12. Chapter 12
Chapter 12
Dayton
It’s been a while since I went shopping on foot. A nice, relaxing walk to get some groceries is all I need to wash away that lingering feeling of discomfort that’s been clinging to me ever since last night.
I look up at the evening sky. The city is the prettiest at this time of day. At the turning point between day and night. Colorful with the evening sky and slowly multiplying city lights. It almost makes me want to take a longer walk toward the park, but I think all I have the mental energy for tonight is a quiet evening with the ramen I bought and some reality shows.
Fishing out the keys out of my pocket as I get closer to my apartment, I stop in my tracks once I look up.
The world slows down. I have to blink to make sure I’m not dreaming.
I’m not. Rowland is actually there, leaning against his car parked right outside the entrance to my building. He’s already looking at me, studying me. His expression shows clearly that he knows what a mess he must have just created inside of me. It is apologetic, yet somehow still charming. As per usual, he looks gorgeous in his long coat and a suit.
My feet finally listen to me so that I can continue walking, though my knees threaten to buckle at every step. Rowland stands up and straightens his back, taking in a nervous breath as I approach.
“How did you know where I live?” I blurt. I’m not worried, not really. It’s just the first thing my mind comes up with to fill in the insufferable silence.
Rowland raises his brows and quickly opens his mouth. “I’m sorry if me turning up here is going too far. I…paid for your taxi the first time we met, remember? The address stayed in the destination history of the app.”
“Oh. It’s fine.” I manage to sound surprisingly emotionless, even if inside I’m freaking out completely. What is he doing here? Why now? Why come back after I basically ghosted him? Over all those questions and panic, a little part of me purrs with content. He’s here. He sought me out.
He seems to once again deduct where my thoughts must be going. Shifting nervously on the spot, he clears his throat before speaking.
“I found out what Mina said to you in the hospital. I know why you…pulled away. And I am sorry.” His voice softens to that honeyed tone that makes me all mushy inside.
Sighing, I hang my head down. I wish it was that simple. “It wasn’t just about what she said, Rowland, I—”
“Please,” he says sharply, stepping toward me. I tense up when he holds my hand with such urgency. The warmth of his touch passes all the way until it reaches my cheeks that start burning with the familiar heat. “I’m not trying to convince you of anything or make you change your mind. All I ask for is to give me a chance to explain. If you still want to leave things where they are, I will leave and I won’t bother you again. You have my word. But please , give me a chance to talk about it.”
I chuckle softly. You idiot. How the hell could I say no to you right now?
“Alright,” I whisper. He looks relieved. “How long have you been waiting here?” I ask when I dart my eyes across the car behind him. The wardens in this part of the town are relentless.
“A while,” he says in a way that indicates it’s been more than a while.
“You’ll get a fine if you keep your car parked here. There’s an allocated parking area for my building out the back of the—”
“I can handle dealing with the fine, Dayton,” he interrupts me with an endearing, crooked smile, letting out some sass into his voice.
Ha. I guess that’s right.
I nod, and Rowland finally releases my hand, leaving an uncomfortable emptiness behind. “Come on up.”
Having Rowland in my apartment is the last thing I expected today. Since we’re already walking up the stairs, it’s a bit late for me to panic about the mess, so I get my priorities straight and panic about the mess of my feelings for him instead.
The plastic bag with a few snacks and essentials in my hand suddenly weighs a ton and the feeling of Rowland’s eyes on my back drives me insane.
“Sorry about the mess. I didn’t expect anyone,” I say while opening the door and moving aside for him to enter.
He has a faint smirk on his face when he walks past. “I’ll do my best not to judge.”
This goddamn man. My heart feels like it’s about to explode.
Rowland sits on my couch while I hastily put the shopping away. Nervously fidgeting with his hands in his lap, he looks around my place. “You really like plants,” he concludes, studying the giant monstera by the window.
I almost regret rushing back into the living room, because now that I’m standing in front of him, I become painfully aware that there’s no more stalling, and we’ll actually have to talk.
“Y-Yeah,” I mutter and hesitantly sit next to him.
His scent causes this scarily innate reaction in me—my body responds to it with a feeling of calm and relaxation. Like he’s mine. Like he’s supposed to be here.
I lower my gaze and swallow. Come on. Just spill it out. This is torture.
Rowland probably sees my body language that screams ‘a nervous wreck’ so he speaks. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you in person for getting me to the hospital.”
“Are you… Is everything okay?” I ask, looking up at him. He smiles softly and nods.
“I’m fine. Well, besides…not really being fine these past few weeks. I…I missed you,” he lowers his voice to something scarily vulnerable and fragile. It makes my heart tug to see that hurt expression of his. I want to scream at him ‘So did I. I missed you so fucking bad.’ but I can’t. What was the point of my doing all that, of letting go, if I just allow him back in now?
“What Mina said to you was horrible. I don’t know what to do with that girl. She’s really going off the deep end and I feel painfully unqualified to deal with her, so I decided some family therapy is finally in order.”
“I hope it helps you,” I say, understanding. “She’s definitely dealing with something, but I don’t blame her. She’s young and confused. I get it.”
“I know you didn’t pull away because you were offended.” Rowland looks at me firmly, making me want to sink into myself. I don’t want him to know, to understand, to convince me to come back, because I worry it will only hurt both of us. “You left because you thought you being around was detrimental to Mina. Because you’re an empathetic, mature human being. I appreciate that. You have no idea how much I do.”
Oh, why oh why are you saying all the right things?
When he leans toward me and moves his hand on the couch to touch mine, I don’t pull away. Pressing my lips together, I hold his gaze, already willing to give in.
“The truth is, what’s going on with Mina has nothing to do with you. It’s much deeper than that, which…saying that, I get it if you want to keep away from the whole mess that is my life right now.” He absentmindedly runs his finger across the top of my hand. “There are many things I’ve had to—and am happy to—give up for my kids. But you’re not one of them, Day. You’re something I really don’t want to give up, I've come to realize.”
“Goddammit,” I curse under my breath with a sigh, causing him to frown in worry. “You just know exactly what to say, don’t you?”
After a moment of uncertainty, Rowland’s lips spread into a wide smile. “I know this might be getting tiresome, but…one more chance?” he says with a playful tone to his voice, and shifts even closer to me until our knees touch.
With a smirk, I tilt my head. “Third time’s the charm, huh?” This close, when I take in a breath of relief, the scent of his pheromones fills my lungs. I close my eyes, momentarily overwhelmed by the sensation.
“Oh, I— Sorry,” he blurts tentatively. “Since the flare up that landed me in the hospital, the doctors said it’s better I stay off the medication for a few months, so I haven’t been taking it. I’m sorry if it’s uncomfortable.”
With a tender smile, I lean closer to him, until I feel his hot breath on my face. Rowland keeps that sophisticated facade up, but I can tell he is losing it inside. “I never said anything about your pheromones being too much,” I whisper seductively, glancing at his lips briefly before meeting his eyes again.
Rowland takes the bait. He seizes my lips and wraps his hands around my waist, finally crossing the line that’s been drawn and left so excruciatingly untouched since our near kiss in his house.
I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone more in my life. This feels right. So right.
We kiss eagerly, almost as if to devour one another, while struggling to undress each other. When all but our pants are on, I pull Rowland up. “Bed,” I manage to breathe out between our ravenous kisses and drag him into my bedroom. I have a feeling that the amount of fluids and sweat we will produce won’t be something I want to try to get out of my couch.
Before I can even get down, Rowland stops me by pulling my body back against his. Standing at the foot of the bed, he keeps planting kisses all over my neck while undoing my belt. His cock pokes me in the back in the meantime, making me hunger for him even more.
I turn around when he finally pulls the rest of my clothes down and start working on his pants. His pheromones get richer, louder. It’s like he’s swallowing me up.
His cock springs up from his boxers as I snatch them down and brushes against mine, making us both gasp in pleasure. He’s thick, and pink, and perfect .
Seizing my lips again, Rowland pushes me back onto the bed and after we kick our pants off on the floor, he’s already on top of me like some wild beast, groaning and hungrily running his hand over my chest.
“I’ve been dreaming of this, you know?” he whispers into my ear while he grinds against me. With a shaky exhale, I tilt my head back and enjoy the delightful sound of his voice. The pheromones are making me dizzy, in a good way.
“Mmhmm.”
My brain's turning into mush.
While his beard tickles me with every kiss going from my throat to my chest, his left hand presses our cocks together, stroking slowly and steadily, while the other reaches for my ass.
“You’re so wet and ready for me…” This vulgar, unrestrained side of Rowland, the sophisticated mister CEO, turns me on even more. I tighten around him as he slips a finger in, and he chuckles in response. When I meet his eyes, there's something deliciously dangerous in them. His pheromones intensify again, threatening to push all the air from my lungs and leave me aware of nothing but his intoxicating scent of delicious figs.
He keeps jerking us off with deliberate, rhythmic motions—just enough to drive me up the wall, but not enough to end this too soon.
I put my hand over his to speed up the pace just a bit and he slides another two fingers into me. I moan, arching my lower back. “Don’t hold back,” he says, pressing his wet lips against my temple. “Please, Day. Don't hold back.” He sounds desperate, high strung.
It takes me a moment to realize what he means. My pheromones . He’s asking me to release more of them.
I’ve spent years subconsciously learning to suppress them to the best of my ability. After all the heartache, embarrassment, and the fucked up, traumatic reactions, I’ve become used to suffocating that innate aspect of me for the comfort of the other person. But now…Rowland said he likes the scent of my pheromones. He really wants me, all of me.
“Do you really like my scent?” I lose the fight with the pathetic part of me that still refuses to believe him and ask out loud.
Rowland slows the movements of his hands, giving me a look of disbelief. His eyes are glazed over with lust. “You’re really asking that?”
Before I can respond, he nuzzles his nose against my collarbone and starts stroking us again, taking in a deep breath.
“Bitter…like a citrus peel, with a hint of olives. Or olive leaves? It's rich, and fresh. I’ve never smelled anyone like you, Day,” he muses, saying each word deliberately, while his hand moves in tandem with every syllable. “I never want to smell anyone else. Just you.”
I almost want to cry. “Say it again,” I whimper without inhibition, as needy and desperate as I am. As I’ve always been.
“I want only you. Let me taste more, please,” Rowland says softly and for the first time in so many years, I relax and all the nature of who I am deep down radiate out. My pheromones mix with his and there has never been a more marvelous scent.
“God, Dayton. Let me make love to you, okay?”
The way Rowland speaks strikes some deep part of me. Is this how he spoke to his wife? To someone he’s loved for so long and so deeply? In this tone that sounds like I am the most precious thing in the world to him? Sounding revered and ravenous at the same time?
Rowland spreads my legs slowly to enter me. The way his eyes darken as he penetrates me with his fingers, spreading open my hole and readying it for the main course, really is something else. I’m completely ready and willing to let him do anything. To let him devour me if he wishes to.
“A condom,” he mumbles drunkenly, his last active brain cells firing up just in time.
I roll to my stomach and struggle to reach the handle of the drawer in my nightstand. Rowland acts before I even blink—he opens it, grabs one of the few condoms scattered around with random pens and hand creams and presses his hand on top of my tailbone, holding me still underneath him.
Oh, we’re going to do it from the back? I shiver with excitement and lift my ass. Who would’ve known you’re such an animal, Mr. Hall.
Rowland torments me by running his finger down my spine, all the way from my neck to my ass. He spreads my cheeks and enters me in one fluid motion, like we were meant to click together, made perfectly compatible by the universe. I’m so wet even his girth isn’t a problem. If anything, it feels fucking amazing.
“Oh, Day,” he moans, thrusting slowly. He leans over me, helping me on my knees before he rests his chin against my shoulder. “Dayton, Dayton, Dayton,” he keeps muttering my name like he’s under some sort of spell.
Everything about him is sending me deeper and deeper into pure bliss. The dominant undertone to his every word. That deep, husky sound penetrating my mind. His firm but considerate actions, leading me and pushing me right to the places I desire.
And his pheromones, surrounding and enclosing me, make it seem as if we’re in some bubble, far away from everything and everyone. Just the two of us, as it should be.
“Now…which way would you prefer?” Rowland asks, almost playfully. Before I can even wonder what he means, his left hand drifts up to my chest. He takes my nipple between his fingers and twists it, pushing a trembling moan out of me. “Or,” releasing, his hand travels downward, toward my aching cock dripping with precum, “this?” He wraps his hand around me firmly at the base and, with a single sharp stroke, draws another cry of ecstasy out.
“Fuck!” I moan under him, my elbows buckling.
Has it been that long since I’ve had great sex? Actual, mind-blowing, proper alpha to omega sex? I don’t remember it being this damn good.
“Which way, Day?” he asks, waiting patiently for my answer while fucking me slowly. Something tells me that once I give him an answer to what part of me he should focus the rest of his attention on, the intensity is going to crank up.
I try to catch my breath and to even form a coherent thought. “I’m gonna come if you…if you keep touching me down there.”
Suddenly, I can barely breathe. Whatever surge of hormones comes out of Rowland, it is overwhelming and makes me so dizzy my vision goes blurry for a moment. “That’s exactly what I want,” he says and speeds up his tempo while stroking me. I gasp and cry out, bending my back. His cock goes in from the tip to the root, with more and more intensity in his movements.
He’s trying to destroy me completely, isn’t he?
“That’s it,” he says, drawing in my scent. “Ah. That’s it.”
“Rowe.” I’m not sure how seriously he took what I said, but I’m approaching my limit embarrassingly fast. I tilt my pelvis so that his cock hits that perfect spot. “That feels good,” I mumble, eyes rolling to the back of my head. Nudging against my face, he gets me to turn my head so that we can kiss again, twisting our tongues together in a wet, slobbery mess of animalistic passion.
That’s it, indeed. It’s what pushes me over the edge. I can’t even manage to tell him. My whole body seizes and tenses. My breath hitches, and I moan unabashedly into his mouth as I come, dripping over his fingers while Rowland gives me a few more slow strokes.
“Well done. Good,” he praises me, briefly making his voice sound all buttery and gentle. “Can you keep going?” he asks, tension rising in his words.
It feels like he got even harder inside of me when I came, or maybe it was just my sensitivity spiking after the orgasm. Either way, I nod and kiss him back. I usually need some time, but the air is thick with our scents and the heat of his body pressing against me rekindles my fire.
“Keep going,” I urge him.
Rowland’s grip that holds my hip steady tightens, and his other hand starts carefully stroking me again. Sweat drips down my forehead, and as I try to lift my head, I realize how strange I feel. Like I would lose balance if I stood up straight. In fact, I’m not sure I could move my legs if I tried. Rowland’s pheromones are way beyond anything I’ve ever experienced, and I’m starting to understand why this is a condition.
But I lean into it instead of fighting. This is natural. And if anything, it means he’s really feeling himself, making me that much more turned on.
“Fuck, Dayton,” he mutters suddenly. I feel his hand grab on my shoulder, squeezing it. “This feels a little…too good. W-we have to stop,” he says sharply.
I frown, turning at him as he looms over my shoulder. “What? Why?”
His breath trembles. “I’m going to… Fuck, I’m going to knot you if— Mhmm, this is dangerous .”
Ah.
Everything inside me sharpens up.
I can only count on the fingers of my hand the number of times I’ve been knotted. Half the instances were unexpected and borderline terrifying with their abrupt intensity. The other two felt nice, good…but not nearly as spine-tingling as the mere idea of Rowland swelling inside of me, locking himself within.
The intoxicating wave of pleasure it sends through me is more than some primal echo of my lizard brain, urging me to get knocked up. Rowland’s care and the alarmed concern in his voice, masking the deep lust, are endearing. Precious.
I want it. I want it so badly it almost scares me.
The moment he tries to pull away, I quickly hook my leg around his so that he has nowhere to back out. “No,” I blurt, meeting his eyes. “Keep going.”
There’s a desperation to his expression. Like he’s holding off from falling with all his might. “Day—”
I angle my pelvis to push against him, making him snap his eyes close and groan. As many pheromones as I can possibly release, I do. It’s like some natural reaction; like my body knows exactly what’s going to happen and how to lead me toward it. Or maybe it's because of how drunk I'm on his scent, and how much it feels like it's completely taking over. As if he's marking me, claiming me as wholly his.
Rowland moans and proceeds to fuck me again relentlessly, thrusting against me as if he’s trying to tear me in half. When he’s as deep as he can, he clenches his arm around my chest, holding me so tightly that I feel every beat of his pounding heart against my skin. Then, the pressure grows within me.
Even though the expansion is gradual, it pushes the air out of my lungs and makes me completely paralyzed for a moment. When it feels like Rowland had filled and stretched my insides to their limits, this explosive, fervent euphoria overtakes me.
I come again, without even touching myself or half without realizing. The pleasure is everywhere, like a whole-body orgasm, multiplied by a hundred.
I’m not sure how long we stay locked and twisted together like that. As I slowly open my eyes and look around, I almost suspect I passed out from the high of it for a moment. Rowland’s deep breaths slowly lose their intensity, and his arm falls loose from holding my chest.
We both collapse on the bed next to each other. Rowland turns to face me.
I smile widely, seeing him all red and dewy and flustered looking.
“Dear god,” he says tiredly, closing his eyes to symbolize how taken he is by what just happened. “It’s been quite some time since I last… Holy shit. ”
“Holy shit is right,” I say with a playful snort, rolling to rest against his chest.
When Rowland opens his eyes again, concern marks his gaze. “When I get so turned on, I— Did it hurt? Are you okay?” He brushes against my hip carefully, looking like he got in trouble for doing something bad.
He is way too worried about this. It’s adorable.
“Rowe.” Grabbing his chin, I make him face me instead of whatever self-deprecating negative self-talk he is focusing on, darting his eyes all over my naked body. “I’m okay.”
“Are you sure you’re not bleeding? It can get pretty intense, even for an omega.”
“I’m not a beta,” I assure him, in the most calming, soothing tone I can muster. He lowers his brows. “My body was quite literally made, and adapted, for this exact thing. It felt good. It felt really fucking good.”
He sighs deeply, resting his forehead against mine. “Thank god,” he whispers. There are clearly some things there holding him back, and I think I can figure out what they are. “It’s just…Hope hated when I knotted her. I began to fear it, no matter how good it felt, because I hurt her every time. She’d cry, and she’d bleed, and I would feel like a monster because…I loved her so much, and the more I loved her, the easier it was for me to lose myself and get in that state. My condition makes it a bit easier to get there.”
“That must’ve been hard on you.” Brushing his hair with my fingers seems to please him. He closes his eyes with a faint smile on his lips.
“Yeah. Though, probably much harder on Hope.”
Still so selfless. So quick to blame himself for something he can’t control. Pity isn’t exactly the best mood for pillow talk, so I pull close for a kiss. “Well, I’m me, and I wholly enjoyed it. You can— Huh?” I twist around to see where the wetness on my thigh is coming from. “Oh, shit. The condoms I had might have…not been entirely made with knotting in mind,” I note once I realize it’s Rowland’s grand prize running out of me.
He sits up to check, and the condom is, in fact, split.
“Damn.” He gets a little white in the face.
“It’s alright. I’ll go and pick up a Morning-After Pill from the pharmacy first thing tomorrow morning,” I say with a wave of a hand. Wouldn’t be the first time this happened.
“Let me pay for it.”
I chuckle. “I can afford it, Mr. Hall. I was the one who egged you on to do it, anyway.”
Rowland gives me an expression of a disappointed parent, but it quickly shifts into a content smile. “If you insist.”
With a sigh, I rest back against his chest. Rowland’s arms wrap around my shoulders, and as we lay there together, everything feels…still. Serene.
“You still want to give us another shot, right?”
“Mmmm…nah. I think I got all I wanted from you, thanks,” I joke. Rowland snorts and playfully squeezes me. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. I want to.”
He kisses the top of my head. “Good. We will do things right. We’ll go slow with Mina. Try to…keep her to the sidelines, at least until there is some progress made in therapy, hopefully. I’ll introduce you to Mac properly. He’s going to adore you. And if something goes wrong…we talk it through.”
My eyes feel heavy as I rest against his chest. I could die happy right now. “Sounds like a good plan to me. You…you can stay the night, right?” I ask, feeling a sense of dread at the mere thought of him getting up and leaving right now.
“Of course.”
“You had such faith in the positive outcome of this visit, huh?”
He laughs, charming as ever. “What can I say? I’m a hopeless romantic.”