Chapter 17 #2
“Hmm?” he hums, still holding my gaze.
I want to ask him for something, but I don’t know how to express it. I… I also kind of want to run. To hide. To… to… God, I don’t even know.
Who am I kidding, anyway?
I’ll probably end up running to Johan. Or Noah.
Why not just… see what Lazarus has in mind? See if he can help me soothe the torment growing inside me.
“If I’m in heat,” I start, swallowing. “Can you… can you please… assist?” I feel so foolish voicing my request. It’s ridiculous. But what else am I supposed to do? I don’t have any of my toys. And suffering through an estrus without any relief will…
Well.
I don’t want to find out.
I just don’t.
“Please?” I press.
He smiles. “As beautiful as hearing you beg is, darling, you’re not in heat yet. But after I’ve calmed your need, we can talk more about that, all right?”
I’m torn between growling and whimpering.
Growling because I’m annoyed.
Whimpering because he spoke those words against my breast, the vibration causing my nipples to harden even more.
I thread my fingers through his hair, hoping to hold him in place so he can give me more.
More kisses.
More nibbles.
More pleasure.
Pressing up against Johan drove me to orgasm, something that’s never happened to me before. I can only imagine the euphoria Lazarus can inspire with his mouth. His touch. His hands. His cock.
“Tell me how to please you, princess,” the alpha murmurs, still holding my gaze. “Do you want my tongue?”
I nod, the motion feeling frantic.
“Where?” he presses. “Here?”
I nod again, causing his eyes to narrow slightly.
“Verbal responses, please, Ms. Bianchi. Consent is important to me,” he says. “Tell me you want me to lick your tits.”
I swallow, my mouth seeming to go dry in an instant. “I… I want to feel your mouth on me. On my breasts, p-please.”
His nostrils flare. “Only there?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Then where?” he repeats, the words a growl against my nipple.
I shudder in response, my eyes nearly falling closed. Only, his smoldering gaze demands that I focus on him, his dominance a pressure against my senses that captivates me entirely.
In this moment, I’m his. Utterly and completely.
“Ms. Bianchi,” he says, pulling back just enough to make me miss the presence of his mouth near my stiff peaks. “Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.”
God, I wish it were that easy. I’ve been with a few betas, but nothing ever felt like this. Felt like him.
No, not even just him, but them.
My alphas.
My scent matches.
They’re driving me mad.
They left me. Noah was hurt—though he looked just fine tonight. And now… now I’m in the shower with Lazarus Ferraro on his knees for me. Waiting for a command.
No, it’s more than that. He wants permission.
Consent.
I would never have thought a man like him would value consent. He’s nothing like I expected. Nothing like I could have imagined.
And I’m so tired of overthinking this.
I want to see what he can do. Learn more about who he is. Determine if he’s the alpha he proclaims to be.
“Pleasure me, please,” I whisper. “I want your mouth on my breasts,” I reiterate. “And between my thighs.” I can’t say the word I know he needs to hear. I… It’s too much. Too embarrassing. Too real.
But I can tell by his expression that he’s about to demand clarification on where again.
“On my clit.” The words rush out of me before he can ask. Then I nearly duck my head to hide. Only, his eyes still hold me captive, which is how I catch the smolder darkening his expression.
He’s gratified by my words.
Moreover, he’s aroused by them.
“You’ve been a very good girl tonight,” he praises me. “And good omegas are rewarded. Thoroughly.”
My breath catches in my throat, his words inspiring a fresh wave of slick to dampen my thighs. I squirm, feeling needier than seconds before as a plea leaves my lips. “Touch me, alpha.”
He rumbles, deep in his chest, his irises seeming to morph into a black that rivals his pupils as he moves forward once more. “Happily, omega. Very happily.” His lips close around my nipple, his tongue teasing the tip as his palms find my hips.
A cry of relief escapes me in an instant, my body so pent up with desire that I no longer know how to stand. But he presses me back against the wall, his hands holding me with ease as his mouth explores my breast. Licking. Nibbling. Sucking.
Not an inch is spared from his caress, his lips mapping every part of my chest. I’m a quivering mess by the time he’s done, my center weeping with a need only he can satisfy.
I’m about to use my grip in his hair to pull him downward, but I’m unexpectedly sliding up the wall as he lifts me off the floor.
My eyes widen, a yelp leaving me.
Only for him to command, “Legs on my shoulders, princess.”
I’m so startled by the demand that I… I just comply.
And suddenly I’m pinned again, my back against the marbled tile, his face between my thighs, and my legs… on his shoulders.
He doesn’t give me a moment to evaluate the precarious position. He simply leans into my flesh and licks me deep from entrance to clit.
“Oh God,” I moan, my head falling back against the wall.
“Laz,” he corrects me. “ ‘Alpha’ and ‘sir’ work, too.”
I’m about to reply to that when I all but swallow my tongue in response to him sucking on my clit.
Hard.
It hurts. It feels good. It… it’s… Oh, fuck…
He rolls the tortured bud between his teeth, drawing a gasp from me, followed by a scream as he nibbles. “Mmm, claiming you right here is absolutely an option,” he says, his words making me want to issue a protest.
But then he starts licking and sucking, and I forget how to speak. How to make any noises other than moans.
Because wow. Wow. This man… this man knows… what he’s… Ohh…
His hands wander, his finger entering me without warning as he laves my clit with a skill that has my toes curling.
This is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Overwhelming. Consuming. Brutal.
He’s destroying me in the best way.
Rewriting all my expectations.
Ensuring I remember him for the rest of eternity.
God, he doesn’t even need to mark me. I’m pretty sure I’m his now. That I belong to him and his pack. To Noah. To Johan.
Why was I fighting this? I wonder, my head thrashing as Lazarus owns me with his tongue. His finger. No, fingers… There are two. Twisting. Curling.
“There,” I breathe, my legs tensing as he touches me deep inside. In a place only my toys usually reach.
But something tells me his cock will do just fine.
And his knot… Oh, fuck, his knot…
It’s going to feel so good when he’s inside me, clinging to me, holding me to him, possessing every inch of me.
“Lazarus,” I whisper, my hips writhing as he devours me.
“You going to come for me, princess?” he asks, then flattens his tongue and hums.
I’m so close. On the precipice. About to explode.
I feel it coiling, sense my insides tightening, anticipate the build, the impending explosion, the utter madness.
This won’t be an ordinary climax.
It’s going to be devastating. Just like the one I experienced while dry-humping Johan.
Only more somehow.
Incredible.
Soul-rearranging.
Life-threatening.
Lazarus is rewriting my version of reality. And I just… I just don’t care.
“Mmm, that’s it, omega. Come for me. Bathe me in your slick.” His words are a rumble against my tormented flesh, and they coax me into a tremble.
A tremble that builds into a crescendo of sensation.
Until I can’t stop quivering.
And the world detonates in an array of vivid colors and screams.
My screams.
I don’t even know what I’m saying. It doesn’t matter. Because I’m flying. Soaring. Skyrocketing to another plane of existence.
One where I exist in a series of violent tremors. Live in a puddle of pleasure. Breathe air warmed with chocolate and cherries.
I’m only vaguely aware of Lazarus moving, of my body being once again pinned between him and the wall.
Only, his mouth is on mine, forcing me to taste my slick as he grinds his hips against mine.
Part of him is still inside me. His fingers. Three of them. Strumming. Coaxing. Forcing me to stay in this euphoric state.
I struggle to inhale. Struggle to think. Struggle to do anything other than feel.
I’m so ready for more. For his cock. His knot. Except all he does is pleasure me with his hand, his palm applying pressure to my clit as his fingers continue to stroke me.
I groan into his mouth, irritated and elated at the same time.
I need more. I need him. I need an alpha.
But as I tumble off the cliff once more, a calming sensation steals over me, my ecstasy melting into a sea of soothing waves.
His purr, I realize. He’s purring for me.
Pleasuring me. Taking care of me. Comforting me.
It’s too much. Not enough. Too amazing. Terrifying. Beautiful. Consuming.
My head falls to his shoulder, his lips at my ear as he whispers praise.
“You’re so fucking stunning when you come.”
“Fuck, princess, I can’t wait to feel you squeeze my cock like that.”
“You’re making it hard for my fingers to move. But I don’t mind a little brute force, Ms. Bianchi. You’ll take me. Eventually. And it’s going to be fucking perfect.”
“Yes, darling, just like that. Come one more time for me.”
“Such a good girl for me, omega. So fucking good.”
I’m lost in an oblivion that’s owned and dictated by Lazarus Ferraro.
It’s dangerous here.
Hypnotic.
Amazing.
I should want to run again, but my legs are too heavy to move.
Besides, he’s already walking for me. Or… or something. I don’t know. My eyes are closed. My head against his shoulder. His purr warming my heart. His fingers massaging my insides. His lips continue to voice words against my ear in that deep baritone that I’m starting to adore.
I yawn. Moan. Curl into him.
Exist.
And sleep…