Chapter 14 Dominic #2
"Don't apologize to me." I stop move a little closer, leaving inches between us.
His scent is all sharp pine, the anxious edge that means he thinks he's disappointed me.
Part of me wants to soothe it. The rest of me wants to reclaim him.
"You fell for an Omega we brought into our bed.
That's not a betrayal. That's biology doing what biology does. "
"It's more than biology." He meets my eyes with the same honesty that made me fall for him when we were seventeen.
Amos doesn't hide from me. He hides from Father, from the board, from the world, but never from me.
"I'm in love with him. I've been in love with him since he caught the financial fabrication in thirty seconds and apologized for being too smart. "
I should have known that the Omega’s charms would tear down Amos’ walls but I had no idea it would be this soon.
"Come here." I close the remaining distance between us, Amos' breathing stuttering as I crowd him backward until his hips hit the edge of my desk.
My hands find the surface on either side of him, caging him in as I lean close enough that my mouth is an inch from his.
"You love him. Fine. But you need to remember something, and I need you to hear it clearly because I'm only going to say it once. "
"Dominic..."
"Who do you belong to?"
Amos' eyes darken and his lips part. His body does what it always does when I pin him against something solid and use that voice: his chin drops half an inch, his shoulders lose their tension, and his scent shifts from anxious to aroused so fast my cock twitches.
"You." The word comes out on an exhale. "Always you."
"Say it again."
"You, Dom. I belong to you."
"Mine." I bite down on my favorite spot, the junction of his neck and shoulder, hard enough that his whole body jerks against me.
The sound that tears from his throat gets muffled against my shoulder.
I bite harder as his hands grab my hips, pulling me flush against him.
He's hard already, his cock pressing against my thigh through his slacks, and the groan I feel vibrate through his chest when I grind into him makes my blood run hot.
"I don't mind that you fell for him." I lick over the mark I just refreshed and feel him shudder beneath my mouth. "But if you ever apologize for it again, I'll put you on your knees in front of the entire office and remind you who your Alpha is."
"That's not the threat you think it is." His voice shakes with a mixture of apology and humor, the latter emotion surfacing because he trusts me enough to be a smartass even with my teeth on his neck.
"No?" I reach between us and grip him through his slacks, hard enough to make his hips buck. "You'd like that, wouldn't you. My brilliant little Alpha on his knees where everyone can see."
"Dominic..." His head falls back as he bares his throat for me, a full submission that sends a surge of possessive heat through my gut. I squeeze harder and his hands scrabble at my shoulders while his hips roll into my grip.
I spin him around and bend him over the desk.
Papers scatter as his hands brace against the surface, and the breath punches out of him when I press my cock against his ass through our clothes.
My hand finds the back of his neck and pins him flat.
He groans and pushes back against me, grinding himself on my cock with a desperation that makes my jaw clench.
"You've been walking around this office all morning smelling like you want to fuck our Omega in front of the entire company.
" I grind into him slow enough that he feels every inch of what's pressing against him.
"Every Alpha on the floor caught that territorial display with the legal associate. You weren't subtle."
"He touched Mattaniah's arm." Amos' voice comes out wrecked against the desk. "Nobody touches him."
"Nobody." I lean down and bite the back of his neck, right above the collar of his shirt.
His hips jerk as a moan spills out of him that he tries to muffle against his forearm.
"That includes associates, interns, mail room staff, and anyone else who thinks proximity to our Omega is something they're entitled to. Even our father."
"Our Omega." He turns his head to look at me over his shoulder, his glasses skewed over his nose. "You said our."
I don’t want to entertain that line of thinking as I yank his belt free, unzip him, and shove his pants down his thighs.
His cock springs free, already flushed and leaking, and when I wrap my hand around him he bucks into my fist so hard the desk scrapes against the floor.
His precome slicks my palm and I twist my grip on the upstroke, dragging my thumb across the head until his arms are shaking and his forehead drops fully to the desk.
"I said our." I stroke him faster as he bites down on his own forearm to keep the sounds in. "Because he is ours, Amos. The scheme made him available. What happens next is something else."
I free myself from my pants and press against him, the heat of my cock sliding between his cheeks drawing a sound from him that makes my gut clench.
His body pushes back against me on instinct, grinding against the bare length of me, and I let him feel what he's doing to me for a few seconds before I reach into my desk drawer for the lube I keep there because this isn't the first time one of our arguments has ended with Amos bent over my furniture.
I slick myself up, the cool gel warming fast against my skin, before roughly prepping Amos, his grunts vibrating against the wood.
When he’s finally stretched enough, I press the head of my cock against his hole.
The muscle resists and then yields as I push forward just enough to stretch the rim, watching him open around me.
"Dominic, we're in the office..."
"I know exactly where we are." I push in past the resistance as another groan vibrates through his chest. His hands scrabble for purchase on the polished surface and his back dips as his body opens around me, taking me inch by inch until I'm buried to the hilt and his breathing has gone ragged.
"And you're going to be quiet, because if anyone walks past that door and hears you, they'll know exactly what I'm doing to my little Alpha. "
I pull almost all the way out and slam back in hard enough to jolt him forward on the desk.
He bites down on his forearm to muffle the cry.
I set a pace that's more punishment than pleasure, deep thrusts that pin him flat with each stroke, my hips snapping against his ass hard enough that the sound of skin hitting skin fills the office.
"You can love him." I thrust harder and his back arches, his body clenching around my cock in a grip that makes my vision blur.
"You can want him. You can tuck his curls behind his ear and teach him about financial fraud and hold him when he cries.
" My hand tightens on his neck as I drive into him at the angle that makes his legs shake.
"But when we're done, when the Omega is satisfied and spent and dripping with both of us, you come back to me. Every time. Do you understand?"
"Yes." His voice breaks on the word. His body clenches so tight around me I have to grit my teeth to keep from coming first. "God, yes. Always."
"Always." I lean down and press my mouth against his ear while my hips grind into him, my cock pulsing inside the heat of his body.
"Because I will burn this entire scheme to the ground before I lose you to it.
Mattaniah gets what he needs from us. But you are mine, Amos.
Before him, after him, during him. Mine. "
His orgasm hits without warning. His body locks tight around me as he spills across the edge of the desk and the floor, his cock pulsing untouched against the polished wood.
The clench of him pulls me over the edge and I bury myself as deep as I can go and come inside him, my knot swelling and locking us together while we both gasp for air.
I can feel my release filling him as his body milks every pulse from me, a shudder running through him from shoulders to thighs.
“Holy shit,” he mumbles. “Did you seriously have to knot me at work? Fuck, that’s good.” His words slur a little as he spreads his legs to accommodate the swelling.
I probably shouldn’t have knotted him at the office, but the absolute need to reclaim my Alpha overrode any of the rational thought. Amos' hand reaches back and finds mine, threading our fingers together as he brings them to his lips.
"You know," he says when his voice comes back, his cheek still pressed to the desk surface, "for someone who keeps calling this a scheme, you seem awfully invested in the Omega at the center of it."
"Shut up."
"You growled at the legal associate, too. I saw it from across the hall. You growled under your breath hard enough that your assistant looked up."
My mouth thins because he's right, even if I didn’t recognize in the moment I had been doing it. "That was a territorial reflex. It doesn't mean anything."
"Sure it doesn't." His thumb strokes across my knuckles. "Just like the jacket doesn't mean anything."
"What jacket?"
"Mattaniah has your jacket. The one you wore on Friday. He told Tamsin he's keeping it in his cubicle so it doesn't wrinkle, which is the worst excuse I've ever heard because the Omega is building a nest and he doesn't even know it yet."
My knot pulses inside him, the image of Mattaniah with his face pressed into my jacket forming before I can squash it.
"That doesn't mean anything either," I say, but my voice lacks conviction.
My knot slowly deflates and I pull out carefully, watching my release leak from him and drip down his inner thigh.
The sight of it sends a possessive surge through me that I don't bother suppressing.
I tuck myself back in and drop into my desk chair, before reaching into the bottom drawer for the pack of wipes I keep next to the lube.
Amos is still bent over the desk, his breathing evening out, his pants around his thighs.
"Come here." I pull him between my spread legs by the hip and he goes, pliant in the aftermath the way he only gets after I've fucked the tension out of him.
I clean him up myself, wiping the mess from between his thighs with careful strokes, then his cock.
His hand rests on my shoulder, his thumb tracing circles against my neck while I work.
"You don't have to do that," he murmurs.
"I know I don't have to." I toss the used wipes in the trash and pull his boxers and pants up, fastening his belt with the same efficiency I used to remove it before tending to my own cock. My palm presses flat against his stomach once we’re both dressed, holding him there between my knees for a beat longer than necessary. "I wanted to."
He looks down at me, his bond mark swollen and red from my teeth as his hands come up to my face. "I don't hate that I love him, Dom." His voice is steady now. "And I don't think you hate it either."
I don't answer because the answer would crack open something I'm not ready to let out. "I don't hate that you love him. I hate that I'm starting to understand why."
Amos smiles at me, but doesn't push for more. He never does when I've given him as much as I can manage, and that's one of the reasons I've loved him for thirteen years.
He picks up his scattered reports and straightens his glasses before tugging his collar up over the newest mark I gave him and heading for the door. "Same time for dinner? Mattaniah mentioned he's cooking tonight because the housekeeper's off and the parents are fucking off for the night."
"He cooks?"
"Apparently, he worked at an Italian restaurant for two years." Amos pauses in the doorway. "He's making carbonara. Try not to growl at anyone between now and then."
He leaves. My phone buzzes ten minutes later with a text from Mattaniah.
Is carbonara okay? I don't know what you or Amos like. I can make something else if that's easier.
Carbonara is fine, firefly.
The three dots appear, disappear, and appear again. Please don't call me that over text. What if someone sees your phone?
Then they'll know I have good taste in Omegas.
A long pause. The dots appear and disappear three times before the reply finally comes through.
That's not funny. I'm serious, Dominic. If your father sees that I'll have to explain why his son is calling me firefly and I don't have an explanation that doesn't end with me being homeless.
Nobody touches my phone. Relax.
Easy for you to say. You've never had to explain yourself to anyone.
7pm. Don't overcook the pasta.
I worked in an Italian restaurant for two years. I'm not going to overcook the pasta.
Then stop texting me and go prep your mise en place.
I don't even know what that means and I know you just looked it up.
Whatever hardened exterior I was trying to keep around this Omega is doing more than just cracking. Every new moment with Mattaniah seems to be tearing down my walls faster than I can build them. The problem is that I’m not sure I want to rebuild anything.