Chapter 18 Nyx #2
He lowered himself slowly, the way a violent man lowered himself when he was proving he could. His hands stayed behind his back without me asking. That alone made my chest tighten, because it was the first time Jabari gave me something without taking anything first.
“You do not get to speak unless I ask,” I said.
“Yes, darlin’,” he murmured, then shut his mouth.
I took a step closer and let him scent me. Not as permission. As consequence. My heat pulsed low and hot, and my slick answered it, and my body tried to panic at how quickly pleasure could look like surrender. I refused to let it.
“Look at me,” I said.
Jabari lifted his gaze. His eyes were dark and steady and hungry, and there was a thread of something else under it that made my stomach twist. Remorse did not erase what he did. It did not give him access. But it mattered that he could hold still and let me see it.
“If I tell you to stop, you stop,” I said.
He swallowed. “Yes, darlin’.”
“If you move your hands, I’m done,” I added.
“Yes, darlin’.”
I exhaled slowly and made myself decide. Then I lifted my shirt, just enough, and stepped close enough that his breath warmed my inner thigh. No panties.
“Use your mouth,” I told him. “Only your mouth. You are going to give me relief without taking control of me. You are going to prove you can serve without turning it into ownership.”
Jabari’s eyes widened a fraction, then softened into something dangerous and reverent at the same time. He leaned forward, slow, waiting for me to push him away. When I didn’t, he pressed a kiss to my inner thigh first, careful and deliberate.
Pleasure sparked sharp and unwanted, and my body tried to fold. I caught myself. I kept my spine straight.
“That is not a yes,” I reminded him, voice tight. “That is you waiting.” I held his gaze a second longer, letting the memory cut where it needed to. “Because the first time you put your hands on me, you did not wait.”
He paused immediately. His breath was hot against my skin, but he did not move.
I hated how much that restraint did to me. I hated how my omega liked it.
“Continue,” I said.
Jabari obeyed. He kissed again, then lower, then lower, mouth warm, pace unhurried. When his tongue finally found me, it wasn’t frantic. It was controlled. It was disciplined. It was service.
My hand moved on instinct, reaching for his hair, and I stopped myself before I could turn him into a handle. I forced my fingers into a fist at my side instead.
Jabari groaned softly and the sound vibrated right where I needed it. He kept his hands behind his back the whole time. He kept his mouth on me.
The orgasm hit hard and sudden, ripping a sound out of me that I tried to swallow and failed. My thighs trembled. My scent spiked. My body wanted to collapse into him.
I did not let it.
“Stop,” I said, breathless.
He stopped instantly. No extra lick. No last push. He went still, waiting.
That was the point. That was the proof.
I stepped back, shaking, and forced air into my lungs until my voice worked again. Jabari stayed on his knees, eyes down now, posture controlled.
When I finally spoke, my voice came out steadier than I felt. “That,” I said, “is what it looks like when you obey me.”
“Yes, darlin’,” Jabari answered, soft and absolute.
I leaned back against the seat, letting the window cool my temple as the city slid past. My body was still humming in places I refused to name, but the moment had already sealed itself away where I could function again.
The carnival was Kairo’s idea. His way of trying to reclaim a day that didn’t revolve around control and aftermath, and I almost said no on instinct.
Too many bodies, too many variables, and my heat sitting under my skin. But Kairo watched me the way you watch a lock you’re trying not to force, and he adjusted before I had to ask.
I would not have chosen it myself. Too many people. Too much noise. Too much unpredictability. But as afternoon bled slowly into evening, the light shifting from harsh gold to something softer and more forgiving, Kairo seemed to feel the change before I did.
The crowds thickened as the sky darkened, strings of lights flickering on one by one until the fairgrounds glowed. Music pulsed from unseen speakers, laughter rising and falling in waves. The scents layered over each other, fried dough and sugar and oil and the faint metallic tang of machinery.
Normally, it would have been too much. Normally, my instincts would have started tallying distance and danger.
But Kairo stayed close without crowding, his presence a constant point of reference. When the press of people nudged me forward, his hand found the small of my back. When a shout rang out too close, his shoulder angled subtly in front of me. Not blocking. Just there.
He bought me funnel cake, tearing off a piece and offering it to me instead of making me juggle paper trays. Powdered sugar dusted his fingers, his mouth quirking when I laughed at the sight of it. Cotton candy followed, the pastel cloud melting on my tongue as he watched.
The rides blurred together. Spinning lights. Sudden drops that pulled a breathless laugh out of me before I could stop it. Each time my hand reached for him on instinct, he was already there, fingers threading with mine, grip warm and sure. He never tightened it unless I did first.
My omega bloomed under the noise and motion. Not with heat. Not with urgency. With something light and unfamiliar.
Joy, simple and unguarded, spreading through me until I realized I had stopped scanning the crowd altogether.
As the sky deepened to indigo, Kairo’s energy shifted. The bright edge of it softened, excitement easing into something quieter. He exhaled slowly, gaze lifting toward the Ferris wheel as it creaked and turned, lights tracing slow circles against the dark.
“One last ride,” he said, almost to himself. Then he looked at me, that hopeful uncertainty back in his eyes. “The Ferris wheel.”
I hesitated, not because I did not want to, but because a warmth had curled low in my belly, subtle at first, easy to ignore. My omega stirred, not alarmed, just alert.
“Okay,” I said.
The cab was shaped like a cracked eggshell, blue plastic gone soft with sun. The only thing keeping us from falling into the lake below was a rusted lap bar, a suggestion of safety, warm from all the hands before ours.
The car rocked gently as we stepped inside; the door clanging shut with a finality that made the space feel smaller than it was. As it lifted, the noise of the carnival softened below us, replaced by the hum of the wheel and the rush of cooler air.
I’d wanted this. Date night, normalcy, the fantasy of being someone who could go outside without turning into an animal.
We were supposed to take a photo at the top, like every other couple.
But my pheromones had ideas about that. The heat had started yesterday, a low simmer, and by the time the wheel hit the apex, my bones were buzzing.
“You’re vibrating,” Kairo said, low-voiced. It was his tease voice. A smile at the edge, just enough threat to set my molars on edge. “You okay, baby?”
I tried to laugh. “I’m fine,” I said, which was true for values of fine that included ‘flirting with self-combustion.’
He turned, bracing an elbow on the rail behind me, so I had nowhere to look but his mouth, or the ice-glint of the midway below, or my own hands knotted in my lap. “You’re lying,” he said.
“Just hot. That’s all.” My tongue darted along the edge of my teeth, tasting the spice of my slick.
He leaned in, bringing the full force of himself down on me.
Kairo was beautiful in a way that didn’t know it was beautiful: wide nose, skin that caught the last of the sun and threw it back.
The alpha that made you think of the word with no need to say it, which was lucky, because I couldn’t make words at the moment.
“Yeah?” His breath moved the curls at my hairline. “You want to tell me why you’re hot?”
My heat broke over me in a pulse, drenching my thighs, the backs of my knees. I shut my eyes and tried to remember how to lie. I couldn’t. “Because,” my voice went cartoon small. “Because everyone here knows.”
“Knows what?”
“What I am.” My face felt like a radiator. “What you are.”
He snorted, a sound as warm as a hand between my shoulder blades. “Let ‘em know. They’re not stupid, Nyx.” He dragged my name out. “If they’re paying any attention, they know I’m here with the baddest omega on the pier.”
It was supposed to soothe me. It just made my skin tighter. “I can’t do this,” I said, swallowing a whimper. “I’m gonna,” I choked.
He shushed me, but his hand was already on my thigh. Through the denim, his palm was a soldering iron. I felt my scent bloom up, as real as a cloud. I was sure everyone below us could smell it. The thought made me want to die and also to grind myself against his hand until I forgot my name.
“Tell me what you need,” Kairo said.
I wanted to tell him no. I wanted to be good. I wanted him to ruin me in the sky, in full view of the children in line and the bored guy taking tickets at the bottom. The words got tangled, so I just shook my head, not even sure what I meant by it.
Kairo clicked his tongue. “All right.” He squeezed, just enough to remind me what I was dealing with. “We’ll do it my way.”
He shifted me so I was straddling the bench, knees bracketing his hips, my arms around his neck for balance.
The cab swayed hard; I clutched him because my body was reacting faster than my pride could keep up and I hated that I needed him to steady me.
The heat pressed in from the inside, sharp and humiliating, and I didn’t know if the tears were from fear, relief, or the fact that I was losing ground in a fight I’d sworn not to lose.
I didn’t realize I was crying until he wiped my cheek with his thumb.
“Shh, shh.” He was soothing and mean at once. “Let’s see if we can’t fix this insignificant problem.”