Chapter 5
Chapter five
Silly little boys.
Karma
The man’s Alpha pheromones flood the stage as I approach.
My moves are slow and languid as I put on a show for the rest of the crowd.
I’m a cat hunting its prey. I never know which type of Alpha I’ll get when I put on my little shows.
Most are assholes who think I’m some Omega needing attention and that they are going to be the ones to satisfy my needs.
It’s laughable, really. The club is so saturated with scents that it’s hard, nearly impossible, to focus on just one, so there is no telling which girls are Omegas and which are Betas unless you are right there against their skin.
Even then, most of the Omegas here take suppressants to hide our scents from alphaholes.
Silly little boys, it’s fun to burst their little bubble when they are excepting a sweet little Omega but get the force scent of a Beta.
My heels clack against the stage as I step towards the now-seated man.
I watch as his entire body tenses and his breathing changes the moment I lean forward to hover just beyond his shoulder.
When I saw him across the room, I was instantly caught in his gaze.
Even if I could barely see him underneath all the shadows, there is something about him that is calling me to him.
His scent fills my nose as I take a deep inhale, all Alpha musk mixed with something earthy and soft like sandalwood.
The Omega part of me tingles, which gives me pause.
I’ve long since buried down those instincts, but right now I suddenly want to rub up against this Alpha like a bitch in heat.
I shake my head at those thoughts as my music begins to play. I’ve noticed the man hasn’t moved yet, and since I’m a firm believer that consent is key, I lower my lips to his ear. “Do you give me permission to touch you?” The words are whispered, but that doesn’t stop the full-body shiver I see.
My mystery man nods his head once, but that just won’t do.
I lean in even closer to his ear this time and purr, “Use your words.” I’m so close I’m sure he can feel my breath against his lobe as I issue my command.
I hold myself still, waiting for his verbal reply, even when his scent hits me harder and I have the sudden urge to lick him.
I don't, of course, but it takes everything in me not to.
He smells like a divine mixture of heaven and hell.
Sugar sweet but with an undertone of sinfulness, I so crave.
My body responses with a surge of lust running through my veins and straight to my core. Fuck, what is this Alpha doing to me?
"Yes, ma’am,” he says finally, and I can hear the smirk in his words.
“Good boy.” Is my only husky response as I begin to lick a line up his neck, making him shudder beneath me?
“I’m going to blindfold you, and you’re going to keep your hands on your lap until I tell you otherwise.
You cannot touch until I say so, and if you’re a good boy, we can play more after.
Break my rules, and you’ll see how I got my name, Grim Reaper.
Do you understand?” I tap my thighs where my blades glint in the spotlight, ready to meet someone’s end.
What can I say, my blades get murder-happy and enjoy a good, unexpecting stabbing every now and then.
I move so he can see my masked face more clearly.
Stepping around the front of him, I give the crowd a little shake of my ass.
Cheers and wolf whistles sound as I finally get a clear view of my entertainment for the night.
He looks up at me, his smirk falling as he stares into my eyes, and I wonder what he sees because all I see in his bright green eyes is pain and worry.
My face never changes its expression as I take in the rough jagged edges of the numerous scars that line his face.
The scars flash under the single spotlight highlighting us, raised, jagged, telling stories no one bothered to soften.
They cut across him, like he survived something meant to end him.
I don’t flinch. Don’t suck in a breath or look away. Fear never even flickers.
Instead, my pulse kicks up a notch.
There’s something brutally honest about them and him.
No polished smiles. No pretty lies. Just proof that he’s been hurt and stayed standing anyway.
Much like me. My gaze lingers, unashamed, tracing the lines and somehow finding them attractive in a way that isn’t gentle.
He blinks up at me, almost confused, before his face smooths out.
If he’s waiting for disgust, he won’t find it on my face.
All he’ll see is interest… and maybe a little hunger.
What has this man lived through?
After a few more seconds of staring at each other, I smirk down at him and watch as the tension in his body eases ever so much. "Words," I say again, and he nods but then shakes his head and replies with a low, growly yes.
Throwing him a wink, I slowly start to pull the thin black silk fabric from my bra cup, twisting it around my fists before pulling tight. I like to stay unpredictable, so every show is different. The DJ starts the music, and “Joke’s on You" by Charlotte Lawrence comes on, and I grin.
I slide my hand up over his shoulder, down the solid line of his back, and ease myself onto his lap, straddling him as I reach for the blindfold.
Like a good little Alpha, his hands stay on his lap, but I can feel them flex beneath my ass.
The club blurs the moment my focus locks onto the man beneath me—the music, the lights, and the watching eyes all fading into nothing.
He’s big and broad like most Alphas. I don’t recognize him as a regular, but I’m also not always here. I did spot him with Mr. X, so he must have some sort of business here. Let’s hope he doesn’t end up on my hobby list; it would be a shame.
My hips sway to the beat as I lift the silk ribbon and draw it gently over his eyes. Pretty green eyes that are staring at me like I’m suddenly their entire world. I smooth the fabric into place, my fingers brushing his skin as I start to tie the knot.
“What do I call you?” he asks.
I pause. Just for a second. No one ever asks that. Names aren’t meant for girls like me, not when I’m just something shiny and pretty to look at, something to touch, something to forget once you're done with. I click my tongue softly, amused, and finish the knot.
“As far as you’re concerned,” I murmur, leaning close, “I’m your Grim Reaper.”
“What do I call you?” I ask in return, making my voice huskier to distract him.
I let my eyes finally take in the rest of the man in full, wondering what business he has with X.
He and his friend are seated at the boss’s table, and someone only sits there when they want something from X.
Which doesn’t bode well for him. My eyes drag over every inch of his tattooed skin peeking from beneath his clothes, and the way the fabric clings like it knows exactly what it’s holding onto.
I almost wish I were the piece of material.
My new toy is built. Solid. Dangerous in that careless way, with his hair cropped short on the sides and longer on top, it practically screams trouble.
I let my hands roam down his chest, feeling muscle tense beneath my palms, his body reacting before he could stop it.
I trace a slow path lower, close enough to gaze at the hard length I see growing, then pull back at the last second, denying him with a smile he can’t see.
Standing, I circle him, my fingers trailing behind me as I give the crowd a show, never quite breaking contact.
One full turn. Slow. Deliberate. Letting anticipation do the work.
When I reach the front of him again, I drop into his lap, facing away from him as I drape my body across his firm chest. A sharp grunt escapes him, followed by a softer sound that makes my grin widen.
“Name?” I ask again, quickly spinning, allowing my hands to slide back up his chest, my nails digging in just enough to remind him who’s in control now.
“O,” he says in a low tone, making a shiver run through me this time.
He must feel it too because half a second later a smirk overtakes his stupid handsome face.
I can’t help myself; I bend down and lick him again, starting at his collarbone, working my way up.
I’m relishing the taste of his skin before I reach his ear and bite, hard, as another moan passes his plump lips.
I grind my hips into him as the song continues on, and I start to feel him get impossibly harder beneath me.
Fuck, I figured he was big from what I saw, but that feels like a damn monster cock.
I stand up to give the crowd a bit of a show again, as I back up and bend over so my face and hands are right in O’s lap.
My ass is up in the air facing the hooting and hollering crowd of drunken idiots.
I feel him jerk a bit as my hands creep ever so slowly towards his cock.
Arching my back, I slide forward, bringing my lips to brush against his jeans before I flip around so that my back now lies flat against O’s chest. I can feel him take a deep inhale, his face scrunching up beneath his blindfold in thought, and I wonder again what he thinks of this situation.
He seems like a man who likes to be in control, but he just gave it all up to me, and now it’s time to play.