Chapter Four
CAINE
For two days, we fucked.
The omega’s heat would last longer than was normal as it was his first, which would’ve been rough regardless, but since he was older—late presenting—it was somehow even more hellish.
Even if I knotted him, the miracle remedy for a typical heat, it wouldn’t make a difference.
We would likely be confined to this room for another twelve hours, at least. A tangled mess of limbs.
Sweat, slick, and cum tainting the sheets.
The air fogged with a potent mix of pheromones and sex.
A manifestation of ecstasy that would likely saturate the entire space for fucking days.
The first twenty-four hours was the crest. He’d wasted too much time and energy being fussy, so when we finally fucked, he was so absorbed in sensation he was mindless, knocked sideways by the symptoms. It would’ve been like discovering a new high, an overwhelming euphoria he couldn’t come down from.
His body had to adapt to the rush, and all I could offer was temporary relief when he cried out for it.
The compliance and docility persisted . .
. for a while, barely a trace of his earlier spirit shining through.
He was disoriented by the hunger coursing through him, his biology taking the reins, and the only concept he could comprehend was the omegan impulse of pleasing his Alpha.
Nothing else mattered to him except rolling over and performing like the perfect little breeding hole to compel me into fucking his belly full.
It didn’t last.
Day two, and countless orgasms later, the feistiness that had intrigued me enough to stay was once again at the forefront.
His true nature. He still wasn’t fully coherent, wouldn’t have recognised me visually from any other Alpha on the street, but instead of the compulsion to mate dictating how he should act, it stripped everything back to the base.
Like alcohol, dulling his inhibitions and showing his unmasked personality.
He was tameable, but on his terms, and only if I played to his tune.
He didn’t give a shit that I was an Alpha and he was an omega, except in the sense that he knew I was the only cure for the ache.
It was . . . addictive.
With wickedness gleaming in his dark eyes, he goaded me into overpowering him, into giving him what he needed.
It stoked a fire in me, making him submit instead of it being an expectation.
The line between fucking and fighting blurred as he left scratches on my back to urge me deeper and my fingers bruised his hips until he behaved.
I mounted him in every position, on every surface, using toys, my fingers, my tongue to satiate the greedy little thing whenever my cock needed respite.
I never came inside him, which was a cardinal sin in his eyes, but he soon forgot about it whenever I took his dick into my mouth and shoved my fist and forearm into his hole.
It was entertaining, but I hated to admit the intensity of it was taking its toll.
My stamina was faultless—I’d trained hard to make it so—and being an Alpha, my virility spiked in close proximity to an omega in heat.
It gave me a boost in order to see him through it, ensuring I was continuously ready to take.
But . . . knowing it was now possible, it was becoming harder and harder to resist knotting him, harder to ignore the impulse inside saying he was mine. I was unravelling.
But I couldn’t stop.
I didn’t sleep. My body was on high alert.
I’d close my eyes whenever he lost consciousness between waves, falling into a trance that allowed me at least a moment to cool off.
I was woken from said state by a weight clambering into my lap, huffs of frustration reaching my ears as the omega sought my attention.
My cock was soft, but it perked up at the sounds and scent of a willing partner.
I jerked myself to hardness, gripping the base so he could sink down as he’d done numerous times already.
It still felt like fucking heaven.
He was frantic, bouncing in my lap with no rhythm or coordination, seeking an end to the torment. I palmed his arse, my feet planted on the bed as I thrust up to meet his wild undulations. He moaned and wept, his soft cock slapping against my stomach, entirely spent. Though his body still craved.
With a noise not entirely human, he collapsed forward, hand on the mattress as he dove for my neck. He bit into my shoulder—hard—thankfully missing the mating gland. An irritated snarl hissed between his teeth. “More . . .”
I scoffed. “You’re taking me to the root, what more could you want?”
“Scent.”
“More of my scent?” I clarified, voice strained, and he nodded, the movement lodging his teeth deeper into my skin.
“Are you going to release me first?” It was posed as a question, but he clearly sensed the warning underneath as he unlatched, tongue laving over the spot in apology. I released a fresh gust of my pheromones, and he shivered, eyes rolling into the back of his head. “You like how I smell?”
Another nod. “But—ngh—I need it inside, Alpha. Please. Fill me up with your cum. Breed me.” His lips brushed teasingly over my jaw. I could feel the smirk. “Or are you incapable?”
Little shit.
My arms circled his back, securing him to my chest as I pounded into him harder.
My balls tightened, but I kept going, determined to fuck the sass right out of him.
To leave him with no doubt of my capability.
I bucked up again and again, my nose half an inch away from the site of his most concentrated scent.
I had no choice but to swallow it down, letting it fuel the savage fixation warring inside me.
Every smack of skin on skin, every stilted breath licking my ear, obscured my senses, plunging me into a shroud of dense smoke. My eye screwed shut, my head spun. I had an omega on top of me who smelled of spring and pure, raw lust, wailing and thrashing like the pleasure was too much to handle.
My cock throbbed.
He felt good—hot, wet, and somehow still so fucking tight. His hole was shrinking, silken walls clamping down, making it impossible to—
My eye flew open.
“Shit . . .”
The omega growled, his nails digging into my pecs to pin me in place.
He was no match for my strength; I could flip him and pull out, but the base of my dick inflated to capacity at an alarming speed, locking us together before I had the chance.
Too far gone, I was loath to do anything except nudge it further inside, grunting and grinding against his arse until release punched through me and I flooded him with my cum.
The sensation of his hole clenching around my knot was immeasurable. It was pleasure, pain, and fulfilment all in one, and for a split second, as another stream of warmth surged up my spine, I understood why other Alphas slavered over it.
He sighed with relief, as if I’d scratched an itch he’d been suffering for too long.
He came dry, his limp cock twitching weakly, his muscles taut as he milked me for everything I had.
Our heavy breaths cut the silence, and he flopped onto my chest, shaking and nuzzling my shoulder possessively.
My teeth itched. So close to his throat, his mating gland, I’d barely have to crane my neck to make it permanent.
I could tear into his flesh until his pheromones burst on my tongue, binding him to me.
Make him mine so I could fuck him over and over and breed him full, day and night.
I clenched my jaw until it creaked, turning away and forcing the visions of him trussed up in my bed, his gaping hole dripping with cum, out of my head.
Fuck. I’d managed to hold off for two days.
Two fucking days, I’d defied the instinct clawing at my gut like a ravenous wolf.
I’d had no intention of going this far, no intention of knowing how it felt to thoroughly claim him.
There were precautions he could take, but it wasn’t the point.
I never thought I’d knot an omega, never expected my resolve to be so easily consumed by one either.
Even one who was unlike any I’d ever met before.
The omega moaned happily, and since we’d be tied for an hour, I rested a hand on his back, granting him comfort, which came unnaturally to me.
He fell asleep like that, loose-limbed and sated, though he woke up barely twenty minutes later, rocking on my knot until we were both coming again before passing out from exhaustion.
He was so full, his belly swollen with two loads of my spend, and I had to bite my tongue until it bled to punish myself for imagining it taking.
Six hours later, the scent of desperation dissipated, leaving only delicate notes of satisfaction and contentment.
His heat had finally broken.
I blinked awake, frowning at the absence of a headache in the space behind my patch. The omega was tucked under my arm, burrowed against my side, sleeping soundly. At peace.
I’d lain awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the next wave, but it hadn’t come.
His pheromones had gradually settled to a stable level.
He’d no longer burned to the touch. I’d sighed with relief and slipped out of bed, washed the worst of the last three days from his skin and offered him water—even when he’d grumbled unintelligibly.
He hadn’t opened his eyes, was no more than a ragdoll as I’d brushed a wet flannel over the marks I’d made, the evidence of my loss of control.
He’d drifted off again, falling into after-heat hibernation so his body could recover and regulate.
I remembered glancing at the wall clock, a little after two a.m. It would’ve been pointless leaving, so I’d climbed back under the sheets beside him, expecting to stay that way until dawn as sleep never came easily to me.
But I’d been wrong.
Clearly.
I looked down at the little creature, his nostrils flaring with soft snores, his hair in a shambles over the pillow.
A heaviness formed in my chest. He was covered in me, not an inch of him without a brand of my essence.
It would be days before he’d be free of the smell, weeks before the bruises faded, and a twisted part of me relished it, wanting to give him more to ensure it.
I could. Stay until he woke up, take him again and again while he was fully coherent just to taste the difference in him—
No.
There was nothing between us, no real desire.
Every thought, every notion was the product of our biology, and I was lured in by its ruse.
He was an experience I’d never had before, but now my curiosity was sated.
He was a hole, nothing more. Nothing special.
He might have shown defiance, but he was still the same as every other instinct-driven omega who would beg to be bred by another Alpha in his next heat, and the next, until one was finally caught in his web.
I had no interest in a mate, for commitment or convention, never had, and three days buried in his tight arse wouldn’t change that.
He was a mistake, a momentary lapse in judgement I’d forget as soon as I walked out the door.
I’d served my purpose and he had served his.
There was no reason to complicate a simple act of mutual gratification by lingering or indulging any more.
I eased out of bed, snatching my ruined shirt and trousers from the floor and dressing swiftly.
I had work to do, a pack to run, another civil fucking war to temper.
I’d already wasted valuable time staring at him like some obsessed puppy—there’d be no benefit for me wasting a second more.
I’d leave a message with Finn, to remind the omega to take the pill, and that would be the extent of my responsibility concluded.
I tugged my brace over my fingers, biting back a wince as they stretched uncomfortably into position. My gaze landed on the omega’s sleeping form, an incessant tightness still crowding my chest, souring any residual satisfaction. My hand balled into a fist at my side.
I left.