Chapter 11
Wren
I don’t think I’ve slept this peacefully since…
since before Felix and I started drifting apart.
As I open my eyes and squeeze the bedsheet under my hand with a satisfied sigh, I notice the space next to me on the bed is empty.
My entire body seizes. The sense of comfort is gone just like that, replaced by sheer and utter panic.
Leaping up to sit, I scan the room, seeing no one but that stupid bird, now sitting on the kitchen table.
Russell. I need to—
Relief hits me when the bathroom door opens and he comes out. My cheeks flush with embarrassment at how intense my reaction to him not being here was. I rub my face and wonder if we should open a window to let the pheromones out. They must be completely eroding my brain.
I am quickly and easily distracted by Rus coming toward the bed, wearing nothing but his boxers, rubbing his curly, glistening hair with a towel.
Even though I saw pretty much every inch of his body last night, I still can’t get enough. He’s so…commanding. So well-built. Seeing him like this takes my breath away and fills my mind with a single overwhelming thought: mine.
I study the scars I felt under my fingertips when I was far too distracted to pay proper attention to them.
I study the countless freckles on his chest and shoulders, blushing as I remember the lovely ones on his lower back that kept shining in front of me like a constellation.
And I also study the faint red marks I left on him, my fingerprints smudged on his skin.
All the memories of our passion and lust, of the tenderness between us, hit me at once, together with his almondy scent, right as he sits down on the bed next to me.
“Are you alright?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.
I resist the urge to touch his face. The worst of my horniness might be over, but my hormones are still raging and will be for the next day or two.
That’s all these intense feelings are, right? Just my rut. Pheromones. Lizard brain stuff…
Or maybe it’s the isolation, grief, and loneliness all mixed into one, made into something bigger by the gratitude I feel for Rus for everything he’s done for me. His concern. His understanding. The way he let me stay here without a second thought and did all he could to ease my pain.
“What’s on your mind?” he asks again. “Tell me.”
I blink, realizing I haven’t responded. Quickly, I smile and put my hair behind my ear. His brown eyes are soft and full of care. The fire he must have revived not that long ago leaves a beautiful orange hue on his skin.
“I’m alright. How do you feel?” I ask, guilt dampening my voice.
I might have gone a little overboard. Even with Felix, I always held back on the few occasions when it was my rut and he convinced me to try to go through it naturally.
Rus lets out a chuckle. “Just a lil’ sore,” he says, smirking.
“Me too.”
“Other than that?”
I purse my lips, finally allowing myself to touch his shoulder because I so want to. “I haven’t had sex this good in years, to be honest.”
Russell’s laughter makes my chest open up and my cock stir.
It really is something glorious.
“Same here,” he admits, averting his gaze briefly with a cute blush of shame on his cheeks.
“I’m happy that you seem a lot better.” He brings a hand to my face, rubbing my temple gently with his thumb.
“How are you…in here?” he asks, his eyes searching mine like he hopes to see through them into my brain.
Discomfort rises in me, tensing up my spine. “You…you didn’t do all that just to make me feel better, right? I mean— I know that is why you did it, but…you wanted it?”
I’ve been thinking only about myself and my suffering.
Despite his obvious ability to take care of himself physically, what if Russell felt pressured into this in some way?
Being locked up and trapped with an alpha in a rut—an alpha who already tried to drug himself up and then nearly froze to death by throwing himself outside without a second thought…
what if I’m not the only one who’s been going through stress, and Rus has been struggling, too?
“Of course,” he says with a little chuckle, touching me back with quick reassurance.
His finger glides against my cheek, and suddenly, I can taste his pheromones on my tongue again.
They instantly soothe and calm me more than any drug ever could.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Did you not see and hear me last night? ”
I can’t help but smile, and he seems pleased with that. “I sure did.”
But then another fact hits me—all those things I told him about. About her.
It took me months of insanely vague hints, dropping the smallest crumbs of information, and a lot of roundabout conversations to tell Felix.
And when I finally did, I never felt… relieved.
Unburdened. Ever since, I’ve been trying to convince myself that the faint, hidden repulsion I saw in his eyes when I opened up about what happened was only in my head, but was it really?
I tried and tried, and yet it perpetually sat at the back of my mind.
The idea that he wished I had never told him about it.
After all, we never spoke of it again after that day.
Felix always made sure to be extra mindful and caring around my rut, but isn’t that just what someone does when they’re trying their best but struggling with the reminder their partner had been raped by their mother?
I blink, suddenly remembering the moment Rus asked me that question as I lay knotted with him. It was a crazy, ballsy thing to do, but he did it. For me. Until this very instant, I haven’t thought about her once, and yet… I can’t push the lingering sense of shame away.
I don’t want to feel shame anymore.
At least not now.
So instead of wallowing in it like I usually would, I snap my attention back to Rus. He’s in front of me. He’s right here. This bubble we’re in might pop soon, but everything inside it is warm and comfortable, unlike the coldness of the real world. I’m going to hibernate here as long as I can.
Leaning in, I go to kiss him, and his lips eagerly open up for me before I even reach them. The kiss is loving and tender, just how I need it to be.
I look down when we pull apart and…notice the shape of his stiff cock outlined by his boxers. When I glance up, I’m met with Rus’s playful grimace. Half bashful, half flirtatious. Somehow, he’s able to do both perfectly.
Are my pheromones still affecting him? I can’t really smell them, but they must be seeping out, intoxicating Rus. There’s no other way, considering I milked him so many times last night that any regular beta would be out of commission for a month.
It’s not like my rut would be over this fast. My throat closes up, and my body heats at the sight of him, my cock already standing at the ready under the blanket.
Rus’s hand reaches for me with precision.
He slowly pushes the comforter aside, revealing the throbbing proof that, no matter what, an alpha in a rut is always eager for more.
When he touches the head, I shudder and suck my lip between my teeth. “Are you sure you can handle more?” I ask. Whatever level-headedness or clarity I had when I woke up is quickly leaving me.
“Oh, I’m sure,” he whispers in possibly the most seductive way imaginable. “But let’s start slow, sugar.”
We move to the top of the bed, and I follow his lead by lying down next to him.
We both shift onto our sides to face each other, kissing and panting into each other’s mouths, before Rus presses our cocks together, using both of his massive hands to hold us there, his fingers hooking to cage us firmly.
I thrust my hips; slowly and carefully at first. It feels heavenly. Because those are his hands. Rus’s hands. Warm and pleasantly rough.
We ride the short-lived delight of it before going over the edge. Rus shudders as he comes, and when he whispers my name into my mouth, I instantly follow.
After I diligently lick the mixture of our cum from his fingers, I kneel over him, playing with his nipples; kissing, touching, and tasting.
Then I tug at his soft, freshly washed hair that smells just like him—marzipan-y and irresistible.
Rus gets adorably impatient rather quickly.
He pushes me off to get on his hands and knees, and presents his ass to me with a needy desperation glistening in his eyes.
He certainly doesn’t need to beg.
I kneel behind him, gazing at his hole as it glistens with slick that drips down those muscled thighs and…I’m overcome by a ravenous urge to consume.
I take his cheeks in my hands, spreading them to get better access.
Rus gasps in surprise and cranes his neck to look back at me, but when I press my tongue against his entrance, he shudders and drops his forehead to the mattress.
I love how responsive and honest his body is.
Like an open book, he hides nothing. No shame, no hesitancy. All is on display…for me.
“You took me so well last night,” I mutter between breaths. “I think your hole deserves some personal attention. Don’t you?”
I fuck him with my tongue while playing with his cock and balls, instantly enthralled by his sweetness. I need him to come apart again. The memory from yesterday already isn’t enough. I need him completely and utterly exposed and screaming my name like it’s the only thing getting air to his lungs.
Rus’s delicious slick oozing his pheromone scent runs down my chin.
My omega. My lovely, eager omega.
I draw my brows together and close my eyes, my sanity quickly leaving me. This time, I don’t even fight it, because I need to be inside him.
He whimpers and rocks his body against my face, legs trembling, as I thrust my tongue deeper and run it along Rus’s soft inner walls. I use my fingers to get better access, to reach further, but it’s not enough. I need him begging for more.