Chapter 24 – Arin
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ARIN
She’s ethereal.
I thought she was stunning the night she cautiously walked into my office, but this version of her is something to behold. Her cheeks are lightly flushed, the smell of honey permeating the air as we clean our plates, each course more decadent than the last. And with each bite, she becomes a little softer, her smiles growing easier to coax out.
I can’t think, because every time I try, I inhale her perfume and feel like I’m reduced to a slobbering idiot, a starved man ready to beg at the feast laden altar between her thighs.
She laughs at something I manage to bumble out, and I’m rewarded with the vision of her head tilting back, her eyes sparkling with delight .
The servers return for the final time, bringing with them the chef’s signature vanilla bean mousse, which is whipped to a light and airy perfection. June takes a swoop of it onto her spoon, and I watch, transfixed, as her pink tongue darts out. She moans at the taste, her eyelashes fluttering.
I wonder if I’ll make it back home to the comfort of my bedroom before I completely lose all my sanity and self control.
“This is incredible .” Her eyes dart up and she beams at me. “Everything has been delicious. Thank you so much, Arin.”
I shiver in pleasure at the sound of my name on her lips. I need to get a grip, because she’s a person and I don’t want to reduce her to the object of my affections and desires — but god do I desire her. I would cut off my own arm and gift it to her if she asked for it.
“I hoped you would like the chef, he’s a favorite of mine.”
She smiles as she glances down at the floor again, her tongue sliding over the spoon. I clutch at my own cutlery, watching her cheeks darken, her eyes swiping over the view below of the private club, licking the spoon clean.
The sun set maybe twenty minutes ago, casting the room in a golden light that perfectly matches her honey scent. She’s seemed curious about the room below us since we walked in, and more so now that it’s busier. It’s an exclusive club, for members and shareholders of the building — there are offices above us that manage the public relations of well known alphas and omegas.
I have a black card that could get us into any private room we desired.
June stands, abandoning her spoon as she stares at the floor below her boots, tilting her head. “Is it… a business club?”
“Something like that.” I let my own spoon fall, standing quickly to move over to her. Her eyes dart up as I gently take her by the shoulders and point her in the direction of the corner rooms below us. “The entrance is just there.” I don’t need to talk in her ear, but I find myself bending closer, whispering the words. “There are private rooms, it’s very discreet — and a lot of well-known public and private figures frequent it because the club is known for its discretion in all manners.”
She flushes, and I’m hit with a new wave of her perfume, my head spinning as I resist the urge to drag my tongue over her jaw. I want to bury myself inside her skin and live there.
Her eyes flitter back and forth, taking in shadowed figures as they chat, dance, and drink. The other activities are hidden behind closed doors, not matters for regular dinner guests to experience.
“Can they see us?” Her voice is breathy as she turns her head, looking up at me.
“No.” I straighten, clearing my throat. “The ceiling is mirrored below. We can see them, but they can’t see up. Normally this space is used for dinner meetings, patrons of the club aren’t the only guests allowed on this floor.”
“Normally.” Her lips quirk as she looks at me. Whatever lipstick she put on before we left is gone, worn away from eating, but I don’t mind. Her lips are a deep pink, a rosy mauve that’s entirely too biteable. I want to sip from them and find out if she tastes as good as she smells.
I give her a coy smile. “The private rooms have one way mirrors.”
“Oh.” She blinks, then looks down, her eyes widening as she whispers softer. “ Oh .”
I take perverse pleasure in the way her cheeks heat. Her coat is gone, and in only the soft sweater and her tight little skirt, she’s driving me up the wall. The open windows to the London night air ruffle her dark red hair as she looks up at me, running her tongue over her lips.
“Have you had first hand experience in these rooms?” The question knocks me on my ass. She sounds so innocent, like she’s asking about the weather, but the smell drifting up from her throat, from between her thighs tells another story.
I step closer, groaning softly. “No, Juniper, I have not.”
She shivers, glancing away from me and chewing on her lip. “I always hated that.”
I pause, confusion sweeping the haze of arousal from my head as I reach for her. Sliding a hand over her arm, I reach down and hold her hand. “What?”
She shrugs. “My name.” Her eyes roll, laughing, but there’s no mirth behind it. “I never introduce myself with it — Juniper — so earthy and free. I shortened it for my pen name because it fit better on book covers. And I always wondered, does anyone even know me? Or do they just know the parts I’ve parceled out into books, the little bits I’ve written of myself into my characters?”
I stare, seeing her in an entirely new light.
“I would be happy to introduce you to the club when you aren’t about to have a heat.”
Her eyes find mine, something darker in them — something that makes me think her mind is too clouded. I want to clear her thoughts for her, give her only sensations to focus on. My brain spins with the sheer amount of ideas, of the things I could show her, or experience with her.
“I had to become familiar with kink for a book I wrote.” She tilts her chin, nodding toward the floor below us. And god this woman, I want to sweep her into my arms as her eyes twinkle. “I interviewed a few experienced persons back in the states, polished the manuscript, loved it, and never could bring myself to publish it.” She shrugs, something sad overtaking her expression. “I couldn’t do it. My agent loved it, but I knew the second it was public, my mother would call.”
My tongue feels thick as I squeeze her hand. “You don’t belong to them. You’re allowed to make the decisions that lead to your happiness.”
She raises her eyes, staring straight into my soul. “I think I’m beginning to realize that.”
We’re both quiet, and I take the chance to move closer, holding her hand in mine as my other one raises, pinching her chin between two fingers. She sucks in a little breath, her head tilting.
“I love to play, Juniper.” My voice is soft, thick with promise. “Will you let me play with you one day?”
Her eyes flicker to my lips as she licks her own, her voice breathy. “Yes, alpha.”
Fuck .
I dip my head down, barely managing to get the words out. “Consider this me courting you, omega.” And then I tug her to me, kissing her with every ounce of my body, pushing every unhinged feeling into the movement.
Her soft form presses against my chest as my lips move over hers. My brain isn’t even in the room anymore, I’m so overcome by her. She’s sweet, honeyed with a touch of vanilla from the dessert, and it makes me hungry . I want to eat her, I want to press her down to the lit up floor and truly test if we’re hidden from the people below us.
My chest feels tight, something settling in it that I didn’t even realize was missing until I touched her.
I drop her hand, grabbing onto her hip instead as she moans, moving into me. She breathes out harshly as she lifts her hands up and slides them into my hair. She’s not slight, by any stretch of the imagination, and I relish the handfuls of her hips, her ass, her plushness, as I kiss her harder.
My control slips through my fingers like water as I touch her little skirt, meeting the bare skin of her thighs. She whimpers, and I’m gone , pressing us backwards until I knock against the table. It takes one swipe of my arm across it for the plates and extra tat to hit the floor, shattering and clanking.
She gasps, but I ignore her shock as I push her up against the table, using it to pin her back as my hand drops from her hip to the hem of her skirt, toying with brushing my fingers under it, teasing the soft skin of her thighs.
Her whine makes my head spin. “Oh, yes .”
I stare down at her, the arch of her throat, bare from teeth marks, her hair cascading back as my hands slide up the front of her thighs. I stop just before moving between them, parting her legs slightly, but not very far because of the structure of the skirt. It’s okay — it’s enough room to do what I need to.
“My love,” I breathe the words, kissing her jaw, her pristine throat, “I don’t have time to fuck you properly here.” Her eyes find mine, lust-drunk and pupils wide. “I”m so sorry,” I apologize as I pet her thighs, “but I can make it better. Would you like me to?”
She nods, her voice reedy. “Yes.”
I smile, then slide a hand between her legs. My knuckles glide with ease over her panties, the entire seat of them wet with slick, her skin sticky as I rub back and forth, leaning her further back against the table. I crowd her, holding her up as I kiss her jaw, her skin, running my nose over her, drenching her in my scent as her body soaks my hand between her thighs.
“Such a waste of sweet honey.” I move my fingers over her underwear until her hips are canting up against my touch, her breathing labored. I smile as I kiss her again, rucking the seat of her underwear to the side, letting my fingers graze over her, parting her folds under her skirt. I bet the view is fucking incredible . My fingers explore, making her keen out as I whisper, “I bet you taste better than our dessert, do you think so?”
She whines, grabbing onto my forearms as I brush her clit. I slide it lower, teasingly pushing it into her entrance, feeling the soft flesh relent as I pump a finger shallowly into her. There’s a delightful give to her body, but I still feel her muscles fluttering at the intrusion.
“I —” She twitches, crying out softly. “Oh god, please , Arin.”
I click my tongue, enjoying myself far too much. “Please what? I can’t taste you how I’d like to, Juniper. But I’d love to know if you’ve tasted yourself.” I whisper into her ear as I nip at the lobe. “Have you sucked yourself off your fingers after making yourself come? Have you tasted your new, sweet omega slick?”
She jerks in my arms when I flick her clit again, whining. “No, I haven’t.”
“Well,” I hum sadly, then I thrust my finger back into her, making her body jolt as she cries out and presses her hips against me, seeking friction. I can feel her cunt fluttering before I start to thrust my hand, fucking her slowly but surely, getting her needy enough that I can easily slip in another finger. My thumb circles her clit. “Let me solve that for you, my love.”
I attack her lips hungrily, pressing her against the table and pinning her hips in place with my own, the table shaking as her cries grow louder and louder against my lips.
“It’s a shame the people below us can’t see how well you’re taking me.”
The words have her spasming around me, and I know I’m going to have to leave a substantial tip for the waitstaff to keep this discreet, but it’s worth it as her nails dig into my arms, her body tightening around my fingers.
“I — Arin — uh —” Nonsense comes out of her mouth as her lips part, her head dropping back, her throat aching.
“That’s right, say my name as much as you’d like. It’s yours. Take my fingers and your orgasm.” I don’t change a fucking thing about the way I’m fingering her, letting her ride my hand as I smile. “Drench me in your honey, sweet omega.”
Her cheeks go scarlet, a little shriek clawing its way out of her throat as her body bows under my ministrations. She comes in my hand mewling like a kitten, slick releasing onto my skin, making everything wet and messy between her thighs and under her skirt as I murmur against her jaw, helping her ride it out. “So good for me. You’re so pretty, love. Do you feel better now?”
She nods, moaning as her lashes flutter. I pull my hand out from between her thighs and lift it between us, offering my glistening, sticky fingers to her.
“Open.”
June stares at me, her eyes hazy as she opens her lips, sticking her tongue partially out. I place my fingers on it and her tongue swirls around me, cleaning herself off my fingers, tasting herself on my skin.
I groan, pulling my hand back before she can get it all and lick the side of my hand, my nostrils flaring at the scent of her. Scooping her up, I support her weight and bend my head down, kissing her hungrily, seeking more of the taste as I whisper, “Let me take us home, Juniper.”
Her head lolls, dropping against my shirt as she gives me a tiny smile, satisfied and flushed. “Okay.”
Bile rises in my throat as I stare down at her — because I don’t need a bond to feel the band snapping around my heart, tying me to her irrevocably. I’ll be inconsolable if this is only temporary for her — I’ll never recover if she doesn’t end up a member of the pack and a permanent part of my life.