Finally Home #2
He snarls low, the sound sharp, glaring at my hand. It jolts me because this isn’t like him. Not usually. Tadeo’s the controlled one, the perfectionist. The guy who can sit through a storm and not flinch. Seeing him fray like this makes me uncomfortable.
“You need to fucking talk to someone,” I say firmly. “I can go get Knox. He can—”
“Don’t,” Tadeo says quickly. “Knox has enough going on. He doesn’t need to deal with me.”
“Then tell me what’s got you so wound up,” I push back. “What’s your fucking problem?”
For a moment, Tadeo doesn’t answer. His eyes dart from me to the door, like he’s weighing his options.
“Whatever’s going on, no one will judge you,” I finally say, and Tadeo‘s fists curl tight.
“I’d judge me if I were you,” he finally snaps.
But before I can ask why, words rip out of him like they’ve been festering too long.
“Because even with all the bruises on Skyla’s body and the fucking drugs in her system, all I wanted last night was to track her down, rip Knox off of her, and fuck her senseless against a goddamn tree.
” His voice is rough, angry, like he hates every syllable.
“I don’t know how you could stand it, laying there on the river last night, but I heard every fucking thing Knox did to her.
Everything." His eyes widen with desperation.
“Every moan. Every gasp. Every slap of skin on skin.” He rakes his nails through his perfectly styled hair.
“It was fucking torture for so many goddamn reasons.
" His brows pull together, his eyes flooding with pure pain.
“I mean, who looks at a battered woman and gets hard?”
Heat floods my neck, and I shift uncomfortably, not because I’m disgusted—but because I get it. Too well. But I breathe through Tadeo’s confession, trying to look steady as bedrock. “Your instincts are natural.”
“The worst part is, I can still feel it.” He slams a fist to his chest as his dark gaze snaps to the hallway. “It took everything in me not to launch myself at her in the car. And even now…” His teeth clench.
“Any healthy young alpha would’ve felt the same,” I say. “What matters is that you didn’t.”
But Tadeo doesn’t look convinced. His chest heaves rapidly, and his gaze skitters anywhere but me.
That’s when I notice the thick bulge straining against his pants.
His control is fraying. He’s only twenty-eight.
That’s very young for an alpha to control such intense instincts on his own.
And while Tadeo prides himself on being more disciplined than the rest, at the end of the day, he’s still a hot-blooded alpha, struggling under the pull of the fresh, unclaimed omega now living in our home.
“Tad,” I say his name firmly, pleased when his eyes meet mine. “Do you need to get off?”
“No.” The word snaps out of the young alpha too fast and sharp, like he’s trying to convince himself more than me. But his body gives him away. He’s trembling with tension he simply can’t cage.
Reaching out, I press my palm hard against his cock, and his whole frame vibrates like I’ve shocked him. Eyes shut, breath ragged.
Yeah. He needs this, before he snaps.
“You need to be fucked, Tadeo.” My voice drops, low and rough, more command than question, as I squeeze his cock through the fabric.
“You need to get off.” I close the space between us, and, thankfully he doesn't back up.
Moving slowly, I brush my lips over his, my breath hot against his mouth.
He shudders as I whisper, “Do you want my cock in that tight ass?”
“Yes.” His shoulders fall like simply admitting it gives him relief. “Please, Alex." His fingers dig into my waist, holding on like he’ll break without it.
Reaching behind me, I shut the bedroom door with a firm click, then tug the young alpha toward the walk-in closet.
It’s barely big enough for the two of us, but I don’t want anyone else to overhear.
“In here.” My voice is steady, even though my pulse is already climbing. “We have to be quiet. Can you do that?”
Tadeo’s nod is too quick, his breath sharp, ragged. Then his eyes drop to my mouth, and before I can say another word, he’s on me. His lips crash into mine—desperate, bruising—teeth catching hard enough on my bottom lip to make me groan.
And fuck, I feel it straight down my spine.
Tadeo fists my shirt and tears it straight off my body, shredding the fabric like it insulted him. Then his hands are all over me, wild and greedy. Fisting my hair, yanking at my hips, dragging his nails down my back like he’s trying to brand me.
And I fucking love it.
I smirk when his fingers fumble at my belt in a clumsy rush. He tugs too hard at the buckle, nearly toppling me off balance before he finally wrestles it loose. My fly’s next, and the zipper sticks halfway, making him curse under his breath.
I chuckle, low. “Need me that bad, huh?” I tilt my head back against the coats, grinning. “Can’t even work a fucking zipper?”
Tadeo pauses, muscles taut, his grip tightening on the fabric as he glares up at me. Those dark brown eyes flash dangerously, and he snarls—showing me teeth. “Shut up,” he growls, rough and sexy, before dragging the zipper down in one savage pull.
My cock is already straining as I eat up the sight of him like this. Tadeo doesn’t lose control often—but when he does? It’s fucking glorious.
The second my jeans are undone, Tadeo growls low in his chest, grabbing my shoulder and spinning me so hard the bar overhead rattles from the force. His teeth nip at my neck and back as my face presses into the coats.
Instinct claws at me the second he shoves me around, a growl ripping out of my throat before I can stop it. Every nerve bristles, my body screaming to snatch control back, to remind him who the hell I am.
But I stay put as the fight simmers hot under my skin, restless and wild—like my own blood doesn’t want me giving in.
And fuck if that doesn’t make me harder.
Bottoming has always felt wrong to me.
An alpha’s supposed to take, not bend. While plenty of my kind will spread for their pack alpha without a second thought, my instincts revolt every time.
Taking a cock always sparks an agitation that prickles through me like fire ants under my skin.
Being this exposed and vulnerable feels wrong…
and for some reason it makes me fucking throb.
Because no matter how my body resists, some twisted part of me loves the fight—the push and pull, the way surrender tastes like sin.
“Fuck, you smell good,” Tadeo snarls against my neck as his fingers hook into my waistband. Then he jerks my jeans down, rough and uncoordinated, dragging them over my thighs with more strength than finesse.
I don’t help him.
I let him wrestle with the denim, feeding off his frantic energy as he gets closer and closer to breaking. God, I love him like this—wild, clumsy, desperate. Unraveling right in my hands.
His breath comes hot and ragged against my neck, his hands shaking as they drag over my hips. Then the thick heat of his cock grinds against me through his jeans, and my cock twitches hard.
That’s it. Frenzy’s fun, but I don’t want teasing anymore. I want him buried in me.
“Lube,” I gasp, tipping my head toward the shelf.
For a second, the heat of Tadeo’s body disappears. I hear the soft scrape of plastic, the sharp pop of the cap. My stomach tightens, anticipation coiling hot and heavy in my gut.
The first slick touch of his fingers makes me groan low. He’s clumsy at first, too eager, but he slows when I arch back into him, forcing patience into his movements. The lube’s cold, then warming, and he spreads it over me, dipping into my asshole with one, then two fingers.
“Good,” I whisper, widening my stance to steady myself. “Don’t rush. Get me ready.”
But Tad’s patience is hanging by a thread. His breath is hot and ragged against my shoulder, his body shaking. Then his fingers vanish—and his cock replaces them. Thick. Heavy. Unforgiving.
“Fuck!” I groan, my hands clawing at the wall of coats as he slams into me. The bar creaks, rattling above us. My whole body jolts forward, but he doesn’t stop. He drives into me, again and again, raw and desperate, his grip bruising my hips as he drags me back against every thrust.
The bar finally snaps with a crack. Coats and shirts rain down around us, tangling around my arms. I choke out a laugh, but it turns into a guttural groan when he hits that wonderful spot inside me, pounding it over and over until my knees nearly buckle.
“Jesus, Tad,” I snarl as I push my ass back, forcing him deeper. The burn’s too much, too good. My cock drips against the fallen shirts, smearing precum. Every nerve in my body’s screaming, begging for release.
His scent’s everywhere—coconut, lime, grapefruit—sharp and bright and overwhelming until it’s all I taste.
I slam my hand back, clutching at his hip, his ass, anything I can grab. “Harder,” I rasp, and he gives it to me. Rutting deep, reckless, his teeth scraping my shoulder.
The orgasm rips through me like lightning. My cum spills hot across the pile of coats, and I groan so loud it echoes in the tiny closet. My body clenches down around him, desperate to keep him inside.
Tadeo snarls into my neck, raw and feral, and then he’s flooding me with heat. Thick, hot spurts pulse deep inside as he locks me against the wall, rutting shallow thrusts until he’s wrung dry.
We stay tangled like that, panting, my body trembling with aftershocks. His chest presses into my back, heavy, his breath stuttering against my ear. His hands roam my chest like he’s still trying to claim me.
The closet reeks of sex and citrus. My legs shake, clothes ruined around our feet, but I don’t give a shit.
We stay there for a beat too long, my body still trembling with the aftershocks as Tadeo’s cock twitches gently inside me. His breath is hot against my ear, uneven, and the weight of him presses me into the wall like we’re fused together.
Then—three soft knocks.
We both freeze.
The door creaks open, and my stomach drops.
Knox stands there, arms crossed and eyes blazing. His gaze cuts between us, landing hardest on me.
“Are you two out of your goddamn minds?” His voice comes out firm, a whisper-yell that somehow feels louder than if he’d shouted.
“Skyla’s right down the hall.” He jabs a finger toward the door.
“She’s far too fucking sensitive to walk in on this.
” His nostrils flare as he leans in closer, eyes locked on mine.
“Omegas need to feel like the center of the fucking universe when they first join a pack. They need to feel wanted. Desired. Not like their brand-new alphas can’t keep their cocks out of each other long enough to give her what she needs. ”
I open my mouth—because, Christ, that’s dramatic as hell—but then I immediately shut it.
I know Knox has been reading up on omegas all week, scrolling op-eds from clueless betas writing for glossy magazines, acting like they’re experts.
But he’s wound so tight today, strung up on nerves and responsibility, that I don’t dare to poke the bear. Not now.
Instead, I nod. Then I glance over my shoulder at Tadeo, who’s still buried deep inside me, stiff as stone. “Pull out slow,” I murmur.
He does move carefully, but it still leaves a sting in my ass that makes me wince, then clench around nothing. My cock twitches from the loss, but I keep my face even as Knox’s glare burns through us.
“Clean up,” he orders, voice like gravel. “Then get your asses in the kitchen so we can figure out dinner. Skyla needs to eat.”
The second he’s gone, the tension in the air shifts.
Tadeo’s breath ghosts hot against the back of my neck before he whispers, almost too soft to hear, “Thank you.” Then his lips brush my skin—a quick kiss to the nape of my neck, gentle in a way that guts me more than the frantic fucking ever could.
I love that I was able to settle him.
Hopefully, the seconds between now and when he’s actually allowed to lay with Skyla, won’t be too hard for the young alpha.