Chapter 29 All the Whiskey
All the Whiskey
Davidson
Altera’s death made the news as an inexplicable accident. Cross River washed up his body below the park’s borders, and they found his car miles away with his suit, shoes, and underwear neatly placed in the trunk. It must have been where he’d shifted before flying to my house.
The discovery baffled the public. The coroner’s office couldn’t find any signs of a fight or use of a weapon.
The somewhat strange back injuries were assigned to the body being dragged through the river among rocks and debris.
But why was he in Ardaine in the first place?
How did he get from his car to the river?
Did he hike through the woods and fall into the water?
Why was he naked? Had he been abducted by aliens?
Was it a ritual suicide? Was he lifted by a tornado while doing naked yoga in a meadow?
The media storm would have been almost entertaining if it hadn’t made Leo so anxious. I assured him the authorities would never find a connection to any of us since Altera had acted solely from the air and in dragon form, and I was right. The police never even contacted Leo at all.
Then Altera’s offshore accounts and connections to illegal arms trade came to light, causing outrage.
Assumptions flew around about organized crime or even the involvement of foreign powers, but most commentators seemed to agree he got what he deserved.
A mere couple of months after his death, once one of the most powerful men in Dalton City was forgotten, much to the relief of his former political allies.
One morning, Devon Hassel visited me at my office downtown.
Behind closed doors, he related the story of Gavino, a dragon alpha born fifty years ago in a village in the Italian Alps to the wealthy, influential Di Moze family.
At merely twenty-one, he’d married an eighteen-year-old omega named Paolino in an opulent, televised wedding in Riva del Garda.
Two years later, Gavino and Paolino Di Moze were involved in a tragic sailing accident close to the Sardinian coast. Only Paolino’s body was found.
Local newspapers speculated about murder, but the police never named a suspect, and the coroner’s findings were inconclusive.
In accordance with Italian law, Gavino was pronounced dead ten years later, and the case was closed for good.
Hassel had left me with old tabloid photographs from the famous Di Moze wedding. In the evening, I showed them to Leo.
“So his mate died, and he disappeared.” Leo’s voice sounded hollow.
“If they were mated. But since the family obviously supported the match, they probably were.”
“That’s why he was like that? Because he lost his mate?”
“I don’t think so. While losing a mate or a child is the most soul-destroying thing a dragon can experience, when it happens, the dragon can heal. Some even find a second mate years later. But Altera was what we call a crow.”
“A crow?”
“A rogue dragon who doesn’t respect the most fundamental rules like safety, secrecy, and family bonds, and thus becomes a threat to everyone. They are extremely rare, and I’ve only met one before, up in Canada. He attacked a colleague of my father’s in midair. But that was two decades ago.”
“Do you think Fabio killed his first husband, and that’s why he had to disappear?”
“I don’t know, Leo. Maybe? Maybe it was an accident.”
Leo pointed at one of the old pictures. “He’s the same height, but otherwise he barely looks like Fabio.”
“Hassel said it’s not one hundred percent sure it’s the same man, but it’s highly probable.”
After poring over the copies for a few more minutes, Leo put them aside, facedown. “Can we throw them out?”
“Sure. Whatever you want.”
He leaned closer, and I wrapped my arm around his shoulders.
“I barely think about him anymore,” Leo murmured, snuggling into my side.
“That’s good.”
Kissing his hair, I exhaled. Finally, we could leave the past behind.
It was almost scary how fast our life became normal.
I loved my mornings with Leo, especially since we’d adopted the habit of waking each other up in various sexual ways.
If he woke up earlier than me, he’d suck me to consciousness or even sit on my dick.
I would tease his nipples, shove my tongue inside him, or, if he was wet from a dream, I’d slide my cock into him, and he’d wake up on a groan of pleasure.
Then we showered and made breakfast together—I never used to eat first thing in the morning, but as I adjusted to the needs of my pregnant mate, breakfast became the most important meal of my day.
Usually, we would drive to the city together, my driver and Leo’s bodyguard in the front and Leo cuddling me in the backseat.
We’d part ways in front of the office, which was my most hated moment of our routine.
Hence, I got snappy at work again. Leaving Leo alone for hours on end made me irritable, but maybe I would get used to it. One day.
If I could, I’d chain him to me and drag him with me everywhere.
But my brilliant mate had his own career and aspirations.
Suddenly, every other agency in Ardaine wanted to have Leonard Chase modeling new lines of preggo jeans and whatnot.
When he didn’t have photoshoots scheduled, he worked from home, taking care of his businesses back in Dalton City.
He would eventually branch out to Ardaine, but he wanted to wait until after our child was born.
He also spent some of his free time redecorating—just small things here and there that made me smile when I noticed.
A new lamp appeared in the atrium, a bright yellow armchair replaced the black recliner in the living room, and colorful pillows dotted the sofa.
The house already looked more like a home with the few changes he’d made.
As Leo got busier with work, I vowed to support him in whatever he decided to do—I only drew the line at evening gigs. Leo happily agreed, and his agent promised to never book photoshoots later than three in the afternoon.
Still, we were separated for at least seven hours a day. How had I become so codependent? I hated when I couldn’t feel him next to me.
I did appreciate the lingerie photos Leo did, though. His sweet little belly, barely four months along, framed by silk and lace, was what I dreamed about for days after I’d seen the pictures. I had a few saved on my phone.
Today, time at the office was dragging at a snail’s pace, and after an especially long and annoying board meeting, I was ready to sell everything and move to the mountains with Leo.
Lawrence must have noticed my mood because he kept his distance, not even asking how Leo was doing.
He was barely waddling, poor boy, and seemed especially tired this afternoon. I sent him home early.
A new email pinged on my screen, and I clicked on the notification. From Leo? He never emailed me. It was encrypted, which made me nervous, but when I opened it, I laughed.
Since you liked the previous collection, I asked the photographer to make a couple of extra pictures for you.
Love you,
Your Eager Fuckhole
Attached were two images.
I got hard as a rock in a nanosecond. I happened to know the photographer for this particular campaign was an omega. Otherwise, I’d have felt genuinely sorry for the man.
Leo, in tiny black lace briefs and an open robe, lay on a black velvet sofa, one foot propped on the seat, the other on the floor, the outline of his cock clearly visible. His stomach curved deliciously, and his hand hovered just above his exposed nipples. His eyes were closed, lips parted.
In the second image, he was sitting up, looking straight at the camera.
Straight at me. There was desire in his eyes, and I knew he was thinking of me.
He was cupping his pec with one hand, hard nipple catching the light just right, and his other hand supported the small bump of his belly. His expression was undeniably sexual.
My Leo knew how to work his assets, and when he did it for me, he was the most beautiful.
I grabbed my phone and typed.
Me: I have received your email. Are you at home?
Leo: On my way.
Me: I’m packing my things now. When I come home, you’ll be waiting by the door, ready to please your Master.
Leo: I will. Thank you.
I loved that he thanked me for giving him orders.
When I burst through the door forty-five minutes later, I spotted Leo a few feet to the right.
He was on his knees, wearing only lace underwear and an open robe, suspiciously similar to the one he had on in the photoshoot.
He was cupping his chest with both hands, and on his nipples hung two silver clamps.
He didn’t look up, but a shiver ran through him.
I unzipped my pants and took my cock out.
Grabbing Leo’s hair with my left hand and holding myself around the base with the right, I slapped his cheek with my cock.
He opened his mouth on a small gasp, and I shoved my dick right into his throat.
He gagged but didn’t try to move away. I fucked his mouth ruthlessly, just the way he liked it, and he moaned between the choking sounds he made.
When I came, ridiculously soon, he swallowed everything and licked me clean.
“Look at me.”
His eyes were glassy, pupils blown, lips red. I could smell his slick, a clear sign of how needy he was.
“You’re a tease, omega. Sending me naughty pictures at work? We’re getting married in a few weeks. Is that how a good omega husband behaves?”
Leo swallowed and licked his lips, gazing up at me like a damned incubus.
“Yes, Master. A good omega husband gets wet anytime he thinks of his alpha. He loves nothing more than to kneel at his alpha’s feet. He’s a horny fuckhole, always hungry for his mate’s cock.”
I laughed. “Good answer.”
I offered him my hand, and Leo took it, letting me pull him up. He was hard in his tiny lace briefs.
“Dinner is ready on the dining table, Master.”
“Did you cook for me, omega?”