Reborn To Defy The Alpha-Chapter 70: Are You Insane?

The cry that tore from Seraphine’s lips was one of shock and overwhelming fullness. Her eyes flew open, wide and glazed, her body arching off the bed. He was so much more than his hand, a thick, rigid invasion that stretched her in an entirely new, breathtaking way.

He didn’t pause. He gave her no chance to adjust to the stunning intrusion. He simply began to move, setting a fast, brutal pace from the very first stroke.

"Ss...sir Eberhard!" she gasped, her hands flying to his forearms, her fingers digging into the hard muscle there, seeking an anchor in the storm.

"Yes," he grunted, the sound feral. His hips pistoned into her, each deep, rough thrust punching the air from her lungs. "That’s it. Take it. Take all of me."

Her head thrashed on the pillow. It was too much, the sensations too intense so soon after her shattering climax. A confusing mix of pleasure and a sharp, building friction coiled tightly within her. Her moans were choked, desperate things, lost in the slick, wet sound of their joining.

He leaned over her, caging her with his body, his face a mask of fierce concentration and raw hunger. "You feel... incredible. So tight around me. Like you were made for this. For me to use you. For my pleasure"

His words washed over her, fueling the fire he was stoking deep inside her belly. She could only cling to him, her body rocking violently with the force of his movements. Each plunge robbed her of coherent thought, leaving only feeling. The scrape of his pelvis against her clit. The delicious, punishing stretch as he filled her again and again. The hot, possessive grip of his hands on her hips.

"Please..." she begged, but she didn’t know what she was begging for. For him to stop? For him to never stop? The line was obliterated.

He read the plea as surrender. A dark grin touched his lips. "You want more...right?"

In a fluid, powerful motion, he rolled them both over. She found herself on her stomach, the soft duvet muffling her cry of surprise. He didn’t miss a single beat. His hands gripped her hips, hauling her up onto her knees, positioning her before him. He drove into her from behind, the new angle even deeper, impossibly more intense.

"Oh my goodness, Sera," he groaned, his thrusts becoming even more frantic, more possessive.

This was a claiming. Pure and simple. Each snap of his hips was a punctuation mark on his ownership. Her face was pressed into the bedding, her fingers twisting in the sheets. Tears, born of overwhelming sensation and a deep, shameful thrill, welled in her eyes and traced hot paths down her temples into the fabric below. She clenched her teeth, a soft sob escaping as he pounded into her, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the lavish room.

He leaned over her back, his chest hot against her skin, his mouth near her ear. "You belong to me. Say it."

She couldn’t form words. A broken moan was her only answer.

He fucked her harder, his pace turning punishing. "Say it."

"I...I...belong to you!" she cried out, the admission torn from her. "I’m yours, S...sir Eberhard, all yours!"

The words seemed to unleash something feral in him. A guttural roar ripped from his throat as his rhythm fractured, becoming erratic, desperately deep. He plunged into her one last, final time, his body rigid as he spilled himself inside her with a force that shook them both. His name was a prayer on her lips as a second, unexpected climax was ripped from her, a weaker echo of the first, her inner muscles milking him through the last pulses of his own release.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing. He remained buried inside her, his weight a heavy, possessive blanket. His hands smoothed over the curve of her hips, a stark contrast to the fury of moments before.

He lowered his head, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, his voice a low, satisfied murmur. "Now... was that so hard?"

Seraphine lay still, her breath trembling as she tried to steady herself. Her body quivered from exertion, from the aftershocks still rolling through her muscles, but mostly from the hollow ache of being used so thoroughly.

She did not speak. She did not trust her voice not to break.

Eberhard sat up first, his expression cool and utterly unbothered by her silence. "Stand up," he said, tone brisk and already shifting back to business. "Go see what Nikki is up to before she makes another mess."

The words landed like a slap.

Seraphine blinked hard, swallowing the tight sting in her throat. It was always like this. Always. The moment he took what he wanted, she was no longer a person he desired, she became a tool again, pushed back into motion without pause or comfort.

She forced her legs to move. She slid off the bed carefully, her descent slow and unsteady. Her limbs felt weak, heavy, as if they were made of water instead of bone. She steadied herself against the bedpost briefly.

Behind her, Eberhard had already stretched out again, turning his back to her with total disinterest.

Seraphine stood there for a moment, chest rising and falling in a shaky rhythm. She clenched her jaw before exhaling softly, trying to gather the last strands of composure she still possessed.

Her discarded clothes lay on the floor like the remains of someone else’s struggle. She bent to pick up her jeans, her fingers brushing her torn shirt and ruined pants. Shame prickled hot beneath her skin.

She looked toward Eberhard. "Can I... borrow a shirt?" she asked quietly. "Mine has been torn."

Eberhard turned his head slightly, irritation flickering across his features. "Are you insane?" he snapped. "What do you want the pack to say if they see you wearing my clothes? Or smell you walking around with my scent still fresh?"

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