Chapter 6
Chapter Six
“Change takes time. More than what will ever feel justified in situations like this.” Quentin’s voice cuts in. He’s leaning in the doorway, hands tucked into his pockets.
“Apologies for interrupting. Our Omega is putting together her nest, so I thought now would be the best time to discuss Mr. Michaels.”
Right. Caleb. The Alpha who broke my mate’s heart.
I always knew Skye still had feelings for him. What I didn’t expect was for him to feel the same. Not when it was his decision to leave her.
“What about him?” I grunt, hands running up and down Sly’s back to distract myself from the jumble of emotions still pounding through my skull.
Sly is the one who answers. “He’s her Fate-matched mate.”
Frowning, I glance at Quentin, who nods solemnly. We knew it was likely, but my feelings for the other Alpha are still muddied by his decision to leave her.
A throat clears, and Emmett appears.
“About that, I just got off the phone with Omi.”
Silke is his grandmother, or omi as he calls her. A strong Beta woman who raised him and his siblings after their parents died. She comes from old money and is rooted in tradition, yet she’s adapted better to the changes in our world than a lot of people her age.
“When I told her about Caleb and Skye’s connection, she told me an interesting story. A friend of her mother’s went through something similar. Finding their Fate-matched mate but not realizing they shared the connection.”
He fidgets with the long necklace dangling against his chest, an uncomfortable twist to his lips. “According to Omi, being separated caused them to experience something similar to bond sickness.”
My stomach sinks. Bond sickness is something that occurs when a bonded pair is separated for long periods of time. Their bodies cannot handle the strain of the distance and the lack of physical contact with their mates.
My first instinct is to deny it, but logical thought takes precedence and points out all the signs that make his theory make sense. Like the hormonal imbalance that makes it difficult for Skye to manage her emotions and her struggle to gain weight.
“Fuck,” Sly curses, leaning away from my chest to scrub a hand over his face.
“Indeed,” Quentin scowls. “We need to get Caleb here. Tomorrow.”
Crossing my arms, I turn and stare out the window. Evening has arrived, and the sky outside is a dark navy blue that paints the back garden in thick shadows.
“I don’t think it will be that easy,” Sly admits. “He ran as soon as he realized.”
“He doesn’t have a choice. Making her sick is unacceptable.” Gravel coats my words, determination bleeding through my body. Whatever it takes, I’m going to get that asshole here so he can fix what he broke.
Because I have no doubt he’s experiencing side effects from the bond sickness, he just doesn’t know it yet.
Quentin mentions calling the label to get in touch with him, and leaves, taking Emmett with him.
The door clicks shut behind them, leaving me and Sterling to soak in the silence. Tangerine and rosewood burst around us as his hands travel down my stomach to the top of my shorts.
“Let me help take the edge off your anger.”
He pushes my gym shorts over my thighs, and my cock springs free, already half hard just from the feel of his hands on my body.
My hands fist at my sides when he drops to his knees in front of me, rough palms carving a path up the sides of my legs before one wraps around my length.
His touch is firm, strangling me in his grip as he smears the pre-cum leaking from the tip.
I don’t need soft and slow, and he knows it.
The warmth of his mouth as he swallows me down pulls a groan from my lips. I grab the sides of his head, just holding him for now. More of me glides into his mouth as he bobs his head, that wicked tongue of his carving patterns into the sensitive underside of my cock.
“Fuck, Sly.”
Grinning around me, he pulls back until just the flared head sits on his tongue, and then he taps the side of my thigh, silently communicating that he wants me to take over.
I don’t hold back as I push into his throat, my pace quickening as fire burns down my spine.
He groans around me; the vibrations drawing my balls up. I’m close.
Warm golden-brown eyes stare up at me through a sheen of tears as I pound against the back of his throat. He gags, constricting around me, and I lose it, knees shaking as I come across his tongue.
“Shit.” I stumble backward until my legs hit the bed. The mattress is cool against my overheated skin as I collapse against it. “Get over here.”
He sinks beside me, lips meeting mine in a hungry kiss. I can taste myself on his tongue, and I love it. I want all my mates to wear my scent and taste me on their tongues. Every hour of every day.
Grabbing the back of his neck, I flip us over so he’s pressed against the mattress. “Do you want me to fuck you, or should I get Bellamy in here to take us together?”
“You. We both know Bellamy will take his sweet time getting down here, and I don’t want to wait.”
Giving him a smoldering look, I open the table beside the bed and grab a bottle of lube. We may be rough with each other, but I’d never take him without prep. His body isn’t made for it, not the way our Omega’s is.
The liquid is cold when I coat my hands with it, watching as he slides his cargo pants to the floor.
His shirt gets tossed aside, exposing every inch of his dark umber skin.
I shuffle between his thighs, tongue darting across my lips as I take him in.
He’s only a few inches shorter than me, but muscle packs beneath his softness.
Slicking my cock, I give his the same treatment, enjoying his pleased hiss at the contact. His eyes fall shut, head leaning back against the bed as I slide my fingers down to tease his hole.
I’m thrown back to the first time we did this. Two fumbling teenagers who knew they would get the shit kicked out of them if anyone found out. It was messy and painful, neither of us knowing what we were doing, only that there wasn’t anywhere else we’d rather be.
Sly was my first love. The tether that kept my soul from fragmenting each time I was forced to witness my father’s abuse of the women in our community. He’s my best friend. My person.
One finger slides into his heat with ease, so I add another, stretching him with purpose. His eyes peek open, tenderness reflected at me as he senses my thoughts through our bond. When a third finger pushes him open, he grunts, thighs twitching as I work him over.
“Get inside me already.”
Raising a brow, I make him take a fourth finger instead of giving in to his demand. He knows who is in charge here, and it isn’t him.
“If you keep that up,” he pants, “I’ll come before your cock touches me.”
He relaxes as I push inside, grimacing from the burn of the stretch when I slam the rest of the way in.
Rolling my hips, I give him slow, firm thrusts.
Watching him take me is almost as mesmerizing as the feel of his warm walls locking around me each time I slide deep, hitting all the spots that force curses from his lips.
We don’t talk. Lost in the sensations. Who needs words when you can feel every thought as it pours down our bond and directly into each other’s souls?
Faster.
Harder.
Deeper.
More.
I know his every plea before he can speak it.
Slapping skin fills the room, accompanied by my panting breaths and his deep moans. His cock twitches against his stomach, pre-cum streaming to pool at the base.
“Onyx.” He gasps when I take him in my hand, pumping in time with my hurried thrusts. Fingers dig into my thighs, grounding him as he’s forced over the edge with a keen. His cum coats my hand and his stomach.
I pop my fingers into my mouth to clean them. It’s the saltiness of his flavor that sends me skydiving into an orgasm. My release floods his ass, leaking out around my knot where it swells and pulses.
Flopping onto the bed beside him, I huff out, “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
We lay there for a few minutes before he heaves himself to his feet and heads into the bathroom. He returns with a washcloth and tosses it to me.
“I’m going to start dinner.” His lips press to mine in a quick kiss, and then he’s gone, leaving me to stare up at the ceiling.
I’m playing a couple of rounds of a new battle royale game with Bellamy when Skye flutters into the room. We’ve been at the estate for three nights now. She’s barely slept through any of them.
If I knew where that asshole, Caleb, lived, I would have dragged him here and locked him in.
He’s hurting my Omega, and it pisses me the hell off.
Skye drops onto my lap, her arms winding around my neck and her face burying against my throat.
“Decided to leave your nest for a bit, bubbles?”
Running my hand up her spine, I tangle my fingers in her white-blonde hair as she hums her agreement. Soft kisses trail up my throat, her teeth grazing my bond marks. Honey-sweet perfume fills the air, hardening my cock where it juts against my thigh.
Pinching her chin, I tilt her head back to press my lips to hers. Devouring her with slow intensity.
“Is my Omega feeling needy?”
“You’re too tempting sitting here in these tiny gym shorts with no shirt on,” she teases the words onto my lips as I hold her.
“Before you begin tearing each other’s clothes off, I have news,” Quentin cuts in. “The FCDA has found Orbital Somatic’s manager. She is safe and recovering at a hospital in Alabama.”
All eyes turn to him as he clicks on the news, grimacing when his eyes find mine.
On the screen, images from the raid on the breeding ring’s hideout pair with stills from a massive compound. Reading the subtitles, my breath catches.
They took down another anti-designation cult.
That’s two in less than three months.
Hope is a fragile thing, but I can feel it blooming in my chest. With the right push, we could finally see designation protection laws put into place.
Something wet hits my chest.
Looking down, Skye watches the TV with a tear-soaked face. “Sorry.” She scrubs her face, a small sob hiccuping from her lips. “I d-don’t know why I’m c-crying. I just feel s-so relieved.”
Bellamy leans over to tuck himself into the crook of her shoulder. “Don’t apologize for your feelings, dandelion. You’ve been stressed and worried about that Omega. It’s natural to be overwhelmed now that she’s been found.”
I don’t mention that it isn’t just Skye’s relief she’s feeling. If the label called us with this news, they will have told Orbital Somatic. Caleb’s reactions could be fueling the overflow from Skye.
Sly meets my eyes from the bar where he’s playing a game of chess with Emmett. Without words, we reach a silent agreement.
Whatever it takes, we’re tracking Caleb down this week. The distance between them is no longer sustainable. Not when their connection is causing so much of our Omega’s pain.