35. Paxton
35
Paxton
“ I
’ve got to go,” Sterling says, with a heavy sigh. My eyes dart over to him, and watch as he starts grabbing his things from the coffee table.
Emme’s grip tightens on my arm under the blankets, as if she thinks I’m going to leave.
“At this time of night?” Uri asks, looking at the clock above the mantle. “I’ve got a meeting in a couple of hours with the legal team in Taiwan—time zones are a nightmare.”
“You should probably go lie down for a few hours then,” Emme says, giving Uri a tentative look. “I’ll stay up to wake you.”
“You will not ,” Oscar interjects, shaking his head. “I’ve got a few things to get through anyway. You’ll go to bed with Paxton, and Uri will go to his own bed.”
“Oh, you’re dictating the sleeping arrangements now, are you?” I ask, smirking at him.
Oscar nods. “Emme needs a good night’s rest, or it’ll destabilise her. Uri will wake her up when he gets up for his meeting, and that will ruin her good night sleep.
“Sterling’s clearly got to go chase some bad guys or some shit?—”
“An alarm was tripped at the office that I need to go check on,” Sterling says.
“And you’re doing fuck all, so you can take our mate to bed,” Oscar says, ignoring Sterling.
“What kind of alarm?” I ask, raising a brow.
Sterling shrugs. “Not one of the big ones, or I’d have called backup already. Could just be a tech glitch, but it’s on the list of sensitive floors, so I need to physically clear it.”
Uri grunts, his fingers tapping against the sofa. “Need me to delay my meeting? I can come in with you and help secure the place.”
Sterling shakes his head as he finishes buckling his watch. “Nah. If it’s serious, I’ll call you in. If it’s not, I’ll be back before the kettle’s boiled.”
Emme still hasn’t loosened her grip on my arm.
Her fingers twitch against my sleeve like she’s afraid I’ll slip away while she’s distracted. I shift slightly, pulling her closer under the blanket, and press a kiss to her temple—small, grounding. For her. For me.
“Nobody is boiling the kettle for you,” Oscar says.
“Yeah, yeah,” Sterling mutters. He strides forward, crouching down in front of Emme. “I’ll sneak into your nest once I’m back, okay?”
She grins, leaning towards him without moving from my grasp. “Be safe.”
He presses a kiss to her lips, says her goodbyes to the rest of us, and then heads out.
Uri rises next, dragging a hand through his hair. “I’m going to lie down for a bit before the meeting, then. Wake me if the building explodes. Or if you need me.”
“No promises,” I mutter. His gaze flashes to mine, and a knowing look fills his face. He grins, and I roll my eyes.
Asshole.
Uri leans down to kiss Emme’s head, but she tilts her head to capture his lips instead. Greedy girl.
I fucking love it.
“Rest, omega,” he demands. “Be good for Pax.”
She nods, but barely. Her eyes track him until he disappears down the hallway, and I know that the spike of anxiety in her scent is because half of her pack has left her in a matter of minutes.
Oscar lingers, but just like Emme, I can see his agitation. He’s anxious to get started on whatever his brain is screaming at him to do. He doesn’t fidget, which is unlike him, but I can see him calculating how long he’s going to be stuck here.
“You can go through and work,” Emme says, before I can formulate a way out of this. “I don’t mind—honest.”
“You’re anxious.”
“So are you,” she counters. “I’ve got Paxton here with me, and I’ll be going to sleep. I won’t be anxious when I’m in dreamland.”
Oscar nods, his expression tightening. I know that’s because to him—dreamland is the cause of most of his panic attacks.
“I’ll be in the study,” he says at last, eyes locking with mine. “Text if you need me.”
“I’ve got her,” I promise, and he nods once. He moves out of the room, and when Emme whimpers, he freezes. I glance down at my omega, but her eyes are locked on the door where Oscar just left.
“Shit, sorry,” Oscar says, spinning on his heel and rushing back in. He drops to his knees in front of us, like it’s an instinct, not a rational thought.
“I didn’t mean to leave like that,” he says, voice low, rough with guilt. “That’s not?—”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, shaking her head as a tear trails down her cheek. “This is ridiculous.”
“No you’re not ridiculous. It’s me. I’m trying not to hover, or push and I just—” His jaw clenches together, his eyes raking over her face.
“You’re not,” she breathes, already leaning toward him. I feel like I’m intruding on their moment, but she doesn’t make any effort to pull away from me.
Oscar doesn’t even glance my way, not a single care in his world about my presence. He cups the back of her head and kisses her gently—her forehead first, then her lips, then the swell of her belly through the blanket.
It’s so fucking cute, and I know that the two of them are completely and utterly back in harmony.
“I love you,” he says quietly. “Go to bed with Paxton. Let him take care of you. I’ll see you in the morning.”
With one more tight squeeze, he reluctantly rises to his feet.
“Sleep well, love,” he says, before leaving. The door clicks shut behind him, and finally— finally —we’re alone.
I shouldn’t be as happy about that as I am, but honestly, I’ve been craving some actual alone time with my mate since seeing her in that meeting earlier.
She dominated, and left no room for error. Then her vulnerability in the car, her openness in the restaurant… she’s wowed me all day long.
I just need some alone time, so I can make sure she understands that.
“You’re staying?” she asks quietly, like she doesn’t quite believe it.
“Of course I’m staying,” I murmur. “I go where you are tonight.
She grins. “Then can we go up to my nest? I’m exhausted, and would much prefer cuddles in there.”
I grin, lift her into my arms, and carry her through the house before she changes her mind. I place her down in the bathroom connected to her bedroom, the bright white lights a little harsh for her sleepy state.
“Get yourself ready for bed. I’ll be back in a minute,” I murmur. She nods, rubbing her eyes, before closing the door after me.
I jog to my own ensuite, brush my teeth at lightning speed, and splash some water on my face. I don’t bother with clean clothes, knowing my thief of a mate will want to steal the ones I’m wearing for her nest, and get back to her bedroom.
She’s not out yet, so I prepare the bedroom. I close the curtains, turn off the big lights, and flick on the fairy lights that Oscar got installed. I don’t know if she’ll be happy about them, but he promised that she would want them.
Omegas are extremely sensitive and possessive over their nests, though.
The door opens and I swear the world stops turning.
She’s standing bare in the doorway—unapologetically, breathtakingly naked—and for a moment, I just stare. I don’t blink, don’t even breathe. I just take her in.
Her long, wavy hair tumbles over her shoulders, framing those icy blue eyes that could bring empires to their knees. Her skin glows under the soft lights. It’s smooth and pale, flushed with something that has an almost feral feeling clawing at the inside of my chest.
The bare neck is so fucking erotic, and my gums start to burn.
She’s elegant. Every inch of her—slim, graceful, so achingly delicate—looks like it was carved by someone who wanted to ruin me.
And they succeeded.
There’s a soft dip at her waist that leads to gentle hips, and a bump that’s barely there but already my favourite thing in the world. I can’t wait until it’s fuller, until she has to waddle to walk, and there’s so much more of her body to love.
Her breasts… fuck, they’re perfect. Full, high, and just begging to be touched. Every day, they’re growing, filling out, preparing for our child.
I want to move towards her, to lather her with my touch and attention. I want to worship her body, like it was designed for me to do.
But I don’t move.
I can’t breathe.
I just can’t comprehend that she’s mine.
She coughs softly, trying to cover her nerves, and that’s when I see it—how her blush travels down her throat, across her chest, like she doesn’t know the effect she has on me.
She’s embarrassed to have the full weight of my attention.
Silly omega.
Doesn’t she realise she always has?
“Nest, or bed?” I ask, thickly. My lust is hard to ignore, and her scent perfuming makes it near impossible.
“Nest.”
We climb into her nest together—her hand gripping mine, her body pressing close the second we settle in. She’s warm, and everything feels perfect.
The fairy lights cast everything in a soft golden glow, and for a few perfect seconds, I just hold her.
“Who got these for me?” she asks, gesturing to the lights above.
“Oscar.”
She smiles, and I immediately relax. She’s not upset. She’s happy .
“He noticed,” she muses.
“He always does.”
“So, we never really talked about sex as part of the courtship,” Emme says, coyly. She bites her lip, and I swear to all that is holy, my cock literally floods to life in less than a second.
Rock-hard, gushing pre-cum, and ready to fuck my omega.
“We didn’t.” I shift slightly, not wanting her to feel the raging erection that is so close to pressing into her. “Do you want to discuss some boundaries?”
“Not boundaries, no.”
She shakes her head, moving to a sitting position. The blanket is shoved from her, and I can smell her slick. If this is what nectar tastes like, I understand why so many mortals died after consuming it.
She’s so damn alluring.
So fucking sexy.
“Some rules?” I ask.
Another head shake, this one faster. Fast enough to move her body with it, and her breasts jiggle. She spreads her legs, her scent growing more potent, and my cock actually aches it’s so hard.
“Want to explain it to me, then little treasure? I think I’m at a loss.”
She licks her lower lip, and I just snap.
I surge forward, pinning her back into the nest with one hand braced beside her head, the other gripping her thigh to keep her spread open. I don’t kiss her—yet. I just stare down, drinking in every inch of flushed skin and trembling anticipation.
Her blue eyes are wide and expressive, her scent dripping with her desperate need. She wants this—wants me .
“You’re not allowed to look at me like that,” I growl, my voice low and rough. “Not unless you’re ready for what it does to me.”
Her breath hitches, and she nods, her scent thickening, her slick dripping.
“You think I don’t notice the way you looked at me when you walked into this room?” I press my nose to her neck, dragging it slowly down the curve of her throat to her chest, where her heartbeat pounds wild and frantic. “You’ve been driving me mad for weeks, little omega, and I think today you’ve shown me how much I’ve done the same to you.”
I kiss the place just over her heart and she grips my hair in her hand, shoving my head into her more. She’s angling underneath me, trying to get me to brush against her breast.
Little tease.
“No, omega,” I say, shaking my head. I pull back ever so slightly, watching the rise and fall of her chest. “Tonight, you’re mine. Mine to love, mine to devour, mine to worship .”
I trail kisses all over her bare skin. Her collarbone. The valley between her breasts. Her soft, growing belly. I tease her waistline, not going any lower.
I kiss every inch of her like it’s sacred.
Because it is.
Because she is.
“I want you to remember this,” I murmur against her skin, my breath hot where my mouth lingers. “Every time you question your worth. Every time you overwork yourself. Every time you think you have to prove something to us.”
I press my lips to her bump.
“You’re already everything.”
When I finally look up at her again, her eyes are glassy with tears, but she’s smiling. Her scent is a mixture between arousal and love, and it’s clear she’s actually listening to me.
“Tell me what you want,” I say, gripping her thighs and dragging her closer to the centre of the nest. “Because whatever it is, I’ll give it to you.”
Her lips part, breath catching, before she admits the truth. “I want you.”
My growl vibrates through the room.
“You already have me.” I lower myself between her legs, kissing my way down her soft belly until I reach the slick heat of her core. I don’t tease. I don’t hesitate. I just groan as I bury my face in her like I’ve been starving for her.
Because I have.
She moans my name, her fingers tangling in my hair as I lick and suck her clit.
It’s what I was put on this world for—worshipping her and bringing her pleasure.
Her thighs shake around my shoulders, hips grinding against my mouth, and I grip her tighter, holding her still so I can take more and more from her.
I won’t give in.
I won’t stop, not until she’s cum all over my tongue.
“You taste like heaven,” I pant against her. Her hands tighten, my words adding to her pleasure. “Like lavender and heat. Like you’re mine .”
Her slick is everywhere, and it drives me wild. My cock is so hard it hurts, trapped against the fabric underneath me, but I don’t move.
I don’t chase my own pleasure. I can’t.
I won’t.
Not until she breaks for me.
Not until she screams my name.
“Pax, I’m close,” she groans, and I don’t know if she’s warning me so I can move away, or begging me to keep going.
I don’t have a chance to change anything. Her orgasm hits fast— sharp and beautiful —and I don’t let up. I lick her through it, over and over, until she’s gasping and whining and begging for a break.
Only then do I pull back, licking my lips like a man possessed. She’s everything. Laid out, spread open.
I could look at this vision every single day, and never grow sick.
“You’re so perfect,” I murmur, crawling up her body and kissing her hard. She pushes her tongue into my mouth, desperate for more. She loves the taste of herself mixed with me.
And I love it too.
“I need more,” she begs, rocking her body underneath me. She whines, loud and empty. “Please, alpha, please. I need you. I need so much more of you.”
“You’re so responsive, little treasure. So fucking ready.”
She nods. “I am. Please, I am.”
I press the tip of my cock against her slick entrance, but I don’t push in. Not yet. I don’t want to take it, not without knowing what she wants.
If she wants it slow and steady, I’ll do it.
If she wants me to ravage her—I’m her man.
But whatever she needs, it’ll be given with all the love my heart can offer. Because my soul is hers.
“I want to go slow,” I whisper, pressing my forehead to hers. Her eyes fly open, and her arms wrap around my neck. “You deserve slow. You deserve to be worshipped.”
“I love slow,” she groans, trying to move her hips to take more of me inside her. “But I can’t. I need you to fuck me, alpha. I need all of you.”
“I swear to every god out there, Emmeline—if you beg me to fuck you, I will lose every ounce of control I have. Don’t beg. Don’t do it. Let me love you like you deserve.”
She gasps, and her scent tells it all. My mate lifts her hips in invitation, and she flutters her long lashes. My heart stops, just for a second.
“Please, Paxton,” she whispers, her breath catching on a whimper. “Please fuck me.”
And just like that, my control is gone .
I groan as I sink into her with one fast, deep thrust. The tip of my seeping cock brushes against something inside her, and she screams as an orgasm already overtakes her.
Her fingers claw at my shoulders, at my back, at every part of skin she can reach, but I don’t move. Not yet.
I give her body time to adjust to the stretch, the fullness, the claim of it. I let her enjoy her pleasure, before I give her more and more.
“Gods, you’re tight,” I growl, my voice shaking from the restraint it takes not to lose myself in her. “Like you were made for me. Like this cunt was moulded just for my cock.”
Her walls flutter around me and I nearly lose it. But she’s not yet come down from her high. I can’t let myself give in just yet.
“That’s it, little treasure,” I murmur, brushing my lips over her scent gland. My gums burn, my teeth sharpening, ready to mark her.
But we can’t.
“You’re taking me so good, little treasure,” I murmur, moving away from her neck, just in case. “Are you ready for me to fill you? Ready for me to give you everything your greedy little pussy is asking for?”
She shivers and shakes, her head nodding yes, her whimpers and moans screaming it.
I start to move—fast, grinding thrusts that press deep, designed to make her feel every inch of me. I fucking love it. I love how warm she is, how tight she grips me.
How fucking right this all feels.
“I’ve thought about this,” I breathe, dragging my nose along her jaw, bitting and nipping as I go, “since the second I got a whiff of your scent.”
She moans, her legs wrapping around my waist. Words have failed her, and instead I get to hear her lovely little noises instead.
“Every time you’ve walked past me in those tight little skirts, and curve-hugging dresses, I’ve wanted to bend you over your desk and knot you until you forgot your own damn name.”
Her moan turns into a high-pitched whine, and I know I’ve hit a nerve. She’s desperate for that—a dirty fantasy I have no doubt my mate won’t ever let herself have.
“You want it, don’t you?” I hiss, fucking her a little deeper, a little harder now. “You want to be filled. Claimed. Bred.”
Oh, fuck. Bred.
Filling her with my seed.
Making her mine.
Completely and utterly.
My growl is louder than her moan. My hips move faster, my body pressing into her.
“Y-yes,” she gasps, her nails raking down my back hard enough to draw blood. I hope she has. I’ll wear her marks with pride. “Please, Paxton, I want it—I want your knot.”
I curse, slamming into her harder now, chasing the pulse I can feel building in my gut. She’s dripping, soaking the nest, her scent spiking and it’s so deliciously sweet.
My mouth waters, remembering the taste of her, but this time, I’m not pulling away. I won’t get to drink her down—I’ll be fucking her into oblivion instead.
“That’s my girl,” I whisper. “Good omega. Sweet, slick, perfect little mate.”
Her body starts to tighten, and I feel the stutter of her breath right before she crashes again—clenching around me with a cry of my name.
My thrusts go brutal, frantic, as I try to chase my own high. I reach down, rub tight circles over her swollen clit, and kiss her through the overwhelming pleasure.
“Gonna knot you now,” I groan against her lips. “Gonna lock us together so you never forget who you belong to.”
“Yes,” she whimpers. “Yes, yes—please.”
I slam into her one final time, and my knot swells, locking us together with a hard jerk of her hips and a scream of my name. The heat of her, the way she milks me—it wrecks me. I come with a growl ripped from my chest, pulsing deep inside her, marking her with every drop.
She clings to me, trembling, gasping, radiant in the aftermath.
I bury my face in her neck, panting against her scent gland, and whisper everything she deserves to hear.
“You’re everything. You hear me? Everything I never knew I needed. You’re strong, and brilliant, and mine.”
She purrs. Real, soft omega purring, and it vibrates straight through me.
“I’ve got you now,” I whisper, curling my body around hers, careful not to shift our locked hips. “No more working late. No more skipped meals. No more doing everything alone.”
She hums, sleepy and full. She’s completely content.
“I’m never letting you carry anything by yourself again,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Not when you’ve already given me the world.”
She melts into me, breath warm against my throat, her fingers curling lazily at my chest like she’s tethering herself to something solid.
To me.
I cradle her closer, one hand smoothing down her back in long, steady strokes. She’s still trembling slightly—aftershocks of the high I just dragged her through—and I can feel how overwhelmed her system is.
She’s pliant, boneless, dazed in the best way.
“You did so well,” I murmur, brushing my lips over her hairline. “Took me so sweet. Now let me take care of you.”
She doesn’t respond—just hums, soft and content—and the sound punches straight through my ribcage.
I adjust the blanket over her shoulders, tucking it around her like a barrier from the world. We’re still knotted, still connected, but she’s already drifting. My omega is fully at ease, purring faintly now, every line of her body soft and trusting.
She’s trusted me with her vulnerability. Her safety. Her heart.
I’ll never do anything to jeopardise that.
“I meant what I said,” I whisper against her skin. “No more carrying it all on your own. You don’t have to prove anything to us, Emmeline.”
Her lashes flutter, but she doesn’t open her eyes. Still listening, barely. I hope I reach her subconscious, and make that understand it doesn’t control my girl anymore.
Emme’s stronger without the dark thoughts that try to drown her.
“You’ve done enough. Been enough. You are enough.” I run my hand down to her belly, resting it there gently. “You’ve already given me more than I ever thought I’d have.”
She lets out a sleepy sigh, and her hand covers mine.
“I love you.”
And in the smallest, softest voice I’ve ever heard, she murmurs, “I love you too.”
We stay like this, wrapped in the glow of fairy lights and the comfort of skin and scent. She dozes off in my arms, her breathing slow and deep. My knot’s still snug, holding us together, and I’ve never felt so anchored. So needed.
So fucking in love.
The door creaks.
“Oh, fuck,” Oscar says, eyes wide. He rubs at them, exhaustion carved deep into every line of his body. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You’re not interrupting,” I reassure him. Emme is still passed out in my arms, and I brush a kiss to her forehead when she grumbles at the intrusion to her sleep.
Oscar’s eyes dart to her sleeping form, before they flick back at me. “I am. You’re knotted.”
“Yes.” I smirk. “Oscar, bro, you’ve seen my cock multiple times. This time, it’s buried in our girl and hidden from view. You’re fine.”
He crosses his arms in front of him, an awkward tension pouring from him. Not the norm for Oscar, considering most of the time he doesn’t realise when he’s overstepped.
“I don’t want to take from your first time.”
“This isn’t my first time,” I protest. I rub my eyes, the brightness from the passage straining my eyes. “Look, shut that light off, and get in here. We can continue this discussion once you’re settled.”
He rocks back and forth on his bare feet, not yet confident in making a move.
For fuck’s sake.
“Shut the light off,” I bark, startling the omega in my arms. Emme lets out a soft whimper, burrowing her head into me further. “Shh, little treasure, go back to sleep.”
Oscar disappears from the doorway, and a few seconds later, the room dims into a quiet comfort.
Thank fuck.
“There we go, close your eyes,” I soothe, cuddling her back into me. I stroke her back as she curls in tighter.
Her walls clench down around me without thinking, and I bite back my hiss of pleasure.
She’s exhausted—no heat in her scent, no desire in her body—just the lingering echo of safety.
I know that she doesn’t want to take this into another round.
I lay my head on the pillow, and let the vibrations of my purr soothe her back to sleep. She’s out within a few seconds, her soft breathing making me extremely happy.
“Why are you still standing here?” I whisper-shout at Oscar. “Come lay down. You’re dead on your feet.”
“You can’t be dead on your feet, unless something is holding you up.”
I growl low, glancing down at Emme to make sure I don’t disturb her. “Yes, yes. Logic boy. Just come to bed, Os. Please.”
“Should I take my clothes off?” He rubs the back of his neck, and the almond in his scent seems to sour with uncertainty. “You’re both naked, so I’d be the odd one out with clothes on, and I never normally sleep with clothes on if I can help it.
“But then I don’t want to be impulsive or overstep and panic Emme by not wearing clothes when she was only expecting you in here with her tonight.
“But if I keep them on, I won’t feel her heartbeat. And I might not sleep. But if I take them off and I get hard, she’ll think I’m coming onto her, and I’ve already done that once after one of these dreams and?—”
“Breathe,” I cut in sharply.
I never thought there’d be a day I would wish to not be knotted to my mate, but right now, that’s exactly what I want.
There’s no chance I can pull out of her to go and comfort Oscar, but there’s a desperate need for me to do that. I want to help him, hold him, comfort him.
I just can’t move.
“Take your clothes off, and come in here, now,” I say, and when he opens his mouth to argue, I shake my head. “No, just listen to me. Trust me, okay?”
He nods, gulping loudly. I move over slightly, bringing Emme with me, to make enough room for him, where there’s no bodily fluids.
I doubt he’d care when he’s this emotional, especially since Oscar tends to like our scents, but I also know he’s hypersensitive to touch when he’s this overwhelmed.
It only takes him a moment or two before he comes and joins me in the nest, and he’s very careful as he moves over to the open spot at her back.
“Do you want to talk about your dream?” I ask quietly.
He shakes his head. “Not really. It’s the usual. Emme and the baby… dead. Blood. Screaming. Me panicking.”
Fuck.
I wish he’d agree to go to therapy. That he’d let us help him work through his trauma, in an actual psychiatric way, rather than just being here when he has one of these dreams. Surviving isn’t the same as living, and Oscar… he’s letting his trauma keep him trapped in an eternal prison.
I wish I could take it from him. Ease the burden, even just for one night. But he’s not ready.
“Hold her. Remind yourself that she’s breathing, that our baby is okay. Smell her, know that she’s not bleeding, that no blood whatsoever is there.”
“Right now, all I can smell is the two of you,” he says, thickly. I don’t know if that’s because he’s turned on, or emotional.
Fucking scent neutraliser.
“Well, you are lying in a pool of your mate’s slick, so that’s probably to be expected,” I tease. “But the most important thing is that you don’t smell blood, right?”
“Right.”
“And that’s what you need to remember. She’s here. She’s safe, and between the two of us, we’ll know if anything changes.”
“Okay,” he says, softer this time. “Okay. Last time, I didn’t sleep.”
“Then I’ll be here awake with you, for every minute you’re unable to sleep,” I promise.
His head turns, and he meets my eyes in surprise. “Really?”
“When have I ever not?”
A hint of a smile ghosts his lips. “Thank you.”
I reach over to squeeze his shoulder. “You’re welcome. Now cuddle Emme, and rest your eyes. Even if you can’t sleep, you can relax and calm your body down from the adrenaline rush it’s just endured.”
Oscar shifts closer, his arm curling protectively around Emme, brushing against my stomach. He buries his face in her hair, and I watch as his whole body exhales.
It doesn’t take long for him to drift off, even though he claimed he wouldn’t manage. He’s struggling, but I know that we’re getting there.
We’ll make it through this uncertainty, and soon enough, we’ll be living our best life.
Happy. Thriving.
Together.