Chapter 52 #2
Desire hits harder and faster than it did the prior times. I plunge into a full-blown heat, and I lean toward him, lips pursing for a kiss as my nerve endings scream wildly, all of them arguing over which one of them he should touch first.
One-handed, Colter scoops me up and clutches me to his side. I cling to him like a koala, wrapping my legs tightly around his toned waist as he grabs his cell from his other pocket, already walking, urgency quickening his stride.
We move smoothly toward the exit as he dictates to his phone. "Text Team X. Say: Brylee's in heat. Car. Now."
"HOLY FUCK. You smell that?" some lanky alpha in all black clothing yells from the other side of the mall balcony.
But his voice is distant and metallic, and I can't make sense of what he's fussed about. Don't care to. Because my mate has his hand on my ass, and his broad shoulders look like they need to be kissed.
In a drunken daze, I bend my head and start to kiss a line along the seam of his shirt, heading in the direction of his neck.
My chest presses against him, and suddenly my nipples are so sensitive, so peaked and ready.
It's as if matches have just been struck, the tips flaming, burning.
I rub myself against Colter's broad pecs, and a breathy exhale of pleasure escapes me.
He breaks into a run.
"Send it!" Colter yells at the phone to shoot off the text as a group of alphas turn in our direction.
Some start to jog along their own side of the balcony, parallel to us, a crowd of them starting to gather, their own alpha scents reacting to mine, growing more potent. More disgusting. Bread. And rotting cut grass. Motor oil. Terrible scents that I can't believe they don’t cover up in public.
My shoulders rise, and I recoil from them, trying to pull myself even tighter against my alpha. A few of them cheer, rowdy and randy.
My head swims when I turn to glare at them for making too much noise.
Vaguely, in some tiny and distant part of my mind, I register the threat that's driving Colter to move so quickly, though it doesn't seem to penetrate my senses.
My nerve endings are far too tied up by my heat to think more than a very basic, They'll fight over me.
But I trust Colter won't let that happen.
Curling my hands around his neck, I nuzzle closer, tugging the collar of his shirt so that I can pull it up over the lower half of my face.
God, yesssss. His musky scent drowns out the horrible soupy, swampy mess of mall smells, and I inhale deeply, pulling in breath after breath of pure Colter, trying to erase everyone else.
I can't hide my ears as easily, and a tiny frown mars my features as I send out resentful thought waves toward the other alphas, hating the sounds they make. Hating that it's not my other mates' voices I hear. They're all I want.
Suddenly the mall is too big, too bright, too hard with the stone and marble. And it's far too filled with alphas that I want nothing to do with.
"Need some help with her?" an alpha with a nasal tenor calls out lewdly to Colter.
"That's my fucking mate you're talking about!" Kylian's voice bursts through the milieu like a gunshot.
“If she belongs to you, why are you letting her out here to perfume like a whore?” Nasal retorts.
The sounds of punching and scuffling break out.
I peek up out of Colter's shirt, glance over his shoulder, and see a blurry mass of men on the other side of the mall.
As the crowd shifts, I realize Kylian's straddling some punk, punching his face as two mall cops on Segways ride in their direction, calling out warnings in bored tones because this is an everyday occurrence for them.
But for me? The sight of my mate dominating another alpha does it.
Slick starts to dampen my panties, and I grow wetter with every punch Kylian throws.
My teeth dig into my lower lip, and a tiny whine of desire slips out.
Colter roars out in a tone that makes everyone within a hundred feet freeze. "Stop fucking around and get the car!"
Ridge appears from around a corner and bursts through the knot of alphas, pulling Kylian off the other man. Together, they barrel toward the nearest exit at top speed, ignoring the fist-waving rent-a-cops as they run left out a set of glass doors.
Once I know they're safe, I search for Luka, but I come up empty. Panic careens through my veins the second I don't spot him, and I unravel.
"Luka!" I call out in breathy concern, not even waiting half a second before I call again, this time at the top of my lungs. "LUKA!"
"Right here, Princess," a smooth voice behind me intones.
I twist in Colter's arms to see my suave mate already holding the exit door open for us. A suppressant spray is in his hand, and he zigzags it through the air, neutralizing some of the potency of my scent so that we don't get chased out of here.
But I'm too far into my heat for the spray to have any effect on me at all. It might fall in a mist onto my skin, but beneath the surface, I’m molten.
Luka gives me a soft smile as I reach for him, the need to touch him and feel him against me a primal force that I can't control.
Colter doesn't let me down until I'm sandwiched between the two of them. I slide down his leg in the most wanton way, that leg of his clenched between my thighs. I’m about to grind mindlessly against him when I’m scooped into a bridal carry by Luka.
"Let's go home, love," Luka whispers as I nuzzle his neck.
Colter plays linebacker and clears a path in front of us. He only has to shoulder a few male omegas aside before the rest get the message and give us a wide berth, even the alphas who send interested glances my way.
There's a long, endless honk somewhere in the parking lot, and Luka starts to chuckle.
"Want to guess who that is?" he murmurs.
I'm too enamored by his collarbone to answer, dragging my fingertips along it.
"Ridge did not let Kylian drive," Colter retorts, aghast.
But the sound of screeching tires and a thump tells us otherwise, and suddenly, right there on the sidewalk in a black SUV, are my other two mates.
Ridge hops out of the passenger seat and pulls open the back door like a bodyguard. But then he gets into the back seat himself, and Luka hands me up to him before sliding onto the bench seat.
Colter takes shotgun as Kylian honks again, leaning out the driver's side window to yell, "MOVE!"
I try to muster up the energy to tell him he needs to please stop breaking the law, and I inhale—but breathing is the wrong move.
Despite the fact that Kylian's window is down, the SUV is filled with a mix of my men's potent scents, and the gravity of the universe shifts as I draw in their pheromones.
One deep pull is all it takes. My lungs fill and my eyes grow hooded as my mind twirls until I'm dizzy with fierce lust.
A tiny mewl escapes from my lips. A plea because I need someone's hands on me right fucking now.
Suddenly the seat beneath me is too hard, and the car's cabin is too small. And it's too dark but also too stuffy, and I'm so damned empty that I'm about to scream. My hands fly to my hair and tug.
"I need—" But I can't get words out.
My body is on fire, liquid magma coursing through me.
"Shhh, come here," Ridge whispers softly, as if he knows that I couldn't stand a loud noise right now. With a softer touch than I'd ever have imagined him capable of when we met, he pulls me around on the seat until I straddle his lap. "Put your nose against my neck."
My mind presses the off button at his order, and I relax into submissive trust, into a headspace I'd once never thought possible.
But now that I'm safe and secure with my mates, now that there is no chance another alpha can touch me, instinct drives me, and I sink against him, sagging, relaxing as his hands knead my shoulders and back.
Each touch plunges deeper than it normally would and sets off an undertow of sensations that pulls at me as I inhale against his skin, not fighting the tide, just letting it drag me under. Letting sensation fill my veins and lungs with this powerful, greedy lust.
My hands rise up and ghost over his sides.
I should wait until we're back at the castle, back in my nest. Wait until we're truly safe.
But the temptation is a locked door that I stride past and have to circle back to, just to test the latch. I should wait. But I don't want to.
When my fingertips glide beneath the hem of his shirt and up across his abs, Ridge moans beneath me.
And I'm lost—allure’s door thrown open and I'm across the threshold.
There's no turning back. Animalistic fever drives me, and I grind against the bulge in his lap as my tongue darts out to trace a line up his neck.
He tastes fresh and clean, and his slight stubble tickles my tongue, setting me off further.
My hands reach upward and tweak his nipples beneath his black T-shirt just as his hand smacks my ass, the sting sending bright sparks through me.
"Brylee," he warns.