Chapter 8
Maliki
Sera lounges in a button-down shirt that looks far too sexy on her. She’s wearing it like a dress, the black fabric reaching her knees. And the only thing I can think about is unfastening it to expose the sweet figure beneath.
Fuck.
I should not be hard right now. But I am. Too fucking hard.
Because she’s off-limits to me. Again. Yet all I want to do is grab her and truly kiss her. Then explore every inch of her with my tongue and make her fall apart beneath me.
But apparently, that will cause her inner Omega to light up like a beacon to all of Alpha kind and alert them to her presence here.
I nearly growl in frustration.
Morpheus caught me up in the kitchen, telling me how Sera’s Omega woke up, thanks to my talented hands—his words, which he promptly changed to talented tongue after observing my reaction. After a beat of silence, he gave me a smile and asked, “How did she taste, Enforcer?”
When I didn’t answer, his smile only widened.
“I suppose I’ll find out soon enough,” he said before going on to explain the signal her Omega gave off and what it means for all of Alpha kind.
Basically, he told me what I already gathered—Sera is an unclaimed Omega who is about to go into heat. When that heat will occur is a mystery, but Morpheus expects it will come on quickly.
“Leading up to it will be quite fun for you,” he told me earlier.
I arched a brow. “For me?”
He smiled again, his grin revealing twin dimples.
“You’ve awakened a feral need that can only be satisfied by a knot.
Yet I suspect you might be the only one she’ll let touch her for now, which means the privilege falls to you to give her pleasure.
And she’s going to be beautifully insatiable.
” His blue-green eyes slid over me. “Your shadows may become quite useful.”
I didn’t ask him what he meant. Because I already understood.
My shadows provide sensation. They can also create textures and shapes.
Not many know that about me. Either Morpheus was making a guess, or he’s watched me before.
I’m willing to bet it’s the latter.
He’s the God of Dreams. It only seems natural that he would be a voyeur.
Or maybe that’s an Alpha trait.
Styx knows how much Hades likes to watch.
Though, I’m the one watching right now as Sera brings a piece of pizza up to her delectable mouth. She’s on her third helping, something I find remarkable given her small stature. But she was clearly hungry. And the little moans she’s emitting tell me how much she’s enjoying her meal.
My lips twitch as a pepperoni slides off the cheese… then I groan when she catches it with her tongue. “Shadows, trouble,” I breathe. “Are you trying to kill me over here?”
She frowns as she chews her food.
Then swallows.
And fuck, now I’m imagining something else sliding down her pretty throat. Something warm and maybe a little salty. Something euphoric.
“What did I do?” she asks, the picture of innocence.
Oh, how I would love to teach her a lesson in seduction right now. Fist my fingers in her hair and yank her back over the arm of the chair and feed her my cock.
Then lean over, tug up that sinful shirt to expose her slick pussy, and feast.
“Maliki?” she whispers, her big blue eyes blinking. “You’re… glaring at me.”
“No, trouble, I’m admiring you,” I correct her, my voice gruffer than intended. But I don’t bother clearing my throat. “You’re eating that pizza in a way that’s making me want to eat you.”
Her cheeks pinken, her full lips forming a surprised little O.
Which doesn’t help matters at all. Because now all I want to do is press my tip to her mouth, force those lips to widen for me, and demand that she suck.
I lean forward in my chair, a proposal lingering on my tongue, only for a loud knock to disturb the moment.
My eyes narrow at the door, and Sera freezes. “Keep eating, trouble,” I tell her as I stand. “In fact, I want that slice gone before I sit back down.”
Because otherwise I’m going to act on my urges.
I’ve never claimed to be a good man. Actually, I’m fairly certain I’ve claimed the opposite.
If her orgasm sets off a signal, I can just… shadow her elsewhere.
Not a fantastic plan.
But it’s one I consider heartily as I walk toward the bedroom door.
Except the being waiting in the hallway has me reconsidering all my ideas and reevaluating my will to live. Because Hades’s dark gaze holds a note of fury that very rarely ends well for the object of his ire.
Which appears to be me since he’s glowering in my direction.
I lean against the door frame and lift a brow. “Yes?” I drawl, not willing to bow to his mood.
He’s the one who told me to please his wife. Not my fault if he’s having regrets over it.
Because now that I’ve tasted her, I’m not all that inclined to stop.
“I need to mist back to the Netherworld Kingdom,” he tells me, his voice low. “Morpheus is meeting me there. I just wanted to let you know that you’re in charge of protecting our Omega.”
“Our?” I repeat, my eyebrow winging higher.
“I’m not here to debate semantics. I’m here to give you a task—guard.” He takes a step back. “My beast is roaming the beach with Pip. If there’s an issue, Pip will notify you.”
I stare at him, waiting for more. “Is that it? You’re not going to tell me what to do if there’s a problem?”
He shrugs. “I trust you.”
“So I can take her wherever I want?” I push, curious as to why I’m being given so much freedom and faith.
Sure, Hades usually lets me manage my own assignments. But Sera is no ordinary assignment.
“Yes” is all he says. No elaboration. No context. Just an affirmative.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he echoes. “But be very careful, Maliki. No matter where you go, I’ll know. And trust me when I say I will follow you. Always.”
With that cryptic load of Styx, he disappears.
My jaw ticks. “Arse.”
Shutting the door, I return to find Sera standing with her hands twisting in front of her. “Everything okay?” she asks.
“No,” I reply, leaning back against the paneled wood behind me and sliding my hands into my pockets. “You’re still looking far too edible in that shirt.”
She glances down and frowns. “You gave this to me to wear.”
“Yes. And now I’m having regrets.”
Her brow furrows more, then she slowly looks back up at me. “I see.” Her features smooth over, and a new side of her awakens, one that has me instantly intrigued. Because I can see the shift in her face, the way her lashes lower coyly as she asks, “Would you prefer I wear nothing?”
Mmm, she’s flirting now.
I like this.
I like it a lot.
“Honestly?” I take in the dark fabric and her exposed lower limbs.
“No.” I push off the door and saunter toward her.
“Having the shirt on gives me something to play with, sweet mystery.” I grab the fabric in my fist and yank her toward me, just so she knows what I mean. “It also gives me something to remove.”
I lean down and brush my lips over hers.
“Or maybe it’s the barrier I need,” I go on. “Because Morpheus says I can’t make you come again. Not yet. Even though you’re apparently going to beg me to do so.”
He gave me a few important highlights regarding an Omega’s heat, how they lose their minds with lust and demand satisfaction.
But it’s so much deeper than that.
They need to be full of seed.
Worshipped by their mates.
Driven to climax over and over until they pass out.
Only for it to begin anew the moment the Omega wakes.
Shadows, I want that.
With Sera.
Except it’s not time yet.
“Now that her sexual spirit has risen, she’s going to become more… explorative,” Morpheus warned me in the kitchen. “Be prepared to guide her. She’ll need your expertise.”
He didn’t elaborate on what that means, but the way Sera is melting against me now tells me all I need to know.
She’s not mine to please. Not mine to cherish. Not mine to kiss.
But death it, I don’t bloody care about anything other than her. Her wants. Her needs. Her desire.
My grip on her shirt tightens, my opposite hand going to her hair. “Do you want to play, trouble?” I ask, my lips so fucking close to hers that it physically hurts not to close the distance between us. However, we have to discuss this first.
Because there are limits to what we can do.
We’re safe here so long as her inner Omega doesn’t send off another flare.
Sera presses her palms to my shirt, her nails digging into my pectoral muscles through the thin fabric. “I want you to kiss me, Maliki,” she whispers. “Really kiss me.”
“I believe I already did that, mystery,” I murmur. “I thoroughly kissed you.”
She shakes her head. “I mean on my mouth.”
I know that’s what she meant, but I couldn’t help teasing her.
“Will you please be my first real kiss?” she asks, and the question has me realizing all over again how innocent the female is.
It’s not usually a characteristic I desire, but with her… it just fits.
She’s a Goddess.
A being of impossibilities.
A woman who redefines the meaning of temptation.
And she wants me to kiss her.
Who am I to say no?
Tightening my grip on her shirt and in her hair, I close the gap between us and firmly press my lips to hers. She shivers against me, her body seeming to melt into mine.
It’s a chaste embrace.
One that belies the tension building inside me. The feral hunger. The intrinsic need.
But this is about her and her fantasies.
I want to make every dream of hers come true.
Only, her moan destroys my best intentions.
It’s a soft hum, one that echoes around us and dismantles every ounce of self-control I possess.
Because I need to hear that sound again.
Styx, I need to taste it. Own it. Embolden it.
My hand leaves her shirt and goes to her hip, my other palm sliding down to her nape, as I pull her flush against me.
Then I deepen our embrace by parting her plump lips with my tongue.
And groan as she clutches me with her hands. Almost like she’s afraid I might let her go.
But I’m pretty sure she’s stuck with me now.