Fallen General's Omega (BL)
Chapter 55: Missed 3 [ M]

Chapter 55: Missed 3 [ M]

He’s perfect like this—completely undone, utterly mine.

I lean down, my lips brushing against his ear as I murmur, "You feel that? How well you take me?" My voice is rough, edged with the primal satisfaction of seeing him like this—so vulnerable, so open.

Noelle’s response is nothing more than a strangled cry, his hands clutching at the sheets as I pound into him, each thrust deliberate and unrelenting. His entire body moves with me now, his hips rising to meet my rhythm, desperate for more, for everything I’m giving him.

I feel him tighten around me, his body responding to the roughness with an eagerness that drives me wild. Each gasp, each moan, fuels the fire inside me. My control slips further with each passing second until I’m no longer thrusting for him—I’m chasing my own release, hard and fast, driving into him with reckless abandon.

I grab his hips harder, the force of my grip enough to leave bruises, but I can’t stop. The need to possess him, to claim him completely, overtakes everything else. Noelle’s voice, his pleas, his body trembling beneath me—it all pushes me closer to the edge.

I glance down at him, his face flushed and damp with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead. His eyes are locked on mine, wide and filled with so much desire it makes my chest tighten. The way he looks at me, the way he’s always looked at me—it’s as if I’m the only thing he needs. The only thing that can satisfy him.

That thought sends a thrill through me. I press my thumb against the slight bulge in his lower stomach, where I can feel myself deep inside him. Noelle gasps, his back arching as he presses into my touch.

"Feel that?" I growl, my voice hoarse with need. "You’re so full of me... so good for me."

His response is immediate, his body shuddering beneath mine as his pleasure surges. He’s close again, so close, and I know he can’t take much more. But I’m not ready to let him go just yet.

I slow my pace, dragging it out, savoring the feel of him wrapped so tight around me. His whimpers turn to cries as I pull back, teasing him again, keeping him on the brink. He’s so desperate, his hips moving of their own accord, trying to chase the pleasure I keep just out of reach.

"Thorne... please..." Noelle’s voice breaks, his hand coming up to grip my arm, his nails digging into my skin. "I need... I need you..."

The raw emotion in his voice nearly undoes me, but I hold on a little longer, my need to dominate, to control, overriding everything else. I slow down even further, dragging out each thrust, making him beg for it, his body twisting beneath me, trying to take what I’m not yet ready to give.

But then I see it—the tears welling up in his eyes again, the desperate, broken look on his face—and I can’t hold back any longer. With a deep, guttural groan, I thrust hard and deep, burying myself fully inside him. His body clamps down around me, and I feel the last of my control snap.

I’m lost in the rhythm now, my hips slamming into him with an intensity that makes the bed creak beneath us. I grab his wrists, pinning them above his head as I drive into him again and again, harder, deeper, until I feel the edge of release creeping up on me.

Noelle is completely gone, his voice a mixture of sobs and moans, his body shaking as I take him, filling him completely. His head is thrown back, his mouth open in a silent scream as his second orgasm crashes through him, his body convulsing with the force of it.

The sight of him—completely wrecked, trembling in my arms, his release spilling between us—is too much. With one final thrust, I bury myself as deep as I can, and I let go. The pleasure hits me like a tidal wave, overwhelming every sense, every thought, until there’s nothing left but the feel of Noelle’s body, the sound of his ragged breaths, and the intense heat of my release spilling into him.

For a moment, everything is still, the world reduced to the two of us, tangled together in the aftermath of our desire. My breath comes in heavy gasps as I collapse on top of him, my body spent, my mind blissfully empty.

Noelle’s chest rises and falls beneath me, his breathing shallow but steady. I bury my face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of him—sweat, sex, and something distinctly him. I can feel the slight tremble in his limbs, the way his fingers twitch as they come up to rest on my back, holding me close.

"Thorne..." His voice is soft, barely a whisper, but it’s enough to send a fresh wave of warmth through me. I lift my head, pressing a gentle kiss to his jaw, and he turns his face toward me, his eyes heavy-lidded but content.

I pull out slowly, the sensation making us both shudder. Noelle winces slightly, his body still oversensitive, and I immediately gather him into my arms, pressing him close to me. His skin is warm against mine, and I can feel the soft rise and fall of his chest as he recovers from everything we’ve just done.

I stroke a hand through his damp hair, my thumb brushing against his temple as he settles into my embrace. The room is filled with the quiet aftermath of our passion, the soft rustling of sheets and the sound of our breathing the only noise in the stillness.

As we lay there, the remnants of our shared intensity lingering in the air, I can feel Noelle’s body slowly relax in my arms. His breathing evens out, and his muscles go soft against me, but even though he seems spent, there’s a lingering hunger in the way he clings to me.