Chapter Eighteen
Mark
Something is different about her. I can’t quite put my finger on what, but I’m not na?ve enough to think that a couple of offhanded sentences about my expanding views on omega rights just magically made her change.
If I were a better man, I’d pull back and force her to talk to me.
But just as I think that, she hollows out her cheeks around my cock, and I forget everything.
I bury my hands into her hair, working myself deeper.
She feels so good that it takes effort to not completely lose myself to the rut and fuck her face.
Which, don’t get me wrong, has a time and place, and I’m certainly not above it.
But I don’t want her to leave my office with her makeup completely destroyed. That’s more of a bedroom activity.
Finally, I tug her head away, and she makes the cutest little squeak of protest. “Don’t worry, I’m not taking it away for good,” I say with a chuckle.
I sit beside her on the couch, pulling her into my lap with her back to my chest. I love picking her up and just moving her where I want her. It pleases some part of my alpha side.
I snake a hand between her thighs, testing that she’s wet enough for me. She’s positively drenched, so much so that there’s almost certainly a wet spot on my cushion. “Is all that for me, gorgeous?” I growl in her ear, letting my teeth graze along the outer rim.
Her whole body shivers. “Please, Mark, don’t tease. I need you inside me,” she says with a gasp.
Who am I to deny such a sweet request?
I lift one of her thighs, hooking my arm under her knee as my hand guides my cock to her entrance. I drag the head through her slick folds, absolutely feral for the sensation. Is this what it’s like to play with an omega’s slick?
I push the thought away, focusing on the woman in my arms. Who must be tired of having patience, because she wiggles until she can sink herself onto me. The groan that slips out of my mouth would probably embarrass me, but it’s impossible not to respond when Ava’s tight, wet heat engulfs me.
She begins to ride me as best she can with her leg still over my arm.
It’s more of a grind, really, and I can tell it must be doing the job nicely for her by the sounds she’s making.
I slip my fingers to where we are joined and begin rubbing gentle circles on her clit.
“That’s right, baby,” I say, “use me to get yourself off. I want to make you feel so fucking good.”
“Oh god, Mark, right there. Don’t you dare fucking stop,” she demands.
I grin against the back of her shoulder. “So fucking bossy.”
I don’t change anything, though, keeping my attention on her clit to the exact same pressure, pattern, and speed. She grinds for another couple of moments, and I can feel when it hits her. Her walls clamp down around me, and her thighs start shaking.
I don’t give her a moment to come down. Instead, I grab her other leg and put it in the same position, thrusting up into her as hard as I can.
I fuck her through the orgasm. I can’t tell if she continues coming or if she comes again, but either way, I set a brutal pace.
She’s at my mercy the way I have her practically impaled on top of me, and I use every bit to my advantage until I can feel my own orgasm building.
“Knot. Knot. I need it. Gimme,” Ava sobs, almost incoherent.
Poor thing must be really lost in the haze if she’s begging for something I can’t give her. But God, I wish betas were able to take one. To lock myself within her so she’d be forced to sit and talk to me, unable to get away? That might actually be what heaven is like.
The mental image of knotting Ava is enough to push me over the edge, and I bury as much of myself as I can get inside her with my knot full and hard outside her tight hole.
We both pant, trying to catch our breath as the afterglow from the endorphins settles in.
“That was incredible,” I say gently. I’m feeling a little bold, so I press a light kiss to a very alluring freckle at the nape of her neck. We don’t usually do those kinds of touches.
She shivers, then slowly relaxes back into me.
I ease her legs down, my mind drifting to the decision I made on my walk home from Brooklyn the other night.
I need to be more assertive with Ava and stop letting her run from me.
Either she lets me in, or she ends this for good.
I wrap my arms around her waist, keeping my grip loose so she doesn’t feel trapped, but firm enough to make it clear that I want her close.
“What are you doing?” she asks. She doesn’t sound angry, which I take as a win, but there’s genuine confusion on her face.
“I want to hold you,” I say. “I don’t want you to fix your clothes and bolt out of this office.
I want to talk. Hell, maybe even order some dinner and actually spend time together without having sex.
” I feel tension coil inside her, but she hasn’t run yet.
“And I think you want that too,” I add quietly.
“Mark—”
I shake my head, cutting her off. “No. You agreed we’d talk. Maybe cuddling half-naked is too much too soon for you, but you can’t run from this. Not this time.”
She climbs off my lap, chewing on her lip as if she’s weighing her next move. After a long breath, she seems to decide. “Fine, but I am fixing my clothes.”
“Fair enough,” I say. I pull my slacks back up and button them, but don’t bother with my shirt, draping an arm along the back of the couch as I watch her. Once she’s dressed again, she perches on the edge of the cushion, already rebuilding her shields.
“I agreed you could get dressed,” I say. “I didn’t agree to you sitting there like we’re about to negotiate a contract.” I reach for her and pull her back against me. “Relax, Ava, we have been sleeping together for nearly two months. I’m not a stranger,” I whisper.
“I can’t do this,” she says, voice small.
“What? Cuddle?”
“This,” she says more firmly, motioning with her hand between us. “I can’t do relationship stuff.”
“Can’t? Or won’t? Because that feels like an important distinction,” I say.
“Is it, though? At the end of the day, aren’t they one and the same?” She pulls back to look at me. There’s a sheen to her eyes, almost as if she’s holding back tears, and I can’t even begin to conceptualize her crying. I’m pretty sure I’d end up offering my very soul to get her to stop.
“Are you scared? Is that it?” I reach out and cup her cheek, and the way she closes her eyes and leans into it makes my chest ache.
“More than you’d believe. But it doesn’t change anything,” she says sadly.
“Baby, let me in. I’m not going to hurt you. I love you.” The words slip out before I can stop them, and I curse myself as I feel her whole body go rigid.
Fuck. Completely overplayed my hand.
“I need to go,” she says quickly, pulling away from me and standing. “I just… I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
“Ava,” I say, scrubbing a hand over my face and desperately trying to think of how to save this. “I can’t keep doing this. Please, stay and talk to me. I don’t expect you to say it back or anything. I didn’t even mean to say it. But don’t run.”
She takes several steps backwards, her eyes wide and pupils blown. The bitter scent of burnt oranges is filling my office, stronger than any scent I’ve ever gotten from her before. “I’m sorry, I really am. But I can’t. I wish I could.”
She backs up until she reaches the door, and she turns to open it.
A bone-deep weariness crashes over me. How many times are we going to do this song and dance? At what point am I just being a masochist?
“If you walk out that door, this is done. For real. I can’t do this anymore,” I say quietly and even I can hear the pain in my voice.
I see her shoulders stiffen, and she pauses. I think for a moment she’s going to come sit back down, but then she opens the door and steps out of my office, closing it behind her.
I sit in the quiet of my office, listening to the sound of her heels carrying her down the empty hall and then the ding of the elevator. When I don’t hear her anymore, I accept it for what it is.
Ava, for whatever personal demons she’s fighting, has closed the door on us.
I shut my eyes and bury my head in my hands, trying to breathe and just feel whatever emotions happen.
There’s hurt, so much fucking hurt, but a whole lot of sadness too.
With a growl of anger, I snatch up a coffee cup from the small table near the couch and launch it against the wall, the sharp sound of shattering china echoing through my office.
It takes a considerable amount of restraint not to take one of the chairs near me and beat it into splinters against my desk.
I stand, hands shaking, and grab my shirt, hastily buttoning it back up. I can’t stay in this room any longer without going insane. I can still smell her everywhere. My alpha rages inside of me, pressing me to chase after her and drag her home. But I can’t.
I bypass the elevator, not wanting any more of her scent, and take the stairs down two at a time. I have no destination in mind; I just know I have to get out of here.
Eventually I find myself in Central Park, with very little recollection of the walk there.
My head is finally starting to feel clearer, not that I’m feeling particularly better or anything.
I find a bench and sit down, staring out at the trees blankly.
After a minute, I pull my phone out and scroll to Ava’s contact.
I stare at it, and then before I can change my mind, I block her number. Deleting the contact won’t do any good since I have her number memorized, but at least now she can’t reach out. Any communication we have from here on out will be coordinated between our offices.
My phone rings right as I’m about to put it into my pocket, Marnie’s face flashing across it. “Hello?”
“I was just dusting the crystals, and all of a sudden had the strangest feeling that I needed to call you,” she says. “That’s crazy, right? I mean, I hope you don’t think I’m some weirdo and not wanna talk anymore.”
I give a dry, self-deprecating chuckle. “Uh, no. In fact, maybe I need to come buy some crystals, because that woo-woo shit must have some real magic behind it. I really did need someone to talk to.”
“What’s wrong?” she asks, concern evident in her voice.
“That’s an incredibly long story, and probably not one to be had over the phone when I’m still feeling some kind of way about it. But let’s just say the situationship I’ve been trying to figure out is done.”
“Oh, Mark, I’m sorry. That’s so hard,” she says softly. She pauses briefly. “Well, do you want advice, distraction, or someone to sit with you in the suck for a minute?”
I huff out a breath that’s almost a laugh. “Honestly, probably the last one. There’s not much advice to be given in this situation, and I don’t think I’ll be easily distracted.”
“I can do that,” she says easily. “I’m pretty good at sitting with uncomfortable feelings. Occupational hazard of being around all the vibrations from the crystals.”
I shift on the bench, rolling my shoulders like I can physically loosen the knot in my chest. “I’m in Central Park. I walked here without really realizing I was doing it.”
“Least the weather is nice. Would have really sucked if it was raining or something. Though I guess it would give you the quintessential heartbroken movie moment, standing in the rain looking forlorn.”
I laugh despite myself, and though I had said I didn’t think she could distract me, I find her doing just that.
We talk for a few minutes about nothing important.
She tells me a story about one of her customers going on a twenty-minute rant about how they are being stalked by one particularly fat pigeon.
“Do you want some company?” she offers. “You’re welcome to come hang out down here at the shop.”
I shake my head, even though she can’t see it. “I don’t think I’m fit to be anyone’s company tonight. But I was already meaning to ask you this before my night blew up. What do you have going on tomorrow night?”
“Same old, same old,” she tells me. “Why?”
“There’s this big, fancy dinner at the mayor’s mansion,” I say, choosing my words carefully.
“I was thinking I should introduce you to my best friend, Adam. He’s a reporter and an alpha, and I think you two might hit it off.
He’ll be there anyway, so I thought maybe you could come as my plus one.
If you don’t feel each other, there’s no pressure.
It wouldn’t be a blind date or anything. ”
“You mean I have an excuse to wear a fancy evening gown and meet a pre-vetted alpha that probably isn’t a creep? Uh, yes. Count me in,” she says with a laugh.
“Okay. I’ll pick you up around 6:30.”
“Sounds great!”
I smile, despite my still rocky mood. “Marnie, I’m really glad you called. I appreciate it. Tell the crystals I said thanks.”