Chapter 12 #2
Oh, yeah, I thought distantly. I’m only wearing a robe.
He groaned, and his other hand gripped my nape. Leaning down, he pressed his face against my scent gland and inhaled deeply through the knit material of his mask.
My eyes fluttered shut, and I gasped.
Instead of shushing me, he pressed the pad of his thumb against my lips.
“You like that, don’t you?” he asked, mouth pressed against my ear.
“You’re a mess for me already, just thinking about being discovered together.
Do you want to be watched? Do you want everyone to see how sweet you are for me? ”
I shook my head no, but the vacuum turned off again, and this time he pushed his thumb past my lips, pressing on the pad of my tongue. The omega in me went boneless, rolling onto its back in submission. I sucked on his thumb to keep myself quiet, languishing in the tangy taste of leather and alpha.
It was overwhelming and yet nowhere near enough. I wanted to lap the coppery warmth from his skin, from his chest and stomach and that space between his thigh and groin. I wanted to suck it from the swollen base of his cock and lap the salty cum from his weeping tip.
I wanted. I wanted.
As if he sensed my thoughts, teeth pricked my skin through the knit material, and his cock, hard and hot through his pants, pressed into my thigh.
Oh, I was in trouble now. So, so much trouble.
Because instead of bleating in terror like a normal person who found themselves trapped in a closet with a vigilante alpha, I suckled his thumb harder and hitched my leg to the side, finding his gaze in the dark just when he slotted more firmly into the cradle of my thighs.
The black of his blown pupils swallowed any hint of blue. I shivered, rendered immobile by the hunger and possession I saw, but it only made me want him more.
Mate, my omega whined. Mate mate mate mate mate.
He shuddered and ground his pelvis into mine, and the bulge in his pants swelled even larger.
The water in the bathroom turned on, and then off, pulling me back to reality. Why did I care about that? What a silly thing to dwell on when, instead, I could lift the bottom of his mask just enough to expose his neck and taste him there, too. Right from the source.
I bet he’d be the best thing I ever put my mouth on. Even better than hot, gooey brownies, or salted butter, or—
“Sweetheart,” he panted. “Sweetheart, she’s gone. She left.”
“Hmm?”
He ripped his thumb from my mouth like I’d bitten him. “Out. We need to get out of this closet right now, or I’m going to—” The pantry door clacked loudly when he flung it open, throwing himself into the aired-out kitchen.
Stepping out behind him, I blinked in the afternoon light, surfacing from the syrupy haze of want just enough to process what’d happened. What did he mean—
Oh.
My eyes dropped to the bulge in his pants. Holy fuck. He was that hard, that big just from rubbing against each other?
Oh, yes, my omega purred. Keeping that zipped up is such a waste. We’ll suck him until he comes and then—
“Fuck,” the Masked Man cut in, blessedly interrupting that train of thought. “The way you smell—it makes me crazy,” he groaned, shuffling away. He bee-lined for the open window, sticking his head out like a golden retriever on a road trip.
I was still too dazed to think of a good Lassie joke. What a shame.
Then the last few minutes crashed into me.
“Oh, my God. We just—I just—We can’t do this. This can’t be happening,” I babbled, palming my face.
I’d lost my mind. We nearly fucked in the pantry while Donna, the very lovely cleaning lady, vacuumed a few feet away. Locked in that tiny space together, the heat haze took over, and I completely lost control.
I wasn’t ready for this—my mind wasn’t made up yet. I didn’t want to fall into something with the Masked Man just because I had to and come out the other side of it even worse off.
I needed time. I needed to choose, not just slip into it like before.
But there we were. Why had I ever thought getting this back would be fun? It wasn’t. It was like being in that pulsing room all over again—like Joey was right next to me, mocking me for falling for his tricks all over again.
Slimy shame swallowed me whole.
I hated it. I hated it so much I wanted to claw his laughing, conniving face off. I wanted to punish him. I needed to see true terror in his eyes, the kind that made him piss himself before it was all over.
I wanted him to pay for what he’d done to me.
My breath started coming in quick, shallow bursts.
“Hey.” The Masked Man was back in front of me in a second, hands on my shoulders. “It’s going to be okay. Take a deep breath.”
I did, and got a mouthful of that delicious, calming scent. It was easy to blame the way I melted into him on those pheromones, but I wasn’t certain that was entirely true. Even still, I didn’t resent it.
Cupping his hands over mine, he gently pulled them away from my face before brushing off my tears with his thumb. “How about another?”
More alpha pheromones made me feel like I was floating in one of those zero-stimulation baths. It was so odd. The idea of losing control during my heat sent me into a panic, but being near him, touching him, didn’t.
After what just happened in the pantry, I thought all I’d be capable of was lust. But that wasn’t at all what he made me feel right now. His scent wasn’t that of an alpha chasing an omega in heat. It was… caring. Real caring; the kind he couldn’t fake or manufacture or bottle.
Which might be even scarier, if I were honest.
After a few deep breaths, I collected myself enough to speak. The omega in me wailed when I stepped away from him, shaking off his hold.
“Sorry for—sorry,” I said, unable to meet his eye. “My symptoms just started earlier today. I didn’t realize I was so far in, well, you know.” Face beet red, I continued, “But I’m not—I mean, I’m not ready to—”
“Max—”
“I know this sucks for you,” I continued.
Fuck, he probably hated me for making him wait longer.
“I’m sorry you’ve had to wait so long. I know it’s probably hard to be around me, so you should just go.
Don’t worry about my wall. I’ll tell my boss I was moving furniture, and I’ll pay someone to repair it. ”
He cocked his head to the side. “Are you done?”
That pulled me out of my wallowing pit. “Excuse me?”
“Are you done speaking over me?”
I considered. “I think so. Yes. For now.”
“Good. Now, I’m going to clean myself up and fix your wall, and you’re going to put some clothes on. For my sanity. Then we’ll discuss our circumstances.”
I crossed my arms, frowning. “I just said—”
“Sweetheart,” he cut in. “Do you really want me to go?”
I blinked up at him, imagining how empty my apartment would be if he left. My lip trembled. Traitor.
Fuck, my heat-fueled emotions were so embarrassing. I was afraid of what would happen if he stayed, but I also didn’t want to be alone. Any other time, and I’d already have thrown him out. Probably through the window. Again. “It’s whatever.”
He took a step closer, and I felt all the places we almost touched—all the places we’d already touched—as if electric currents ran from my body to his, connecting us.
His eyes flashed. “No. It’s not whatever. Do you want me to leave your home, or not?”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek and shook my head.
“Your words,” he said, voice hard but not harsh. “Use them. Do you want me to go?”
When I was back in my right mind, I’d make him pay for the way his command made me want to bare my neck. “No,” I whispered.
I thought it would hurt to admit, but really it just felt like relief.
He nodded, spinning me around by the shoulders and pushing me down the hall, far more gently than I’d done to him the night before. “Alright, then. Go get comfortable, put away that flashing contraption, and then we’ll talk.”
Oh, I was never getting rid of that red light therapy mask, now. “Fine.”