.

"Open up, conejita," he says, the Spanish endearment rolling off his tongue. "You wanted all of it at once, right? Let's fill both ends."

He doesn't wait for permission. His clawed hand grips my jaw, tilting my head back, and he feeds his curved cock between my lips. The angle means it slides directly into my throat — the curve matching the natural bend of my esophagus — and I feel it push past my gag reflex with obscene ease. My nose presses against his pelvis, his knot hot against my chin, and I'm filled completely from both ends.

Decker begins to move. Slow, grinding rolls of his hips that push his knot fractionally deeper with each thrust, stretching my entrance wider and wider. Rafe fucks my throat in counterpoint — pulling back as Decker pushes forward, creating a rhythm that rocks my entire body back and forth between them like a ragdoll.

I can't breathe. I don't need to breathe. The ghost-cum has turned my body into something that runs on sensation alone, and the dual penetration — throat and cunt, both stretched to their absolute limits by knotted wolf cocks — is building something enormous in my core. My pussy clenches around Decker's shaft in rhythmic waves, my throat convulses around Rafe's curve, and I'm making sounds — wet, gurgling, desperate sounds — that aren't quite human anymore.

"She's close," Fenris announces from the sidelines, his tracker's nose apparently able to smell my approaching orgasm. "Get ready, Decker. She's gonna milk that knot whether you're ready or not."

Decker's response is a guttural growl. He grabs my hips with both massive hands — his claws dimpling my skin — and pushes. The knot stretches me past what should be possible, past pain, past reason, and then — with a wet, obscene pop — it seats inside me. Locked. Sealed. My pussy lips snap shut around the narrower shaft behind the bulge and I am tied to him, unable to separate, his cock buried to the hilt inside my ruined, cum-filled cunt.

The orgasm detonates.