Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
VIC
Daria has been curled up on her couch for the last hour, a box of tissues by her side. Her eyes are red-rimmed and cheeks raw from the tears. I keep waiting for her to get up. To do something so I can go down the fire escape without her noticing, but she doesn’t, and now I’m too worried to leave her.
She isn’t going to like that you’re out here.
But she obviously needs someone.
She could call the cops.
She could keep crying. Alone. Hurting.
“Fuck it,” I grumble, grabbing her cheap window and pushing it open.
Startling, Daria bolts upright and stares at me with wide eyes as I climb through and unfurl to my full height. I stand at the window and wait for her to scream.
She doesn’t.
“Little doe,” I say gruffly. “Who made you cry?” My tone snaps her out of her daze. From my somewhat invasive search of her social media account, I have an idea on who might have caused her this pain. Although her current profile picture is of her, there’s an arm carelessly slung over her shoulder, like the owner of said appendage couldn’t even muster the strength to hold his omega. Whoever it is was cut out of the photo.
Maybe the ex-boyfriend is responsible.
“Are you stalking me?” There’s no anger in the question, more like resignation.
“Sometimes,” I admit.
She laughs, though the sound is sad. “Why?”
Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Because, as much as I love Kai and Linc, part of me wants you all to myself. Because I want to know where you are. I want to know what you do. Because...
“Because you’re my omega,” I say with a smirk. Ex-boyfriends be damned. None of that matters now that we’re scent matches.
“That’s...” She trails off. Her features soften. “That’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.” She starts crying again, reaching for a tissue and blowing her nose, a mess of tears and snot and pain.
I’m by her side in three long strides, dropping to my knees and cupping her face. “Tell me how to fix it.”
She sniffs. Leaning into my hand, she sighs. “Can you go back in time?”
“No,” I say sadly. “But I can do so much. Who made you cry, Daria?” I’d like to introduce them to my fist.
As if sensing my intentions, she releases a gut-wrenching sound. “It’s my mom,” she confesses.
My hopes for kicking her ex’s ass plummet off a cliff. “Well, that complicates things,” I say. Even if I did find a way to kick her mom’s ass—maybe asking Letti—I’d run the risk of Daria being mad at me for hurting her mom.
She gives me a sad smile. “I’m really happy you’re here.” Something crosses her face, and she cringes. “And I’m so embarrassed.”
“Why?” I stroke her cheeks with my thumbs.
“Because my place isn’t exactly nice.” She glances away. “Do you want to stay?”
The vulnerability in the question, like I would even consider telling her no, punches through my chest. Fucking hell. This omega already has me hook, line, and sinker.
“Only if you let me spoon you,” I whisper before kissing her gently on the lips.
She sighs against my mouth. “Okay.”
That’s all the permission I need. I grab her around the waist and stand, smiling as her legs instantly wrap around me. She rests her head against my shoulder, and I carry her to her bedroom, setting her on the bed.
I hate being in bed with clothes on, so I kick off my shoes, yanking off my shirt and dropping my pants.
Daria’s fingers ghost over my ribs. “Did they hurt?” Her eyes travel over every tattoo, snagging on the freshly tattooed doe.
Maybe it was a little premature, but I’m already all in. If she rejects Pack Kelly, well, I’ll cross that road if it ever comes to that. With the way she’s staring at the tattoo, a mix of awe and lust, I have a feeling I did the right thing.
“Only the one on my back.”
She looks at me through her lashes in question, and I turn for her, showing her the giant piece that took almost a year to finish. A yacht being destroyed by a magnificent kraken. What was meant to be a happy vacation turned into a disaster. The tattoo represents a dark time I’d rather not think about when Daria is here.
As she strokes a tentacle, she presses her lips against the base of my spine, peppering kisses all the way up until she rests her cheek on my shoulder and hugs me, hands lacing together over my belly button. “Do you know how amazing you are?”
The question, the compliment, steals my breath, and I struggle to find enough composure to answer. I’m not used to this sort of kind affection.
She kisses my shoulder. “Even if you are a stalker,” she says, moving her mouth to my ear, “I’m happy you’re my beta.”
“Little doe,” I rasp, turning in her arms and claiming her lips with a hungry growl. She instantly opens. Fingers digging into my back and yanking me closer, Daria begs me for more, and there’s no denying her.
Not when she makes me feel like I’m worthy. Not when she needs me. Not when she makes that little gasp of delight as my hands grip her ass.
If she wanted, Daria could destroy me, but I know she won’t. Something about her is gentle. She’s not cruel. She’s not playing games. This is who she is, and her words are real.
Easing her back onto the bed, I slip one of my hands between her legs, drawing my fingers over the thin material of her sleep shorts. She whimpers and bucks into the touch.
“Can I have you like this?” I ask, nudging her nose with mine. “Can I make love to you?”
She trembles beneath me. Fragile. Delicate. Breakable.
Pulling back, I look her in the eye. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Her legs fall open. “Don’t break that promise,” she warns.
“Never,” I tell her, easing her shorts and thong down her legs as I tease my mouth over her neck, trailing my lips along the line of the choker she’s still wearing. A pleased hum rumbles in my chest. Other than to shower, I don’t think she’s taken it off.
Her hand finds the band of my boxers, and she yanks them halfway down, grabbing my cock and guiding it to her center, too impatient to wait for me to take them off. She smooths the tip of my shaft through her slick heat, watching me watch her draw it down to her entrance.
Fingers falling away from my length, she extends her arms toward me, and I drop my forearms onto the bed as I thrust all the way in. The air whooshes out of her lungs, but she hums in approval as her arms wrap around me.
With her hazel gaze on mine, I draw my hips back before thrusting again, loving the way her eyes widen when I hit her G-spot.
“You feel like home, little doe.”
“Vic.” She says my name like a prayer.
“I’m here.” I pump into her again, reaching one hand back to run it down her soft thigh. “I’m right where I need to be.”
She tips her hips, giving me better access to that lovely spot inside of her, and I grind against it, grunting when her walls flutter and pulse around my length.
“Harder,” she demands.
I give her exactly what she wants, slamming my hips into hers until her mouth parts. A primal urge to have her neck exposed to me has my fingers diving into the tangle of her curls and wrenching her head back.
“Yes,” she rasps, cunt clenching hard around my girth. Her slick coats my skin. The lavender of her scent is thick in the air, invading my senses and drawing my mouth to her throat.
I suckle at her skin, panting as I impale myself inside of her. She moves her body in time with mine, meeting my hips, thrust for thrust, until I’m hitting the softness of her G-spot over and over.
“Yes, Vic, please, please, please,” she begs.
“Fuck, little doe, I can’t wait to fill you with my cum.”
She presses her tits into my chest. She’s still wearing a shirt, but she feels so good like this that it doesn’t matter. Daria clings to me, and I tighten my grip on her hair, pulling hard as I work into her steadily, keeping my pace as she starts to make sounds that’ll play in my mind for days to come.
As every part of her clamps around me, I bite her neck, not breaking the skin but definitely leaving a mark. She screams, the pure pleasure of her cry undoing every ounce of my control.
All it takes is two pumps before I’m spilling inside of her, wishing I could pause this moment and stay here forever. Sex has never felt like this. It’s never felt so easy. So real.
“I love how that feels,” she says, moaning as another spurt of cum sprays inside of her.
Unable to respond, I simply rest my forehead on her shoulder and pant, holding myself deep inside of her, loving the way she feels with my cum coating her. And like the sweet angel she is, Daria feathers her lips against my cheek.
“I love having you inside me. Can we stay like this?”
It’s like she’s trying to steal my heart.
“We can do whatever you want,” I tell her, holding her tight before rolling so I’m on my back and she’s on top of me.
The new position pushes me deeper inside of her, and while I’m spent, I groan at the way her walls clamp down around me in approval.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” She sits and wiggles nervously in my lap.
I swear my dick is debating whether it can get hard again, because it twitches in response. “The only way you’d hurt me is if you left me,” I tell her, baring too much of my soul way too early.
She goes still and holds my gaze, her palms stroking over my chest. “I’m not leaving,” she says firmly.
Giving her a lazy smile, hiding how scared I am that she might break that promise, I run my hands up her thighs. “Then, let me fall asleep with my cock inside of that pretty pussy, little doe.”
“It is pretty, isn’t it?” she asks with a cute grin.
“The prettiest, now come here.”
And she listens, easing onto my chest and nestling her head into the crook of my neck. Breathing in, she hums in approval.
“I love having a stalker.”