Chapter Fifteen
Hale
Aksel and I have spent every day together since the interview, which I guess means we’ve spent every day together since we’ve been in Vegas. We’ve hung out in our rooms, eaten meals with Eric when he’s not out clubbing, and made out like teenagers.
I suppose that counts as dating. Can you date your husband?
Take right now as an example. We’re in my room with the curtains half drawn, letting in late-afternoon light that turns everything soft and amber. I’m sprawled across the bed on my stomach, sketchbook propped against a pillow, while Aksel sits in the stiff leather chair by the window.
The air smells faintly like graphite, lavender cleaner, and him. His cinnamon scent is strong, lingering with something warm and unmistakably alpha.
We’re not talking; each of us is working on our own sketches.
It’s… nice?
The silence isn’t awkward. It’s heavy, but in a good way. It’s weighted with comfort and something unspoken humming beneath it. I don’t have to perform or deflect, or shape myself into something palatable. I can exist as I am. My omega relaxes into it, uncurling slowly like it’s finally safe.
Hours pass like that. My wrist aches, my body warms where the bed holds my body. Every so often, I feel his eyes on me. He lingers for a moment before turning back to his sketch. Not hungry, just there. Memorizing the shape of me without touching me.
But peace is fragile.
The shrill scream of my phone announces a video call from my ever-present best friend, ruining the beautiful silence I’ve been basking in all day.
“You’d better answer, Fylgja. You know he’s going to call until you pick up.” Aksel has embraced Eric and his clinginess. It’s sort of adorable, honestly.
“Get dressed, slut,” Eric announces after I answer the call. “I’m taking you and your offensively hot husband out.”
“I don’t feel like being around people right now. We’ve had dinner together every night so far. Aksel was going to order us room service and a movie.” I fake a loud yawn, my jaw cracking loudly when it turns into the real thing.
“We’re not going to dinner, babes. We are going out. O. U. T. Out.”
Something tight coils in my stomach. “I don’t want to have another embarrassing moment like last time. I think I’ll stay in,” I say, my tone clipped. I’m wearing my best serious face, hoping to dissuade him from his going-out agenda.
“It’s not like you can get married again,” Eric laughs.
I flinch, feeling hurt and a smidge embarrassed. “Seriously, Eric? You didn’t even try to stop us that night. You’ve been weirdly enthusiastic about this whole thing. I thought you were supposed to be on my side.”
Eric’s forehead is wrinkled in sympathy and good humor.
His voice is soft when he speaks again. “Oh, Hale. Babes. You’ve been obsessed with this man since before we even met.
I see the way he looks at you. He’s in love.
And you?” He sighs. I hold my breath as I wait for his next words.
“You’re scared, and I get that. I truly do.
I know why you built your walls so high.
But there is a very fine line between love and hate, and you’ve been walking it like a tightrope.
Do yourself a favor and get out of your own way. ”
I groan dramatically and roll onto my back, dragging a pillow over my face.
Maybe I can smother myself out of this conversation.
Might as well go out tonight. Not like I can possibly embarrass myself more than this phone call.
I should’ve told Eric that Aksel was in the room with me.
Although knowing Eric, that wouldn’t have stopped him from speaking his mind.
“We’ll meet you in the lobby in half an hour, Eric,” Aksel states, startling me as he tugs the pillow from my grip and straddles my waist. I hadn’t heard him move.
Eric’s shocked laughter echoes faintly as Aksel reaches for my phone. I attempt to keep it from him, but he’s got a longer reach than me, and I don’t really want to fight him on it. He easily pops it out of my hand and tosses it to the side.
“You’re obsessed with me,” he teases, leaning in close to scent my gland.
He’s been doing this more often, scenting my pheromones and marking me with his.
I refuse to tell him that I like it, but I tilt my head so he has better access.
His muscles are firm where I’m gripping his thighs, his jeans rough against my hands.
“Shut up,” I huff, not nearly as upset as I’m pretending to be. I can feel him smiling against the sensitive skin on my neck. My omega is exactly where he wants to be.
“Don’t worry,” he collects both my wrists in one hand and grabs my chin with the other, “I’m completely obsessed with you too, Fylgja.” His eyes are intense, all traces of teasing gone. It’s a heady feeling to have all the attention of this strong alpha on me.
He kisses me deeply, his tongue teasing the seam of my lips, begging for entry.
I give in immediately. He devours me, his teeth biting my lip and his cinnamon-flavored tongue plunging deep.
I moan embarrassingly loud and thrust my hips up uncontrollably in search of friction.
He responds by grinding down hard, releasing a low grunt as our lengths rub together through our pants.
Slick builds between my cheeks, and my whimpers are building momentum, on track to be full-on whines any second.
“More. More. More.” My omega is losing his shit. We’ve been horny as hell for the last week, and masturbation isn’t working as a deterrent anymore.
“You want more, Fylgja?” he asks with a sensual thrust of his hips.
“Yes,” I groan, my voice low and breathy. “Gods. Yes. Please.”
“I fucking love when you beg for it like a good little omega.” He builds a steady rhythm, thrusting in time to the pulse in my cock as it rubs against his.
We’re staring deep into each other’s eyes as our orgasms build in beautiful symphony.
“Are you gonna come for me, Fylgja? Are you gonna come like a good boy?”
Fuck. That’s so hot. I didn’t think I would be into praise during sex, but apparently I am. I’m so into it that I’m going to come in my jeans any second now. “Don’t stop. Please. Please don’t stop,” I chant over and over, on the precipice of ecstasy.
“Come. Now,” he grunts, the muscles in his back bunching as he bites down on my gland.
Stars burst behind my eyelids, and I swear I’ve never come so hard before. My entire body is shaking with my release as I shoot cum into my jeans like a horny teenage virgin getting his dick touched for the first time. Aksel just gave me the best orgasm of my life, and I’m still fully dressed.
He thrusts one, two, three more times, and then shivers and goes still as he finds his release, his hot breath against my neck causing my dick to jerk again.
His body goes limp as we hang on to each other like our lives depend on it.
Our breaths are slowing together as we come down from that epic high.
In less than ten minutes, it’s over. His weight is suddenly gone and I’m lying alone on the bed with my underwear soaked from cum and slick. My head is foggy as I watch him change into a new pair of jeans, not even bothering with underwear.
“Get up,” he chuckles, already slipping into his shoes. “I’d hate for us to be late.” He fusses with his hair as he walks into the bathroom.
I lay there for a long moment, reliving what just happened over and over again in my head.
“That was so fucking hot,” Eric’s voice says through my phone. “I should’ve made popcorn. Ten out of ten, babes. Have you thought of narrating romance books for a living? That might be an option if the whole tattooing thing doesn’t work out.”
“What the hell,” I screech, throwing blankets around as I look for my phone. I find it on the floor under the side table.
“What? It’s not like I saw anything. Sadly,” he teases, an evil glint in his eyes.
“I’m hanging up now.” I end the call, cutting off Eric’s cackle, and then chuck my phone across the room. So much for no more embarrassing moments.