Chapter 25 #2
Quentin kept her pinned against him, using his free hand to reach under her sundress.
His dick had been hard since he’d walked in and caught her perfume, and her defiance had him dying to rut her into submission.
He pushed her panties aside, and roughly plunged two fingers into her pussy, finding it soaked and ready.
Bianca moaned, shuddering and going limp in his arms. Satisfaction rumbled in Quentin’s chest. He moved his fingers steadily, lowering his lips to his omega’s ear.
“I know exactly how you’re built, Countess,” he growled, palming her pussy and rubbing her clit with the heel of his hand. She cried out, hips bucking, slick gushing over his fingers. Quentin purred approvingly. “I know because you’re built for me. You’re mine, Bianca. Did you forget that?”
She squirmed, whimpering softly. “No, King. It’s just–”
“You think I don’t know who you are, mate? You think I don’t see you and want you exactly as you are?” Quentin fingered her harder, faster, rougher, just like he knew she liked it. “If you weren’t going into heat, I’d punish the shit out of you for doubting my love, omega.”
“I’m not–,” Bianca cut herself off, likely realizing she was about to argue with him when she was already on thin ice. She panted, writhing against his fingers even as she tried to keep up the conversation. “How’d you know I was starting my heat? It doesn’t usually come on so suddenly.”
“I’ll tell you after you come,” Quentin answered. He pulled his fingers from her pussy and licked them, letting out a low groan. He sucked his middle finger clean before shoving his index finger between her parted lips. “Taste how perfect you are. You’re even sweeter than usual.”
Bianca obediently swirled her tongue over his fingers then sucked hard, sending a jolt of electricity to his dick. She whined when he pulled his fingers free and thrusted them back into her pussy. Quentin loved how she clenched around him, her inner walls quivering for him.
“I’m going to take care of this sweet pussy for this heat and every other for the rest of your life, Countess, so get used to it,” Quentin murmured, curling his fingers inside her and relishing the way she trembled in response.
“This is my pussy now. You’re mine, omega.
You’ve been perfuming for me since I walked in the room.
And I’m going to reward your body for doing exactly what it’s supposed to do. Ride my fucking fingers, baby.”
Bianca dropped her head back against his chest, eyes fluttering closed as she gave in to sensation, rolling her hips and grinding against his hand.
Quentin slid his other hand into her bra, pinching a taut nipple between his fingers.
She cried out, hips jerking erratically, already so close to the edge.
“You’re my filthy little cum slut and you come whenever I feel like it, ain’t that right?
” Quentin demanded, and he could feel her tightening around his fingers, teetering on a knife’s edge.
He grazed his teeth along her neck, his canines aching to sink into her flesh.
“Tell me you’re coming for me, because you’re my good little whore. ”
“Fuck, King, I’m coming,” she moaned, tremors racking her frame. “I’m your filthy whore. Oh, fuck!”
Quentin kept at it until Bianca had soaked his hand, pussy clamping down on his fingers as she chanted his name.
Her scent threatened to destroy him, and he knew he needed to get her home before he lost himself.
He would have to fuck her first, though, or he wouldn’t be able to think, let alone drive.
“So, how’d you know I was in heat?” When Bianca finally caught her breath enough to speak, she sounded much calmer. “My symptoms are always so mild.”
Quentin huffed a laugh. “You call this mild? You’re feverish and irritable as fuck.
You’re perfuming enough to send most alphas into a rut.
And you threatened to drain the blood of every employee in the moving company because some poor sap got his scent on a few items that are going to your packhouse. ”
Bianca bristled. “The dress that neanderthal touched cost more than–”
He cut her off, bending her over the bed and flipping her dress up to expose her pretty ass.
“You’re extra protective of your territory because you’re in heat.
It’s natural. Your omega instincts are perfect, and that behavior means you’re already nesting.
Now bend over and let me make you come again.
You’ll feel better when your needy cunt is full of your alpha’s cum. ”
Quentin pulled her panties farther to the side, replacing his fingers with the head of his dick. Bianca keened, pressing her hips back to meet him. Quentin groaned, fighting down the need building in his core.
“You know what I think, Countess? I think you never showed typical omega behaviors because you never scented alphas of your caliber,” Quentin told her as he ran his tip up and down her slit, listening to the delicious wet sounds of his dick sliding over her entrance.
“It’s good you didn’t, because if you’d ever perfumed like this before, someone would have claimed your slutty pussy already and I would be killing them right now.
Every stupid motherfucker who blew their shot with you is lucky they did because I wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate anyone who tried to stand between us.
You’re mine, baby doll, and you’ve been waiting for my pack to come along and fuck your perfect pussy the way it was meant to be fucked. ”
Quentin pushed into her slowly, taking his time, and enjoying the way her body welcomed him, coaxing him deeper.
The damp fabric of her panties rubbed along his shaft, the added sensation awakening darker urges.
He breathed deeply, reminding himself that he needed her safe first. Once she was secure in their nest, he could rut her like he wanted to. Like he needed to.
“Feel how you wrap around me, like you know this dick is yours.” Quentin eased back a little then buried himself deep once more. “And you’re goddamn right, Countess. This is your dick and I want you to milk it like you know every fucking drop of my cum belongs to you.”
Bianca whined low in her throat. “Please. I need your cum, alpha.”
Quentin stopped fighting it. He didn’t give himself over to the rut, but he let himself fuck her hard.
He slammed into her again and again, hard and deep, thinking of nothing but the perfection of her pussy stretching for him, her voice calling his name, and the satisfaction of watching her come apart beneath him.
He followed her over the edge, appeasing his primal instincts and knotting her even though they were in a hurry.
He knew he needed to get Bianca to the packhouse before her heat took over completely, but he couldn’t resist the biological imperative to breed her when her pheromones were singing their fucking siren song at him.
“You’re done with this place, and with this life, Bianca Bonnycastle King,” Quentin murmured against her temple while they lay locked together, waiting for his knot to soften.
“When I take my dick out of your pussy, we’re walking out of here and I’m taking you home.
To our home. Your pack is going to tend you through your heat, we’re going to make this shit official, and we’re going to live happily ever after. You got it?”
“Yes, King.”
Quentin could hear the smile in her voice. And he could hear more, so much more, in those two beautiful words: Yes, King.
Yes, King, I believe you. Yes, King, I trust you. Yes, King, I love you. Yes, King, I’m yours.
By the time they reached Crown Hall, Quentin was aching to take her again.
The drive had been torturous. He’d needed her near him, but the scent of her perfume in the enclosed vehicle had nearly driven him out of his fucking mind.
Maybe he should’ve been cautious and borrowed the Phantom so that Bianca and her pheromones could be tucked away in the back of the car, but his instincts wouldn’t allow him to let her out of his sight.
Not with her smelling like nirvana and without his bite on her neck.
She squirmed in her seat, no doubt responding to his desire.
Her heat had well and truly begun, and Quentin was sure she was soaking the leather seats.
He’d tossed her panties aside after they’d fucked in the penthouse, knowing they’d only be in the way.
Bianca wouldn’t be needing panties for a while.
The moment he parked, she was out of her seatbelt and crawling into his lap.
Her poison apple scent flooded his brain as she straddled him, moaning when she felt how hard he was for her.
Her mouth crashed into his hungrily as she ground against him, more of those intoxicating moans sounding low in her throat as she sought friction and sensation.
Quentin growled, gripping her hips and pressing her down harder against his length.
Bianca bit his bottom lip and raked her nails down his arms.
“Goddammit, woman,” he said, wrapping her hair around his fist and yanking her head back so he could try and think. “Let me get you inside.”
Unfortunately, looking at her exposed neck, Quentin wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into it while he buried his dick in her poison apple pussy.
Bianca whined, the sound scrambling his brain further.
He threw the car door open, lifting her easily as he climbed out, and kicked the door shut behind him.
Bianca clamped her legs around his waist, still clawing at his arms, straining to climb up and reclaim his lips.
Somehow, he managed to swipe his key card and get her inside the building, which was empty and dim.
It would’ve been pretty deserted anyway, given it was the weekend, but Teresa had obviously taken care to clear everyone out.
Through his rut-brained haze, Quentin made a mental note to get her a gift, as well as to get something extra for Amelia and Maude.
He was glad that the Tweedles would still be around, though they’d no longer be Bianca’s personal assistants.
They’d accepted positions at Avant-Garde Events (which would be offering planning and coordinating even beyond events hosted at Crown Hall because his mate was nothing if not ambitious) and they seemed excited about channeling their incredible efficiency into getting the enterprise off the ground.
Between his mates’ genius and the Tweedles’ resourcefulness, he had no doubt Avant-Garde would be at the top of the industry in record time.
“Kiss me, damn you!” Bianca demanded, sinking her teeth into Quentin’s neck and snapping all of his attention back to her. “You’re mine and I want you! Touch me. Fuck me. Give me everything!”
He would’ve laughed if he hadn’t been fighting for his fucking life.
His brain was mush, even the small part that had been thinking over practicalities couldn’t stick to the task at hand.
The point was, his plan had been executed well, thanks to the Tweedles’ foresight and Teresa’s dexterity.
The building was secure and the business would be taken care of while Pack King took care of their omega.
“I’m going to give you everything you need and more, baby girl,” Quentin promised, cradling her head and encouraging her to bite down as hard as she wanted. “It’s all already yours.”
Quentin pinned her against the wall with his bodyweight while he pushed the elevator call button. She purred and squirmed, biting down harder. Quentin’s body buzzed with adrenaline as his omega staked her claim, marking him as hers.
The elevator chimed and the doors opened in a whoosh of coconut and cloves. Dante pulled them inside, his dark eyes wild and eager. The pack bond was alive with sensation, the rut almost contagious.
Dante kissed Quentin hard, then kissed Bianca harder on a mouth stained with Quentin’s blood. The sight filled Quentin with primal need. In the next moment, he’d unzipped his pants and thrusted inside Bianca’s bare, dripping pussy, his free hand stroking Dante’s dick through his sweats.
“Yes, more!” Bianca moaned into Dante’s mouth, making both alphas growl.
The elevator doors opened into the packhouse all too soon and not soon enough.
They stumbled inside with Bianca still writhing on Quentin’s dick.
He tried to remember the other very important piece of the plan as her perfume swelled, her instincts responding to her pack’s pheromones.
He felt an all-consuming need growing in his chest. His teeth ached.
The thick scent of French toast pulled him back from the brink of oblivion, reminding him of the important thing.
Pack King had two omegas. They weren’t fully bonded, and one of them was in heat.
Quentin wasn’t sure if Bianca’s instinctive territoriality would perceive Callum as a threat, but there was a chance.
Though the alphas would be able to handle whatever happened, they’d taken precautions in case things got volatile.
“Van and Trouble?” Quentin asked, holding Bianca tight against him as they made their way to the main bedroom and their waiting nest.
“In the guest room,” Dante answered, even though he couldn’t take his eyes or hands off Bianca. “They’re awaiting orders, but Spider is a little…agitated. I think they might’ve synced up.”
Quentin felt another surge of adrenaline.
No wonder Dante had already been so wound up.
It wasn’t just the sensations they’d been sharing through the bond that had the alphas of Pack King on the verge of being lost to their ruts.
They were reacting to a deep-seated biological imperative to claim and fuck and breed.
Because both of Pack King’s omegas were in heat.