Chapter 36
Lark
Saint hauled me upstairs to his room as soon as we made it home. As if I might slip away if he loosened his grip even a little. He was calmer in his own space with familiar scents surrounding him, but not so calm that he let me out of his hold.
I was filthy from the dust settling in the air due to the warehouse collapse, so I needed a shower.
Saint was worse after having dug through debris before I found him.
I did convince him to let me down long enough for us to undress, and then we showered awkwardly.
Washing your hair while being hefted by a naked alpha is not convenient.
It’s also not conducive to sneaking peeks of said naked and soaking wet alpha.
The things an omega does to keep her alpha from losing it.
Good lord. I never thought I would so much as think those words. And after the way he treated me, I should probably make him suffer. Grovel a little bit. But I won’t.
He’s been hurting. And after today’s meltdown, I don’t think it’s all because of his mom’s death. Sure, that has to be part of it. I lived through it myself. I know how devastating it can be. But there has to be more.
We’ve been lying here in Saint’s bed for the better part of three hours.
Somewhere between carrying me into his room and forcing me to sit on his lap while I brushed my teeth, the growling stopped.
Maybe when he wakes up, he’ll actually be able to talk to me and explain what the hell has been going on in his mind.
I get my wish about thirty minutes later. He starts to wake and then panics when he realizes I’m not locked in his arms.
“Lark!” he yells, sitting bolt upright in bed.
“I’m here,” I say from my chair in the corner. “You loosened your grip about an hour ago and I sneaked out to brush through my hair and find some clothes.”
I’m currently wearing an oversized tee and some tube socks I found in his dresser.
I thought about putting on a pair of his boxers but decided that I didn’t want anything to stand between Saint and my scent.
I have questions for him, and I’m going to drive him crazy until I ring every single answer from him.
“Come here,” he says, patting the mattress next to him. “My alpha’s losing his shit with you over there.”
“Not until you answer a few questions for me.”
He flops back on the bed, groaning as he does. “Can this wait until later? I’m still… not right.”
That tugs a little at my heartstrings. I power through.
“Nope. Today you finally tell me why you’ve been such an ass. I know you feel the same thing I do. You wouldn’t have been such a dick to Seth.”
He growls. “Seth deserved way more than I gave him.”
I suppress an eyeroll. Remember that stuff about keeping my alpha happy. It’s a tough job, made for tough omegas.
“Either way. You have basically ignored me for weeks, then get all growly alpha-hole when someone says hi.”
He sits back up and I see that there is steel in his eyes. “He touched you.”
Saint’s voice is pure gravel. I fucking love it. Warmth shoots right to my core, and my salty, caramel scent fills the room. He groans, dragging a hand down his face.
I can almost hear Cammie’s voice saying, “Our plan is working!”
“Saint, I’m crazy about you. It’s partly biology. I mean, how can it not be? I barely know you.” I swallow, willing myself not to cry. “But before we met I felt…”
He gets up from the bed and prowls toward me. I have seen attractive men before. I live with three of them. Saint is something different. He moves like he knows exactly what he's doing and doesn't particularly care if you notice.
He’s built like an athlete. Wide shoulders, biceps that look like they do work and aren’t just for show. His pecs narrow into a tight waist and lean hips, and just below…
Holy shit.
His absolutely perfect dick has a silver barbell through the tip. My mouth waters at the thought of running my tongue across the tip. Testing the feel of the metal in my mouth. Drinking down his ginger flavored cum.
Slick coats the inside of my thighs and Saint practically stumbles to his knees in front of me.
“Princess,” He drags a hand down his face, “you have to stop doing that if we’re going to finish this conversation.”
I regain my senses, barely, then push him back a little. “We absolutely will finish this conversation, or I’ll go find Graham and Silas.”
His pupils snap tight.
Yeah, I’m diabolical.
“So tell me,” I prompt. “Why have you been such an ass?” He opens his mouth, but before he can speak, I add, “And make it the full truth.”
He takes a deep breath and then lets it all out. “You know about my mom. That’s part of it. But it’s not all of it. Not even the worst of it.”
I place my hand on his shoulder. “Tell me.”
He sits back and he looks so absolutely torn inside that it breaks my heart. I scoot off the chair and kneel in front of him. “What is it?”
“Did Silas or Graham tell you anything about my accident?”
I nod. “They told me that you were holding back three alphas while their omega was trapped in a car.”
“Did they tell you that she died? That we couldn’t get her out fast enough?”
A lump forms in my throat. That would be terrible to see. Devastating.
He sniffs, and wipes at his nose. “My rotator cuff was torn trying to keep them out of harm’s way. They ended up pushing me down. One died trying to save her. He had on no gear.” His voice breaks. “The other two, they were severely burned. It was—”
Sobs overwhelm him. The sound of it—this big, controlled, contained man—tears at something in my chest.
“Saint, honey. Shhh.” I rock him.
After a while he says, “In my profession you see death constantly.
Not just fires. That's the smallest part of the job, actually.
Most shifts, it's car accidents. Overdoses.
Medical calls where you show up knowing there's nothing you can do, but you try anyway.
You learn to compartmentalize. You have to. There's no other way to keep doing it."
He looks at his hands. "The problem is that compartments fill up after a while. You don't always notice until something gets in that doesn't fit. Something you can't file away. Something that just sits there."
He's quiet for a second. "I've seen what it does to guys who don't deal with it. Guys who drink too much. Who can't be in a relationship. Who leave the job or, worse, stay in until it breaks them. I told myself I was handling it fine. That I was different."
His jaw tightens. "Then that call happened and—" He looks at me, his eyes still rimmed with tears. “I swore I would never do that to myself. That I could never put myself through that kind of torture.”
That’s why he denied our connection. He’s been afraid this whole time. Afraid to love me.
“What changed your mind?” I ask.
He gives me a watery smile. “You are not easy to resist. You're too perceptive for your own good. And you make me laugh when I'm trying very hard not to. When BaseballFucker put his hands on you I wanted to rage. But then when I thought you were in that building, I realized that it doesn’t matter if I accept this or not. The pain is coming either way.” He swallows. “I’d rather have you than spend my life running from it.”
I kiss him and it is… everything. Hot, passionate, loving, compassionate.
“I want you to start seeing a counselor,” I say between kisses. "Not because something's wrong with you. Because what you carry is real and heavy and you've been carrying it alone." I pull back far enough to look at him. "And I need my alpha to take care of himself. That's important to me."
He nods. “Silas said the same thing. I found someone who specializes in first responders and medical providers.”
“Good,” I say, leaning in for another kiss.
“I haven’t made an appointment yet.”
I kiss him again. “Tomorrow.”
He wraps his strong arms around me. “Tell me to stop,” he whispers.
I keep kissing him.
“Princess,” he says again. Firmer this time. “Tell me to stop. You deserve more than this. I need to court you.”
I look at him. This man, who spent weeks running from me, is now trying to slow down for me. I appreciate it, but I’m not waiting.
“My omega is clawing to get out, and I want this to be me and you, not you and her.” When he doesn’t consent, I add, “I want you, Saint. Now.”
He has me in his bed in a matter of seconds.
I lie there with his T-shirt riding high at my hips and his tube socks pulled up to my knees.
Slick seeps from my pussy, as he stands over top of me, that perfect dick standing at attention.
The tip flashes in the light from the bedside lamp.
I give into my urge to taste and touch him.
I squeeze his swollen base and drag my tongue slowly over the piercing, tasting the salty bead of pre-cum leaking from his slit.
He hisses in appreciation. “Princess, fuck, that’s—”
I take him deeper until my nose presses against his knot, gagging softly. The metal of his piercing slides along my tongue and I moan around him, letting the vibration travel up his shaft.
“Feel good?” I say around a mouthful of his cock. He tastes like ginger, molasses, and something earthier.
He moans his answer, wrapping his fist in my hair and guiding my mouth down to the base of his knot and back again. I hollow out my cheeks and suck hard, flicking my tongue against his piercing when my mouth slides back toward the tip.
“Jesus,” he hisses, then tugs at my hair until I pop my lips from his shaft. “No more of that. The first time I come in you, it’s going to be while I’m knot deep.”
“You can knot my mouth,” I say in my brattiest omega voice.
“Fuck, Lark. You can’t just say those things to me.”
He reaches down and pulls the hem of my T-shirt up over my head, then tosses it to the floor. “I’ll be sleeping with that under my pillow for a while.”
I smirk. I like the thought of him putting my clothes in his room so that my scent is there when he sleeps.
“What about the socks?” I lie back and offer a foot so he can pull off one tube sock.
His eyes rake from my head to my feet and back up. “No, I want those to stay on.” The casual possession in his voice makes even more slick gush out of me. I love that he wants me like this, half-dressed in his clothes, marked by him.
And then he’s on me. He buries his face between my thighs like a starving man, licking through my folds before sucking my clit hard.
“Fuck, Lark. You taste like perfection. I’ve been imagining this since that night in the car.”
I weave my fingers through his hair pulling him closer as I buck against his talented mouth. I’m right on the edge when he pulls back with a wicked grin, lips shiny with my slick. Then he plunges two fingers deep inside me, mouth back on my core, as I ride wave after wave of pleasure.
“Knot me,” I beg when he sits up wiping his mouth. There’s a smug look on his beautiful face.
“I’ve been dreaming of this since that night in the car.” He crawls between my legs, pulling one knee over his shoulder.
He pushes in inch by torturous inch. I feel every ridge, every vein, and especially that silver piercing dragging along my walls. By the time he bottoms out I’m panting and clawing at his shoulders. And then he starts to move in perfect rhythm. In and out until I’m screaming.
“Oh god, Saint. Please!”
“You want my knot, princess? Want me deep inside this tight little omega pussy until your clenching around my knot?”
I vigorously nod my head, unable to speak.
“Say, it.”
The words come out as a whine, I’m so close to the edge.
“Say it,” he says, again. “Tell your alpha how bad you need to be knotted.”
“Yes, alpha,” I pant. “Please knot me.”
He pounds into me then, losing control of his careful rhythm. His balls slap against my ass, and I swear I can feel that bead on his piercing hitting against something that is just so… fucking right.
Words rip out of him.
“Fuck, yeah—"
“Yes, like that—"
“Come for your alpha—"
“Princess, fuck—"
“Squeeze me—"
“Please, Saint, knot me. I need it,” I beg, voice cracking into a whine.
And then he slams into me all the way, locking us together. My orgasm is simultaneous. I contract and pulse around his swollen knot.
Saint’s orgasm follows mine. “Fuck,” he pants against my neck. “That was...”
I turn my head so I can kiss him. “That was perfect.” When our kiss ends, he rolls us so that I’m lying on top of him.
“Lark.” He places his palm on my exposed cheek. “Princess, I’m sorry. Whatever it takes, I’ll make this up to you.”
I prop up just enough to look him in the eyes. His thumb drags along my jaw.
“You don’t have to make anything up to me. We’ve worked it out. But I was serious about the therapy.”
He nods, then pulls my head down and kisses me. It’s a slow dance of tongues and lips. There’s passion in it, but something else. Care. Tenderness.
I lay my head back on his chest when the kiss ends.
We’re still locked together, his knot pulsing softly inside me while he strokes my back.
Every tiny shift sends sparks through my oversensitive walls.
The gentle pressure of his fingers working over my back pulls me toward sleep.
I don't want to sleep yet. I want to know him.
I push myself all the way up so that I’m straddling his hips.
“Omega,” he groans.
I thrust a little, feeling his cock grow hard again. He flexes his hips in response. The silver inside me rubs the side of my walls.
“Why the piercing?” I ask, thrusting slowly. Testing his alpha.
He grips my hips. “Don’t like tattoos, so decided on that.”
I grind against him again. Harder this time. “That’s not an answer.”
His breath hitches. “Silas and Graham wanted pack tattoos. Graham got a C.”
“The one that looks like carbon on the periodic table?”
He pushes deeper inside me. “Yeah, except it’s for Pack Caron.”
I circle my hips, meeting his hips push for push. “And Silas?”
Saint flips us so that I’m on the bottom again. “He got a symbol of a three-pointed star.”
“And you?” I wrap my legs tight around his waist.
“I got a piercing. Balls on the ends of the barbell have little Cs engraved on them.”
He pulls all the way out, sliding his cock in me slowly so I can feel the pressure from that barbell as he moves deeper inside me.
I grin up at him. “Right now, I’m loving your decision.”