Chapter Nineteen #2
I pinned his hips down, stilling him.
“Wha—” He started to lash, desperate to regain the elation I’d snatched away, but useless against my strength. “You . . . fucking bastard.”
“You crave a knot even when you’re not yet in heat? Unbelievable.”
He growled, slumping, too loose-limbed to maintain the fight. His high had depleted. “Lotta judgement coming from a man whore like you,” he spat, huffing out frustrated breaths as his frame trembled and jerked with the denial of its peak.
“A man whore?” I parroted. Granted, I’d slept with my fair share of betas for my ruts or temporary relief, but that didn’t seem to be what he was referring to.
“I’ve noticed the way that assistant of yours makes ‘fuck me’ eyes at you,” he clarified, his tone indignant. An undertone I couldn’t yet place. “Don’t pretend you haven’t tried him out. A pretty beta like that? You’re probably all over him.”
“Torin?” I probed, and he nodded, scowling.
Ah.
A smirk ticked the corner of my lips. “Are you jealous?”
“Don’t get it twisted,” he denied, scoffing. “Just making an observation.”
“You’re very perceptive,” I praised, deciding to test the limits of his tolerance.
I loosened my hold on his hips in favour of roving my hand up his spine again.
He arched into the touch, despite his irritation.
“I have fucked him. His mouth, his hole. His screams are too shrill for my liking, but he’s very eager to please. ”
He fussed, his scent deepening. “I don’t care.”
“No?” I raised an eyebrow, though he couldn’t see it. I pressed into his favourite tender spot at the side of his neck. “So you won’t care that I haven’t fucked him, or anyone else, since you arrived here? Haven’t felt the need or desire to.”
Pause. “No.”
I chuffed faintly at the trace of doubt. “Alright then.”
Another beat of silence.
“Have you fucked all your staff, or just him?”
“Well, by your standards, I’m a man whore, so why don’t you guess?
” I teased, and he sneered, whipping his head in the opposite direction.
I wouldn’t deny it, this was entertaining, but it would be counterproductive for him to lose the tranquillity he’d gained, the sense of security.
Especially with how prone omegas were to feelings of rejection during their cycles.
“Only Torin. It stopped a long time ago.”
After a moment, he nodded once, appeased. Though he’d never admit it.
“Should I ask for your sex history?” I hummed.
“Or can I make you come now?” I already knew the extent of his experiences.
Me. No others. I had expected one or two, given how well he’d taken me into his throat on our first meeting, but as it happened, he simply possessed a natural talent for sucking cock—rather, his enthusiasm for it eclipsed any underlying fault in his skills.
I’d admit, I acknowledged his envious streak. I might’ve felt the same agitation were the roles reversed.
For no other reason than an unwillingness to share.
“I should throw you out of my nest.”
“That’s your prerogative,” I concurred. “But you won’t.”
He gazed back at me, his expression flat. “You’re so sure of yourself.”
“We both know it would be a waste,” I said, dipping forward, grazing my lips against the shell of his ear. A breath escaped him. “Since you built it to impress me.”
He stiffened, but recovered quickly, batting at the air beside his head.
He missed.
“You’re such a twat.”
“And yet, I’m still here.”
He groaned, and began to rise onto his elbows.
He didn’t get any further as my arm scooped under him, lifting and manoeuvring until he straddled my thigh.
He yelped, swaying and gripping my shoulders to steady himself.
I palmed his arse, spreading my legs wider to give him room to lower himself, sitting flush on my thigh.
“What are you doing?” he asked, sceptical from my earlier manhandling.
“Nothing. You’re going to be doing it.” His brow creased, though his eyes sparked with noticeable intrigue. “Get yourself off on my thigh. Properly this time.”
He scoffed. It held no conviction, given how he’d swallowed heavily first. “Rut against you like a horny dog for your amusement, you mean?”
I hummed. “That association didn’t stop you three minutes ago.”
His cheeks deepened in colour. “What I do during my heats is beyond my—”
“You’re not in heat,” I corrected bluntly, much to his chagrin. “Plus, you had no qualms about bucking against me like a dog in Foresters’ changing room.”
A dry look passed over his face. “Fuck you.”
I slipped my hands from his arse, planting them on the bed behind me, reclining back. “Don’t act all shy now,” I said. “We both know that’s not your style.”
He bared his teeth, and for a split second, I suspected he might refuse just to be difficult. Instead, with his eyes remaining on me, he used his clutch on my shoulders for purchase and gave an experimental roll of his hips. A quivering moan left his mouth.
“There you go,” I encouraged. “Make yourself feel good.”
He increased to a steady rhythm, a gentle drag.
His lashes fluttered, his chest rising and falling with evenly paced breaths.
The firm line of his cock brushed over the length of my thigh, rucking up my trousers on the upstroke and smoothing them out on the retreat.
My fingers flexed against the mattress, and my dick pulsed.
I’d been hard from the moment I’d smelled his scent in the corridor, but had resolved to ignore it.
It was proving a challenge now, watching him take his pleasure.
His throat and cheeks were flushed pink, his unruly hair framed his face, and I could almost detect the pulse in his neck quickening.
Throbbing. He tilted his head, a glimmer of mischief in his expression as he released a gust of pheromones.
He was goading me, as he did best, displaying his scent gland and untouched mating mark.
My teeth itched.
“I told you to get yourself off,” I reminded him, my voice a low rumble. “Not taunt me into doing it for you.”
“Then resist me,” he said, his body rolling with deliberation, putting on a performance, a seduction. I fortified my control, combating the urge to flip him onto the bed and mount him in the middle of his nest. Drench it in the essence of us.
That could wait.
I awarded him his captive audience, staring directly into his eyes, demanding his attention rest solely on me.
He buckled under the intensity of it, instantly regretting his penchant for insolence.
His throat bobbed, his breathing wavered, and his expression suggested faint embarrassment.
He tore his gaze away, eyes screwing shut.
I didn’t like it.
One of my hands shot to his throat without thought, forcing his face to turn back. “Look at me,” I growled, fingers squeezing. His eyes opened. “Good boy.”
He groaned, long and loud, his hips stuttering. “Fuck.”
My balls tightened. “You like that, don’t you? Being good for me.”
He glared, though its ferocity was minimized by his enraptured brow scrunch. “You really think you deserve my obedience, Alpha?” He bit out the title like a curse. It only served to fuel my lust.
“It’s irrelevant what I think. You don’t give your submission to me because I’m an Alpha.
You choose to. That’s been your conviction since the day we met, hasn’t it?
” My free hand wandered up his thigh, up and up until I reached his clothed pec, kneading it roughly.
He groaned, his jaw slack. “You snarl and bite, challenge me at every turn. You don’t want to be at the mercy of instinct.
You rebel against it, and you want me to prove I can handle it all, that I can take every swipe of your claws, every insult from your sharp tongue.
” I hauled him closer by his throat, nipping at his chin.
He wasn’t handing over control. He was in control, and he knew it.
We both did. “I’ve earned the right to turn you into a compliant mess. Don’t pretend otherwise.”
“Then do it,” he gasped, and a dominant urge flared in me.
“Take off your shirt.” I released his throat, and with his hips still moving, he peeled it over his head without complaint, discarding it on the floor.
I hummed in both satisfaction and amusement.
“See,” I rasped, trailing my knuckles along his birthing scar, his belly jumping under my fingers.
“You built your nest all plush and enticing, and now you’re doing whatever I ask. Such a good little omega. Just for me.”
There was no glare, he just relented to the facts and whimpered, churning his hips faster.
It had to hurt, the skin chafing against the fabric, but he craved it, doing exactly what he’d been instructed.
My hands bracketed his waist, feeling the muscles work as he undulated.
The edges of his ribs weren’t as visible as before, only bulging through the skin when he sucked in an urgent breath or arched his back.
He was so soft under my fingertips. Biteable. The gaps between his tattoos were unblemished, the previous marks I’d left long since faded.
I was eager to see them again.
I leaned in, dragging my tongue over his nipple exactly how he liked it, drawing out a bone-deep shiver.
His hips faltered in their rhythm as my mouth latched onto the bud.
His hands lifted to the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair and gripping tight, rooting me in place.
He bucked against me as best he could, his upper body still, allowing me to bite and swirl my tongue around him, sucking until he whined. “Caine . . .”
I was only slightly disappointed they weren’t full.
I withdrew, huffing at his noise of protest. “You like your tits being played with, don’t you?” I reached up, pinching the now swollen bud between my thumb and forefinger. He mewled weakly, his hands dropping to my shoulders again. “So sensitive. I could make you come just by touching them.”
“Yes.”