Chapter 5
Adrian
Leo props himself up on his elbow and stares down at me, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.
The sound of his breathing is loud, even above the din rumbling from downstairs, and the hazel of his eyes is washed out in the dim light, but it’s impossible to miss his pupils dilating, the awestruck and reverent way they widen.
It’s as if he thinks he’s looking at something special.
I want to look away, but before I can, he slides a hand along my jaw, holding me in place.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice a deep rumble between us.
Slick pulses between my legs. His nostrils flare and I know he can smell it.
Why he thinks he even has to ask is beyond me—I’d give him everything if I could.
If he genuinely wanted it, if it meant I wasn’t going to ruin his life, he could take everything.
But selfishly, I can take this. He’s here tonight, he wants me.
I can let him take everything he’ll give me.
And I’ve wanted him to kiss me since we were fourteen.
“Yes,” I say again, biting my lip.
He strokes my bottom lip with his thumb.
He’s done nothing and I’m all heat, slick pouring out of me in a way it’s never done before outside my heat.
The closest I’d gotten to this was before I came here, when I used to jerk off and finger myself with my face buried in the nest I’d made with his clothes.
And now I’m drenched. All from a hand on my face, a thumb on my lip.
When he moves down, he does it so slowly, telegraphing every move as if to give me a chance to change my mind. I pant, searching his eyes as they dart from mine to my lips. He brushes his mouth against mine so delicately I moan.
Leo’s cock flexes against my back, and his low growl rushes over my lips before he presses against me, firmer this time. I can’t stop myself from pushing up into it, begging him for more.
His growl this time is louder. He rolls me onto my back and stretches out on top of me. Then he slides both hands up my neck, holding my face gently as he touches my lips with his tongue, so tentatively I can’t help keening into it, sliding my tongue out to briefly touch his.
It’s electric, jolting through me. His hands tighten on the back of my head as he pushes his tongue into my mouth, and I meet him.
I bring both hands to his head, stroking my fingers over the short spikes there.
I’d fantasised about kissing Leo so much—slipping my hands into his thick hair while he devoured me.
I’d imagined how soft the strands would feel under my fingertips.
The prickles don’t diminish the fantasy, because this is Leo.
My fantasies never could have done justice to the way his tongue gently caresses mine, the careful way he’s holding my head in place, the explosion of his scent.
A desire rolls through me, so powerful I feel like I’ve been hit by a tsunami and all I can do is hold on.
He breaks the kiss but stays close, lips touching mine like he can’t stop himself from kissing while he speaks.
“I ... Addie … I want … can I …” he says, hushed.
“Anything,” I say on an exhale and search his eyes.
He swallows, scent spiking.
“Skin,” he says in a rush.
I reach down for the bottom of my singlet to yank it off.
His hand stops me. Anxiety spikes. He’s going to think I’m the whore that I am, so forward, too forward.
The swallow tattoo on the back of my hand, marking me as an omega prostitute, is confirmation enough.
We’re not sex workers—there was no real choice here.
We’re not like the omegas who choose to work as a service to help alphas through their rut.
They have familial alphas, kin. They have a choice to live that life with their alpha’s permission.
But the swallow is a brand. A brand I’m flashing as I try to rip my singlet off, telling him I can be owned by whatever alpha can afford me.
“No,” he says and smiles nervously. And dear God, my beautiful, hulking Leo is nervous?
“Let me?” he asks in that same tone, his hand clasping mine, covering the tattoo like it’s nothing.
“Yes.” I would be embarrassed by the high-pitched, desperate quality to my voice, to the way I arch into his touch, except he’s kissing me again, deeper and without control now.
His hand skates under my singlet, his huge palm splaying on the bare skin of my torso. And I have to break the kiss to gasp, throw my head back. He shifts immediately to my neck, kissing, lightly sucking, moving so achingly slowly in the direction of my mating gland.
It throbs with my need for him to bite me, to claim me. I’m not even in heat and yet my gland aches for that bite, and slick pours out of me as if I were.
When his lips close over it, I cry out, arching into his mouth. His hands tighten on the back of my neck, on my stomach. Dear God, I want him to bite me. I want it so fucking bad.
But if he bites me, he’ll be in a world of shit.
Biting omegas who don’t belong to you is a criminal offense—there’s a reason we wear a special collar during heats with the johns who pay to spend it with us.
It’s bad enough I’m letting him spend the night with me, I’m not going to let him get fucking arrested.
“Leo,” I pant, but I can’t move him away from me—it feels too good.
It pains me to say the words, to contradict everything I’m feeling.
“You … can’t …”
He growls, incisors digging in but not breaking skin.
Jesus, my scent is telling him to do it.
And he’s still a young alpha, his control unwieldy—why did I think we wouldn’t end up in this position?
I know he didn’t mean to command me with enough force to almost crush my skull, it’s his lack of control combined with the horrible situation I’m putting him in.
I need to find some control, though. I can bring him back to himself. That’s my job. It’s the job I’ve always wanted with him, and even if only for a little while, I’m going to bloody well do it.
“Leo,” I rasp out. “Please … not there.”
He’s not listening to me, teeth digging in, hips rolling his enormous cock against my material-covered entrance.
“Not yet,” I manage.
He pulls away and I whimper at the loss. He brings his face back into my line of sight, lips hovering over mine as he says urgently, “In your heat, then? Addie? In your heat?”
I clench my eyes shut tightly. It’s impossible, but I have to lie.
“Yes,” I whisper. Then with the conviction I actually feel. “Yes.”
He growls, the hand under my singlet skating up to caress my pectoral muscle.
He shifts down my body, using both hands to slide the material up, following his path with his lips.
I’m on fire everywhere his mouth touches me.
These are delicate kisses, worshipful presses of lips on the dip of my stomach, on my ribs, a rush of a shaky breath over my nipple before he licks it so gently I can only gasp.
My whole body vibrates with the need for more, for everything.
He pushes the singlet up and over my head, and I blink up at him.
He’s watching me back, his eyes as heated as his scent, his lips shiny, breathing erratic.
He’s in the same singlet from the night before and there’s just so much of him—I need to feel his skin.
My hands run up the material.
“Please.” I’ve never been so forward, never wanted to be, but I’m rewarded with a growl and Leo ripping his singlet off and blanketing me.
And my God, skin on skin, it’s heaven. Our chests slide together as he takes my mouth again in a brutal kiss.
My hands run up and down his muscled back, over his shoulders, down his powerful biceps.
His hands slip under my back and he hauls me up, pressing me closer to him.
I spread my legs and push my soaking hole against his enormous cock confined in his jeans.
We rut against one another, mouths devouring, panting, our chests sliding together with our sweat. Our scents mingle in a haze of lust, of desire, of something deeper, something I refuse to name.
His tongue thrusts against mine in time with the way he’s thrusting his cock at my entrance, and it’s too much.
I throw my head back as I start to come. My cock pulses in the confines of my pants as my hole ripples with an orgasm that aches.
“Oh, Addie, fuck,” he pants out, and I feel it then too. The wetness of his cock as he shoves against me. His lips seal over my Adam’s apple, biting, sucking, muffling the growling sound of his groans as he comes, hips working powerfully as he shudders.
My body sags once my orgasm passes, and I’m crushed in his arms as he trembles through the last of his own. I tighten my hands on his back and hold him, hold him like I never, ever have to let him go.
He lowers me down gently once he’s got his breathing back under control, and I have to bite my lip to stop from begging him to stay, to never leave. My nest is saturated in his scent. I’m saturated in it. He covers me with his body, a comforting weight holding all of my pieces in place.
I listen to him breathe, my own breaths harsh like his, a rhythm between us as we both deal with the aftermath of whatever the fuck that was. Because that was too intense for a couple who didn’t even get their pants off.
Leo kisses my neck, turns his head from the crook between my shoulder and throat, and looks up at me.
I tip my head down to meet his eyes, and I’m met with the most disarming, shy smile I’ve ever seen.
“That was fucking incredible,” he says, eyes crinkling at the corners.
And I can’t help it, I laugh, because that there’s the real understatement of the century.