Fallen General's Omega (BL)-Chapter 216: Mating 3 [M]

The moment the cabin door slammed shut, Thorne barely had the presence of mind to lock it before his arms were full of Noelle. A force of nature, desperate and trembling, pressed up against him like he was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

It was all-consuming. Overwhelming.

Noelle’s fingers tangled in Thorne’s hair, yanking him into a bruising kiss. It was nothing like the usual slow and teasing dances they sometimes shared—this was raw, unfiltered hunger. It was the need to devour, to take, to fill every inch of the space between them until there was nothing left but the other.

Thorne had never felt his body burn like this before. He couldn’t think, couldn’t form a single coherent thought beyond the fire licking through his veins and the intoxicating scent of the omega in his arms.

Noelle was panting, his chest rising and falling erratically against Thorne’s own bare skin. The shirt he had stolen that morning was long forgotten, discarded somewhere in the madness.

Thorne was vaguely aware of the fact that his hands were roaming Noelle’s body without direction, memorizing, gripping, holding. His omega was soft and strong all at once—his hips fit so perfectly in his grasp, his waist so easy to wrap his fingers around, his skin flushed and burning under his touch.

Thorne wanted to mark him everywhere.

He pressed Noelle back against the wooden wall of the cabin, pinning him between his own heated body and the unyielding surface. Noelle gasped, his head falling back, exposing the column of his throat—offering, submitting, inviting.

It sent something primal surging through Thorne’s chest.

His lips descended, claiming the soft skin just below Noelle’s jaw, kissing, sucking, nipping. He felt the way Noelle shivered, the way his fingers dug into Thorne’s shoulders, gripping like he needed to hold onto something or risk unraveling.

"Thorne," Noelle gasped, his voice breathless, needy.

Thorne could barely hold himself together.

He needed more.

Noelle moaned softly when Thorne’s teeth grazed against his pulse point, his breath catching, hips rolling forward in blind desperation.

Thorne growled low in his throat, hands gripping Noelle’s thighs and lifting him without a second thought.

Noelle’s legs wrapped around him, their bodies flush, no space left between them.

Their lips found each other again, messy and urgent, nothing but heat and hunger.

Somewhere in the haze, Thorne managed to move them, half-blind, instinct guiding his steps as he carried Noelle toward the bed.

They collapsed onto the mattress in a tangle of limbs, bodies pressed together, hands grasping, skin sliding against skin.

Noelle was writhing beneath him, the scent of him so intoxicating, so thick in the air that Thorne felt dizzy with it.

His omega.His.

The thought sent something dark and possessive clawing up his spine.

Thorne’s control shattered.

There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. Instinct overrode everything.

His pants were discarded with reckless urgency, flung away as though they burned him. His body ached, his skin burned with need, his pulse thundering in his ears like a war drum. This was beyond desire. Beyond anything he had ever felt before.

His omega was right there, trembling beneath him, waiting, wanting.

Thorne’s breath came in sharp, uneven pants as he reached forward, his hands mapping the curves of Noelle’s body. The soft lines, the fevered skin, the way his back arched into his touch like he had been sculpted for him alone.

He turned Noelle onto all fours, his palms sliding down sweat-slick skin, following the tremble of anticipation.

Perfect. Beautiful. His.

His fingers gripped Noelle’s hips, thumbs digging into the flesh possessively, anchoring himself.

And then—he saw it.

Noelle was leaking, body prepared, his scent overwhelming the space between them.

Thorne groaned, deep and guttural, his entire body tightening at the sight, at the undeniable proof that Noelle was ready, was waiting, was his.

With no patience left, Thorne drove in. Deep. Hard. Claiming.

Noelle screamed.

Not in pain—in relief.

Thorne’s rhythm was punishing, unrelenting, each thrust marking his claim, each movement etching his ownership deeper into Noelle’s body. There was no thought now, no rationality, only need, only possession.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

The word pounded in his skull, a mantra, a vow.

His omega. His mate. His to keep.

His hands roamed wildly, greedily tracing every inch of exposed skin. He couldn’t get enough, couldn’t hold him close enough, couldn’t consume him fast enough.

But it wasn’t enough. Not yet.

Something primal, something ancient, clawed at him, whispering, urging.

Mark him. Make him yours.

Thorne leaned forward, his chest flush against Noelle’s back, his breath hot against the nape of his neck.

He brushed aside the raven silk of Noelle’s hair, baring the delicate slope of his nape.

Bare. Untouched. Unmarked.

His vision blurred, his instincts screamed.

His mate was unclaimed. Vulnerable.A low, possessive snarl rumbled in his chest.

His lips brushed against the sensitive skin, his teeth aching, his entire body straining with the need to sink in, to make it permanent.

His hand tightened around Noelle’s stomach, his other bracing against the mattress.

He felt Noelle’s shiver, the way he went still, his breath hitching.

Thorne sensed it—the anticipation, the silent plea.

And then—he bit down.

Pleasure exploded.

A raw, visceral shockwave of heat and sensation erupted between them, searing through their bodies like a live current.

Noelle arched violently, his body locking up, his voice breaking into a shattered moan.

Thorne held on, his teeth sunk deep, his mark burning into place.

The bond snapped into existence, invisible threads weaving them together, sealing them as one.

It flooded through his veins, a rush of completion so intense that Thorne nearly blacked out from the sheer force of it.

His vision blurred, his pulse roared, his body tensed as he spilled deep inside his mate, claiming him in every possible way.

Filling him. Owning him. Making him his forever.

Noelle cried out, his own release triggered by the overwhelming connection, his body clenching down around Thorne as he convulsed with the force of his pleasure.

It was too much. Too consuming.

The bond was a wildfire, burning through them, tightening, tethering, binding them together in ways that no words could ever undo.

They were one. Finally.

Thorne collapsed forward, still inside him, his arms tight around Noelle’s waist, his lips still pressed against the new mark.

It felt right. It felt inevitable.

Mine. Forever.

His breath was ragged, his muscles trembling, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum of war.Thorne licked over the fresh mark, soothing it, sealing it in place, ensuring it would never fade.

Noelle made a soft, exhausted sound, his body boneless, weak, utterly claimed.

For a long time, they just lay there, tangled in the heat, in the aftermath of something ir

reversible.

His omega smelled like him now. Was part of him now.

No one would ever take him away again.

Noelle was his. Forever.

Finally.