Chapter 4 Noah
CHAPTER FOUR
NOAH
My mouth is watering.
My knot is throbbing.
And my dick is fucking leaking.
Yet I’ve never been more elated in my entire existence. Because our sweet little pet is my goddamn scent match.
She smells divine. Like brown sugar and sweet honey. It makes me want to kneel for her and beg for a lick between those alluring thighs. Her tight jeans provided me with a pretty good idea of what those legs of hers will look like without clothes.
Though, her baggy sweater hid her tits and waist.
I’m guessing a B cup. Soft tummy—perfect for me to lay my head on. And hips designed for my hands to grab while I fuck her from behind.
Mmm. I don’t bother to tamp down my interest. I just let my scent drown her in my desire.
She’s mine.
Ours.
To share. To play with. To worship.
God, I can’t wait to get her on the jet. Take her home. Create a nest. Show her what it means to be our queen.
I knew there was something special about her the moment Johan showed me her profile.
A hacker. Brilliant. Stole money from us—which made me like her already because that took some major fucking balls.
Though, I paused on the praise when I found out she used all those funds to buy some abandoned town in the middle of the mountains.
Still not quite sure why she did that or how she’s related to the other girls who jointly own Widows Peak.
It’s on my list of questions.
Ones I’ll ask her after we address the more important items. Like how she prefers to have her pussy licked. If she enjoys knots in her ass. Favorite ice cream—for food play. Date of her next heat. Bondage preferences. Cock-warming limits.
The usual.
Then we can get to the semantics about our past.
I glance at her in the mirror, noting the way she’s worrying her bottom lip as she stares out the window.
Night is quickly creeping up on us, cascading shadows throughout the car. But her expression is still clear in the low lighting.
She’s nervous.
And aroused.
The former is coming off her in waves, and the latter is evidenced by the luscious scent of welcoming slick.
She’s wet. But of course she is—we’re a match. It’s a natural response between our dynamics. That doesn’t mean I’ll take advantage of it.
I want her to ask for my knot.
Tell me to eat her cunt.
Beg me for a kiss.
Yeah, I have a consent kink. It’s at odds with some of the other shit I like to do, but there’s just something so fucking hot about a woman—or a man—giving me permission to destroy them in bed.
I also really enjoy making my conquests plead for more, even while crying out for me to stop.
I bet Aurora will cry prettily for me. Those beautiful brown eyes, damp with her pleasure-induced agony. Mmm. Yes, fucking please.
It takes considerable effort to return my focus to the road. But I need to deliver our queen safely to her future nest. If she’s amenable, we can play on the jet.
Then I can stare at her for however long I want.
For eternity, hopefully.
I swallow, my heart beating harshly in my chest. Her scent is like a drug. I’m addicted already and eager for more.
The urge to growl hits me hard, intrinsic desire running hot through my veins.
My omega is finally here.
That I’ve spent the better part of the last few years obsessing over her existence doesn’t help. I haven’t fucked anyone outside of our pack since learning about her.
God, Johan must be tired of sucking my cock.
I’ve used him as my primary relief, all while thinking about the pretty little bee humming in my back seat.
Well, I thought about him, too. And the things I intend to make him do to her.
Soon, I think. So. Fucking. Soon.
The makeshift airfield we used to land on isn’t too far from the town. An abandoned farm—one we bought after finally locating our intended pet.
Laz hired some guys to turn one of the fields into a small runway. It’s not the smoothest surface, but it works.
And now we’re getting to use it for its intended purpose—to bring our omega home.
She’s quiet in the back seat, still looking out the window. So I’m surprised when she doesn’t say anything as I pull into the old farm’s driveway and head toward the run-down house at the end.
When I park, though, she frowns. “This isn’t the airport.”
“It’s our airport,” I tell her, exiting the car and moving to the back door to open it before she can try to hit the locks.
She peers up at me. “Did you borrow someone’s old farm and land a jet in their backyard?” Surprisingly, she exits while she speaks, making my job rather easy as I close the door behind her and go to the trunk.
“Something like that,” I admit. “We didn’t want to deal with the local airport and their traffic control.”
“Hmm.”
That’s all she says, and I wonder if she’s starting to question who I am. However, she doesn’t stop me from grabbing her bag, and she follows me around the house toward the waiting jet in the field.
It’s all lit up and pretty, just waiting for us to board and take off.
My lips curl. The fireworks are about to begin.
Because the moment our girl sees who’s waiting for her on board, she’s going to backpedal fast.
Which is why I pause at the bottom of the stairs and wave for her to head up first.
I’m about to be the wall that closes her in.
She gives me a once-over, her perfume sweetening the air. I almost ask her if it’s an invitation to taste her, but she starts up the stairs before I get a chance to speak.
That’s fine.
Her actions provide me with a delectable view of her hips and her tight ass. Definitely knotting her there.
My dick leaks a little more, making me wonder if I’m about to go into a rut.
Every part of me is strung tight, my muscles clenching as I admire my omega’s athletic legs. Mmm, fucking exquis… My brow furrows as the thought trails off in my head. Is that…? My eyes narrow at her ankle, the hint of a bulge that shouldn’t exist causing my breath to halt.
I nearly bark out a laugh, utterly entertained by what I assume is a weapon of some kind.
Dear God, I think I’m in love.
Our omega is packing.
Oh, Laz is going to lose his ever-loving shit when he realizes I didn’t frisk her for toys.
My lips curl, eagerness hammering through me as I all but sprint up the stairs after her.
I’ve got to see what she has planned.
She walks into the jet like she owns it, her blonde hair glowing like a damn halo beneath the lights. Only, she freezes upon seeing Johan seated in an executive chair, his laptop balanced along one leg as his ankle is propped up by his opposite knee.
Laz is nowhere to be found, which suggests he’s either stepped into the back for a call, or he’s planning some sort of grand entrance.
He’s the only one our omega might recognize. And once she does, all bets will be off.
I set her bags in a compartment overhead, wanting my hands free for whatever is about to happen.
“Is my brother here?” the little bee demands.
Johan’s lips twitch. “No.”
“And who are you?” Her haughty tone is all mafia princess. I love it. I love her. I’m ready to make this happen.
My best friend cants his head, the action sending his thick black hair into his eyes. He adjusts his dark-rimmed glasses on his nose, ignoring the unruly mop on his head. “Johan.”
Aurora stares at him like she’s waiting for him to elaborate. When he doesn’t, she folds her arms and asks, “Are you an assassin as well?”
Johan looks around her at me. “You told her you’re an assassin?”
“Nope.” I shrug. “She must just assume I’m good with my hands.” I step closer to her so I can whisper in her ear as I add, “Which I am, by the way. Very good with my hands, I mean.”
She shivers and steps away from me. But it’s not fast enough to mask the fresh wave of her alluring scent.
My little bee is aroused.
Does that mean Johan is a scent match, too? Is she even close enough to tell?
Granted, the entire jet smells like a bookstore cafe that specializes in mixing expensive chocolate into its coffee drinks. That’s a combination of Johan and Laz, something I’m sure our omega has picked up on by now.
That could explain the subtle shivers teasing the hairs along her exposed skin. I admire the reaction, enjoying the way her body is naturally responding to ours. It makes me want to wrap an arm around her waist and bury my face in her nape. Lick that throbbing pulse point on her neck. Bite.
A growl threatens to rumble free from my chest. But I swallow it, needing to tamp down my rutting instincts.
She has to consent.
No. More than that. She has to beg.
“Who are you?” she whispers, looking back at me and then at Johan again. “Something isn’t right here.”
“A comment I made roughly ten years ago when reviewing my account finances,” Laz says as he steps into the cabin.
Ohhh, the show is about to begin.
I move to block the exit, eager to watch the fireworks. If only I had some popcorn. It would go so nicely with the moment.
Our little bee buzzes to life, stumbling backward as her pretty eyes widen. “Lazarus.”
Laz arches a dark brow as he slips his phone into his pocket, his expression taking on what I joyfully call “arrogant don” mode.
Here we go, I purr inside, eager to clap. Because I fully expect our bumblebee to sting in response to whatever Laz is about to say to her.
Hopefully, that sting will present itself as a gun.
Go on, little bee, make my night…
“Most omegas refer to me as sir or Mr. Ferraro. Omegas that have stolen from me, well, I think the formality should be accompanied by a bow. Perhaps a plea for me to spare one’s life. Show mercy. Entice me perhaps… with an offer?”
And there goes the buzzing.
She’s practically vibrating.
Ready to pounce.
I’m about to grin, to cheer her on, when I realize that the vibrating isn’t driven by anger, but by another emotion entirely. She’s trembling.
And a sour note tinges the air.
One I… I don’t like.
The brown sugar and honey is so beautifully smooth. This… this has a bitterness to it that has my lips curling downward instead of upward.
Our bee is… is she going to cry?
Ah, fuck.
That’s not at all what I want to see. I was hoping for yelling. Maybe a good punch to the groin. Some sort of fight.
Not this.
“Are you…?” The quiver in her tone has me utterly conflicted between growling and purring.
Growling because I’m disappointed. And also pissed at Laz for upsetting our pet.
And purring because… because I want to comfort her.
Fuck. A. Duck. There goes my erection.
This is not what I’m into. Not at all.
“Am I?” Laz asks, his voice silky and layered with undeniable threat.
I glance at Johan, note the way his brow is pinched, and realize he’s fighting an urge similar to mine. He wants to comfort the girl.
Well, there go my plans for the night.
“How did you find me?” our omega asks, her voice so small that it takes effort not to wrap her up in a hug.
Which is asinine.
I make grown alpha males cry on the daily.
Yet the first sign of tears from this female has me wanting to drop to my knees and beg forgiveness. And I didn’t even fucking do anything.
Laz did this.
He upset our omega.
Yet he doesn’t seem to care at all, both his hands now in his pockets as he saunters toward her like he’s the king of the jet.
Which I suppose he is as the don of the Ferraro Mafia.
That won’t stop me from introducing my fist to his face when we’re alone later. He’s ruined our entire fucking night. Asshole.
“I didn’t. Johan did.” Laz glances at tech boy genius, then focuses on our omega as he pauses right in front of her. “You provided quite the challenge, princess. Have anything you’d like to say before I destroy your pretty little world?”
Her shoulders stiffen. “You’re going to take the town?”
He considers her for a moment. “It would be an appropriate punishment, wouldn’t it? You bought it with my money, after all.”
Laz doesn’t mean it. We’ve talked about this a thousand times. All he wants is the omega—Aurora Bianchi.
Not only did she win all of us over with her antics, but her name and birthright are an appropriate match for our pack.
The fact that she’s also our scent match is just… fate being fucking awesome.
Only, Aurora doesn’t seem to feel the same way. Her head falls. Her buzzing has all but stopped. And she’s suddenly kneeling on the floor like she’s going to weep.
God damn it. I take a step forward, ready to string Laz up by his neck and force him to fix this, when the little bee on the floor whirs to life and the sound of a cocking gun fills the air.
“You will not touch Widows Peak,” she snarls, pointing the barrel right at Laz’s knot. “Or I will fucking end you.”
I blink down at the little ball of fiery energy.
She’s on her knees, which has her perfectly poised to blow Laz’s junk clean off.
A laugh escapes me, and my palm covers my heart. “Ah, fuck yeah. I’m definitely in love.” I go to my knees beside her, utterly taken by this beautiful woman. “Marry me, little bee. Please?”