Chapter 7
SEVEN
My bed is not this soft.
This bed is like a cloud. A soft, cozy cloud that has wrapped me up in its arms and floated me to the stratosphere.
“Wake up, Your Highness,” a feminine voice calls from across the room.
I groan, rolling over on my side and pulling my knees to my chest.
That’s the bad thing about fizz. You don’t forget what you did like in a heat. No, once the haze lifts, you remember everything.
Like I remember fingering myself in front of Puck.
Like I remember telling Trey that he wasn’t part of my pack.
Like I remember repeatedly begging Puck for a knot he does not have.
Fuck.
“Get up, Queenie,” Tati says again, this time pulling the blankets off me. “I need you to take a half dose of fizz, sexy Jack’s orders.”
“Jaques?”
Tati flops on the bed beside me. “No, Jack. You know… King, Queen, Jack? Kieran, you, Puck?”
“Oh, don’t make that a thing,” I groan, rolling away from her and pulling the blanket over my head again. “Leave me alone and let me sleep for a week.”
“No can do. Drink this. Then I’ll leave you alone.” She holds out a clear plastic cup that is very lightly bubbling.
I have suggested this regimen enough times to know what’s coming. A half dose of fizz will have the same effects for a shorter time and a little less intense since I’ll have a bit of a tolerance.
But that doesn’t mean I’m looking forward to going through it again.
I take the cup from her and drink it down before flopping back on the bed.
“Don’t forget, there is a dresser full of toys,” Tati says as she leaves.
It’s going to be a long day.
* * *
My fingers slip on the copious amount of slick between my legs. I feel like I am on fire. Logically, I know that this is not my heat. I’m on my second step-off dose of fizz, and I don’t feel that tell-tale ache from my heat but try telling that to my throbbing clit.
The sounds of music from outside the room, like white noise at a therapist’s office to block a session, are the only indicator of time I have. It’s never on unless the dens are open, so it must be the evening.
I grab the discarded dildo from beside me. It’s a decent size, but not massive, Alpha cock, with a pump to inflate the imitation knot at the bottom. I circle the blunt tip of it over my sensitive clit, my toes curling at the sensation. After I coat the tip in my slick, I push it inside, pumping it slowly and imagining it’s an actual Alpha.
It’s been a while since I’ve gotten laid.
What I wouldn’t give to have a sexy Alpha wedged between my thighs, dragging his cock in and out of me, kissing up and down my neck, pulling my hair, biting my nipples…
I throw the dildo across the room.
Fuck this.
I’m in a pleasure den. There is an Alpha just outside that door looking for someone to fuck. Why shouldn’t it be me?
I slip on my skirt and bralette from last night and open the door slowly, looking up and down the hall to make sure Tati isn’t around. I know she would not approve of this plan at all, but I’m an adult.
If I want to get dicked down, why can’t I?
The bullpen is at the end of the hallway, where the clients wait for their girls. Most of them come for someone specific, but I am sure someone without a scheduled appointment would be willing to go to the girlfriend room with me.
Rina sits at a desk in the middle of the pen, her pupils blown out from whatever drug she’s on. When she sees me, she drops her pen. “Queenie? What are you doing here? Are you working the dens?”
“Tonight I am,” I say, dragging my eyes across the men in the room. Several of them have been looking at me since Rina called my attention to my arrival. I chew my thumbnail, looking at the men like pictures on a menu.
And I am starving.
But none of them are doing it for me.
The door to the pen slams open, and a handsome Alpha comes swaggering in, a bottle of beer loosely clutched in his hand. The Alpha is clearly on fizz, his eyes are filmy, and his lip is curled, showing off that slightly feral attitude that comes with a rut.
Now him? He does it for me.
I point at him.
“You,” I purr, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Me?” He drags his eyes over my figure, and his smile turns predatory. “What can I do for you, pretty little Omega?”
“You’re with me tonight.” His eyes light up, and he steps towards me. Rina stands up and holds her hand out to him.
“Queenie, I don’t think-”
“Rina, if he tries to blow up about this, I’ll say you weren’t manning the desk, and I stole a client.” I roll my eyes and turn on my heel, walking down the hallway. After a few steps, I notice the Alpha isn’t following me. I glance over my shoulder and wiggle my hips. “Come then, handsome.”
The fizz is really starting to kick up, and I am throbbing between my legs, aching for a knot to take the pressure off. He doesn’t catch up to me until I’m already in the room, perched on the edge of the bed. I hear his beer bottle clatter on top of the dresser before he slides into the room and pulls the door closed behind him.
“Queenie, is it? You’re not the Queen, are you?”
I spread my arms wide. “The one and only.”
“Wow, in the presence of royalty. I am honored to fuck you tonight.” He pulls off his solid black tee and undoes his belt, using his toes to help him remove his shoes. “I’m Maverick.”
“Maverick? Looks like we’re both using our pretend names tonight.”
He snickers and shoves his ripped denim down his legs. “Nothing pretend. That’s what’s on my birth certificate and everything. My parents say it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy and that they made me weird by giving me the name, but…” He shrugs and takes a step toward me. “Being weird is more fun. I always end up in exciting new situations. Like this one.”
He steps between my legs, and I wrap my hands around his waist, resting my palms on his lower back.
At the same time, we both jerk our heads back.
It’s not possible.
Nope.
I refuse.
But –
“You smell like cotton candy,” he murmurs, dragging his nose down the curve of my neck. “Like going to the circus and getting a big, fluffy cone of pink and blue spun sugar that sticks to my fingers and the roof of my mouth.”
His pupils are blown wide, breaking through the cloudy film that the fizz left.
“You’re my scent match.”
I bark out an uncomfortable laugh. “Oh, honey, that’s the fizz,” I lie, lie, lie through my clenched teeth.
Because this Alpha smells like marzipan. Sweet, toasted almonds.
“I’ve had fizz before. It’s never done this,” he says between kisses up my neck. His tongue traces my skin as if he can catch a taste of me for confirmation, and I struggle to keep my composure.
“It’s a new batch,” I insist.
I’ve dreaded meeting my scent match. I cannot bring someone into this shit show that is my life. It puts them and the people they love at risk.
And even though I never wanted to be tied down to an Alpha, lately, I’ve fantasized about having a pack and living an everyday, domestic life. Some people fantasize about traveling or winning the lottery, maybe fucking someone famous in a single night of passion.
Not me.
I just want a quiet life with an Alpha or two, with some pets, where we make enough money to spoil my niece, and I don’t have to sell drugs to keep my family alive.
But it’s not in the cards for me.
In this world, the Queen is just a pawn with a crown.
But if I can make him believe this is the fizz, I can have the evening with him. It’s more than I thought I would ever get.
More than I deserve.
It’ll have to be enough.
“Wild that a drug can make me think you’re my scent match,” he slurs, fisting my hair and pulling my hair back. “It feels so real.”
I drag my hands across his slim stomach. I let myself get a good look at him for the first time, trying to memorize every part of him. Rich brown eyes are sunken deep into his skull, with a strong nose and a full bottom lip. His smile is lopsided and mischievous, and his shaggy brown hair dusts his ears and forehead. He’s slim, much slimmer than Alphas typically are, but tall.
He’s like a stick bug.
The thought has me giggling.
Still, he’s incredibly handsome, and I have no idea why he’s at a pleasure den. He could get just about any woman to sleep with him.
But he’s mine.
At least for tonight.
I cup his cheek and pull his mouth to mine. When our lips crash together, my body lights up, and the fizz decides to roar to the surface. I whine in his mouth, and he snarls, pushing me down on the bed and crawling on top of me.
Our tongues tangle as he reaches under my skirt to find me bare, and he groans in satisfaction as he drags his fingers through my folds.
“So much slick, and all for me,” he says against my mouth. “All mine. Mine, mine, mine,” he chants, pulling his fingers to his mouth and sucking them in. His hips buck in the air as he tastes me. The way he loses control over me is going to go to my head. It’s going to make me want to keep him, damn the consequences.
He’s erratic and a little twitchy, and briefly, I wonder if he’s on something other than fizz. But I think that this may be just who he is.
I try to drink down every detail about him I can, knowing I will never see him again. He’s got to be around my age, but I can’t be sure. He has a USB drive on a necklace that bounces against his chest as he moves, and is wearing a Prism wristband.
So he wandered down here from the club level, like this wasn’t his original destination.
He interrupts my perusal of him as he strokes up and down my slit, pausing to circle my clit with every swipe. I whine, the sensation overwhelming all of my thoughts, and writhe beneath him. “Don’t tease me, Alpha,” I say breathlessly.
“Oooh, yes, call me Alpha again.” He leans down and bites my bottom lip. “Never heard a more beautiful sound.”
“Alpha,” I moan as he slips two fingers inside me. He curls them and hits the ridge his knot would lock into perfectly. I feel like I am going to explode right there, my back arching off the bed and my nipples straining against the thin lace of my bralette.
I reach a hand out to snag his briefs and pull them down, his heavy cock bouncing out of them and making my mouth water with the need to taste him. I grip him and lazily drag my hand up and down his length, fingers dancing along the veins before stopping to spread the moisture from his tip around.
He nearly purrs and thrusts into my hand. “Oh fuck, Omega,” he moans, leaning down and capturing my mouth in a possessive, desperate kiss. “If your hand feels that good, I just know this little pussy is going to put me in the ground.”
Maverick doesn’t even bother to pull my skirt off. He shoves it up around my stomach and then wiggles out of his briefs. I drop his cock as he wedges himself between my thighs. He grips his base and drags himself through my slit.
Alphas can’t get sexually transmitted diseases like Betas and Omegas can. Their enhanced healing abilities knock it out quickly. It’s a little unfair if you ask me, but at least I don’t have to tell him to stop to get a condom.
At least I get to feel him how I’m craving.
He wraps his arms under my knees and pushes inside me tortuously slow. I’m a panting, slick-soaked mess by the time his hips press against me, and I feel the full length of him.
“Fuck fuck fuck, Queenie,” he moans as he thrusts inside me shallowly. “You’re so Goddamn tight. So slick. So sweet. Candy. Smell like candy.”
He’s falling into a fizz-induced rut, clearly on a full dose, and I scream as he starts to pound into me harder. “Yes, Alpha, fuck,” I groan in his ear. “Rut, Alpha.”
The Alpha growls and drops my legs, caging my head between his hands. His hips whip into me, each thrust scraping all the best parts of me. Stars flash behind my eyes, and my brain starts to short-circuit.
I’m a fucking mess, already.
“Omega.” His voice has dropped several octaves, and his Alpha nature is riding him hard. “My Omega.”
I should correct him, but I can’t make myself deny his claim. Hopefully, he will buy the lie that the fizz tricked him into thinking I was his scent match.
“Knot, Alpha,” I whine. I start to pinch and twist my nipples, searching for my orgasm. He watches my hands, entranced, before sitting up slightly so he can rub my clit.
His fingers are clumsy. Whether it’s from the drugs or inexperience, I can’t tell, but I have to help him get his hand centered on my clit several times. When it seems like he’s lost his patience in trying to coax an orgasm out of me, he pinches my clit.
I cry out, back arching, clenching around him, and then he follows the pinch up with a light slap, and I explode. Spots creep into my vision, and I chant a nearly incomprehensible mess of his name, his designation, and the word knot over and over.
“Bite, Omega. Bite, bite, bite,” he chants, leaning down and posing his lips over the crook of my neck.
I snag him by the ears and pull his face to mine, capturing his lips. “No bite, just knot.”
As if my words permitted him, he groans out his release, and I feel his knot start to swell inside me. The pressure, along with the sinful way his tongue dances with mine, sends me into another orgasm that is going to be branded on my soul.
He collapses on top of me, panting, and rolls onto his side. The movement tugs at the knot, causing us both to hiss in pain, but eventually, we get settled.
I look into his heavy, hooded eyes.
Maverick.
The Alpha who smells like marzipan. My mom would make marzipan for Christmas every year, and I’d sneak some before it was ready, savoring the taste like it was forbidden.
And now it is.
He’s my scent match.
And tonight is all I’ll have with him.
He falls asleep in my arms, and when his knot deflates, I slide off the bed quietly, careful not to wake him. I am starting to feel the melancholy that comes with a fizz crash, made worse by the knowledge that when I walk out of that door, I will never see my Alpha again.
I have to get out of here before he wakes and realizes it’s not the drugs making him think we’re matched. I get dressed, scribble a note on a pad of paper that I find on the nightstand, and slip out the door.
It takes considerable effort not to look back as I escape through the employee exit and leave behind my soulmate.