Chapter 16 #2
My dominance is strong; it’s something I have to work on to keep under control so I don’t scare the general public. The instinct-driven impulses that flood my brain can be frustrating at times, but it’s hard to argue against the truth of them with her.
When Arabella is biting her lip, her scent demanding I give in, there’s only so much a man can do to contain it. It’s as if my own instincts are trying to prove to her what a good mate I could be.
I can protect you. I can protect our young.
Pick me, Omega.
It’s more than that, though. It’s proving to her that no matter how dominant I am or how driven by instinct, I’m in control. I can protect you from other alphas and from my own instincts.
I can keep you safe, Omega.
I can be gentle when you need it.
The way her chest rises and falls with her rapid breaths tells me she knows exactly what I’m thinking. If she turned to run right now, I would chase her—but if I caught her? Whatever happened next is up to her. She’s in control. I can give her that.
Arabella swallows thickly and remains very still. She’s not scared, I don’t think, but it’s clear her instincts are on high alert. That her omega instincts are driving her own brain wild, too. They’ll be warning her of danger at the same time as they drive her to make the alpha happy.
I want her to want me, though, not just to appease me because I’m a dominant alpha and her omega side tells her to. So, I drop to one knee, reaching down to pet both Suki and Toast, while tilting my head to the side, showing her my neck.
A small act of submission; a reminder of her choices and control even in this situation.
“Oh, fuck me,” she hisses under her breath, her scent chaotic as it spikes with renewed desire.
“I would love to,” I mumble just as softly, but I know she heard me. “You were saying?” I ask innocently as I look up at her.
“I don’t know, was I?” Arabella chuckles breathlessly, fanning herself with her hand. She recovers quickly, though, adding, “Come over. I’ll make you something to eat, and then we can go from there.”
“Would now be a bad time to tease you by pointing out that you already have something I would love to eat?”
“I want to say yes, but somehow that feels like a lie,” she retorts with a grin. “Come on, Suki. Let’s get out of here before the naughty alpha seduces me in the middle of the street.”
I’m mesmerised by her as she presses two fingers to her lips and blows me a kiss before taking a few steps back, her eyes locked on me. When she finally turns away, I don’t even pretend not to stare at her curves and the sway of her hips as she walks away.
“Do you think it’s too soon for you to start calling her mother?” I whisper to Toast, only looking away from Arabella when she disappears around a corner.
He’s always been ninety percent dopey, but right now, I swear he’s judging me.
His brown eyes are focused on my face with an unusual level of intensity as he tilts his head.
I try not to let my dog give me a complex.
To think I saved his furry butt off the streets after he stole my breakfast, and this is how he repays me? With a judgemental, bombastic side eye?
“What? I was just asking,” I huff at him, rolling my eyes.
The rest of the walk back takes far too long, but Toast is enjoying himself too much to rush him. Resisting the urge to race home, rather than letting my dog stop to sniff every five steps, is the kind of patience my father never had.
‘Hate me all you want; one day you’ll turn out just like me.’
I take a slow deep breath in and out as I reject his words. I hate that his voice still whispers the same things over and over in the back of my head, even after all these years. It’s easier to dismiss them these days. Now I know they were never the truth.
I will always have the choice not to be him.
I might have his DNA and the same russet brown hair, but that’s where it ends. It’s not him I see in my reflection when I meet my own eyes. The green eyes that look back at me are from my mother.
She’s the one who taught me why alphas should be gentle with omegas, instead of flexing our dominance over them.
I was taller than her by thirteen, and I’ll never forget the day she flinched because of me.
The moment I realised I was bigger and stronger than the woman who once carried me in her arms.
My father ruined everything good in her until all that was left was pain and sadness, but she tried. She still gave me everything she could.
Every ounce of kindness and goodness I possess, I got from her.
I shake the morose thoughts away as I get home, settle Toast in, and get myself changed and ready to meet Arabella.
I almost call her back to ask her what I should wear.
Again. I decide against it, though. Can’t have her thinking I’m entirely helpless when it comes to dressing myself, especially when it’s just to hang out at her place.
Once I’m ready, I make my way over to hers in what has to be record time. A neighbour is coming in when I get there, so I forgo the main door buzzer, heading straight to her door to knock.
“Hey.” I relax as she opens her door for me, revealing her dressed in comfortable house clothes—patterned leggings, half-covered by her fuzzy knee-length socks, and a plain black shoe-string top. My dark grey joggers and a white t-shirt were clearly the right choice.
I almost went with shorts. Something about them seems to get omegas all worked up. I saw a video once that mentioned men wearing shorts was just an excuse to flash slutty thigh tattoos.
Maybe I should get one. I wonder if Arabella would like it?
Suki trots over to sniff me, now that the barking has stopped. When she realises I didn’t bring Toast with me, she blows a puff of air out her snoot and trots right back off.
“I think I offended her.”
“I think so, too. Don’t worry, she’s about to go curl up in her crate.
” She shakes her head. “Giant dog bed? Unacceptable. Her human’s bed?
Too many humans in it. Apparently there’s a max of zero humans required for Suki to sleep comfortably.
However, the crate I brought her home in and exactly one blanket? Perfect.”
“Toast likes to sleep on a large piece of cardboard I can now never get rid of without a replacement—and the kitchen floor, the bathroom floor, and under the coffee table, so I get it. They can be odd and particular about stuff like that.”
She leads the way into the kitchen, where she pulls some food out of the oven, and I stare at her wondering how the hell she did all this so quickly.
“I just reheated it,” she says with a shrug, sensing the question in my surprised look.
“Smells delicious in here, though,” I tell her. I’m mostly not talking about the food, though.
She grins as if reading my mind.
“I think so too,” she replies while plating the food up, sliding one across the counter to me, and then leading me over to her sofa. “You want to watch a movie?”
“Sure,” I agree, sitting down beside her, setting my plate on my lap.
She pops the TV on and seemingly puts on the first movie she comes across. We watch in a comfortable silence while we eat. Well, she watches, mostly. First the food holds some of my attention, then it’s all on her.
“Oh, this is… I don’t watch a lot of movies,” Arabella murmurs suddenly, swallowing hard.
Confusion flickers at her words as I wonder what she’s going on about. I’ve glanced at the TV a few times since she put it on, only enough so I don’t look like a creep with nothing better to do than stare at her. Despite my paltry effort, I really haven’t been paying any attention to the movie.
How can I when she’s right there?
I’m not the least bit curious about what’s on the screen until her scent spikes with need and the sound of moans fills her living room.
That forces my attention to the TV, curious about her reaction more than the moaning. Even now, with my eyes fixed to the screen, I don’t know what she’s put on. I recognise the face of one of three actors, but the movie itself is unfamiliar.
There’s no way to ignore the moaning and increasingly naked bodies, though. Especially as it gets louder and Arabella’s scent deepens as the scene progresses.
Is this something she’s into? Something she wants?
“Oh, she’s right in the middle, huh?” I ask faux casually, watching as the woman on the screen gets fucked from two directions at once. I let my voice drop into a teasing tone as I add, “Do you like being in the middle, beautiful?”
“I—This was not intentional!” Arabella yelps, blushing furiously as she snatches up the remote and switches the channel, putting on a gameshow. “Let’s just watch this. At least I know it’s safe. No x-rated three-ways.”
The next question asked by the host just so happens to mention the actor I’d recognised in the scene.
Arabella seems to realise this as she blushes again as she changes the channel once more.
She groans in defeat, and I glance at the TV, biting back a chuckle at her terrible luck trying to find something more PG.
It’s that dating show where everyone’s naked, and the show’s host has apparently asked the men in the coloured tubes to dance for the woman selecting her date. The camera zooms in on one of the men windmilling his cock for the audience to see every inch of it in graphic detail as it whirls.
She quickly switches to the news channel, muttering something under her breath.
“What was that?” I ask, grinning at her. She’s cute when she’s frustrated.
“Nothing.”
I raise my eyebrows at Arabella, waiting patiently for her to crack. It takes less than a minute.
“I’ve been seriously betrayed by broadcast television,” she mumbles self-consciously, and this time, I don’t hold back my laugh.
“Should’ve stuck to streaming.”
“Hm. Wanna guess if stuff is cake?” she asks, already switching to the streaming platform. There’s definitely no sex or nudity in that show.