14. Seth
Seth gave up on sleep around three, stuffing his feet into his ducky slippers and shuffling into the kitchen. He was grateful that all the bedrooms were upstairs. He didn’t want to be responsible for waking anyone else, but he also wasn’t in the mood for company.
He spent the next ten minutes vacillating between a sandwich and leftovers before taking a sharp left turn and pouring himself a bowl of Fruit Loops.
He took his snack to the TV room, glancing at the tall glass windows out of habit, eyes widening when he remembered they were shuttered. Seth had rolled his eyes just a little when Binnie went over the ridiculous security features of his late grandmother’s home. But on a moonless night, on a large empty property, Seth was grateful for the strange bubble of safety.
He curled up on the entirely impractical super-wide sofa, the kind that probably came from Restoration Hardware and cost the same amount as a new Toyota. As he tucked his feet beneath him, he begrudgingly admitted it was pretty comfy. He flipped on the television, relieved when he saw the Cartoon Network app, settling in and hitting play on an episode of Powerpuff Girls.
It was weird being there, sharing a space with four strangers, three of whom were alphas. Or maybe the weirdness was in how not weird it felt. There was something comforting about this place, about these people. Or maybe Binnie had some kind of apparatus pumping extra calming pheromones through the air conditioning.
It had only been a week since they’d arrived, but things had gone off the rails so quickly. Fenny had gone ass-up for Loch in a Costco parking lot, and something sketchy had happened between San and Binnie but San was being very tight-lipped about it. Seth sighed, bringing the spoon to his lips. His friends had all gone insane.
The others seemed nice enough. He supposed they could be faking it, but what would be the point? He took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. Ollie was far too acerbic to be fake. Binnie wasn’t hiding enough in Seth’s opinion. He was either oozing charisma, acting like a total goofball with Deke, or sneaking loving glances at San behind his back. It was kind of cute. If you liked that sort of thing. And Loch…he just wanted to take care of everyone. Especially Fenny. They all seemed genuine. The only outlier was?—
Seth gasped. Someone lurked in the shadows of his periphery. He froze, pulse skyrocketing, not sure what to do. The shadowy figure took two steps into the light, and Seth collapsed back against the pillows, relief flooding him so quickly he felt dizzy. Saint. Jesus. Was he on a campaign to give Seth a heart attack? Wherever Seth went, he was always just…there. Lurking. Just like now.
They watched each other, but Saint made no move to come closer. Seth took the opportunity to take him in. He was taller than Seth by at least half a foot. He wore gray joggers that clung for dear life off his narrow hips and an army green v-neck tee that showed off just enough of his chest for Seth to kind of wish he could see more.
“Are you going to just stand there and stare at me?” Seth finally asked, trying to mask his arousal with irritation.
Saint blinked at him. “I’m not sure yet.”
Seth huffed out a sound through his nose, his amusement dying before it became a smile. He was so weird. “Well, you’re freaking me out, so can you at least, like, sit?”
Seth turned away, pretending to concentrate on the television like Mojo Jojo was an actual threat to his safety, but he could still see the alpha. Saint didn’t walk, he…prowled. Like a panther. Silent and hyper-vigilant, eyes on Seth like he was Saint’s meal of choice.
He expected Saint to sit in one of the two oversized chairs or maybe even at the opposite end of the sofa. Instead, the cushion dipped just beside him, Saint’s large frame pressing against him. If they both looked at each other, they’d be nose to nose.
Seth laughed, not sure what else to do. “There’s a whole other side of the couch, you know.”
Saint turned those intense brown eyes on him, forcing Seth to lean back or go cross-eyed. “It doesn’t smell like you over there.”
Seth felt his blood catch fire. What? “Oh,” he said, just to say something.
Saint continued to look at him, gaze bouncing from Seth’s eyes to his lips in a way that had his stomach doing somersaults. He wanted to look away, but Saint’s gaze held him hostage.
His tongue darted out to wet his lips, heart rabbiting in his chest. Could Saint hear it? Could he smell the effect he was having on Seth’s already unstable emotions?
The alpha had no right to be this pretty. His brown hair was just a bit too long and would fall right over his eyes if he wasn’t constantly sweeping it back with his fingers. He had wide, chocolate brown eyes that looked almost black in the dim light of the television. His skin was a deep bronze, though Seth wasn’t sure if it was due to ethnicity or baking in the Nevada desert. Or maybe both. There was a jagged white scar on his left cheek, but it did nothing to take away from his beauty.
Saint’s lips curled back, and Seth’s heartbeat tripped over itself. Was he snarling at him? No. He was actually…smiling? Sort of. It was like the muscles he needed to complete the simple gesture were out of practice, making it appear like more of a grimace, but it did reveal a tiny gap in his front teeth that Seth found fucking sexy.
Dammit.
“You’re kind of weird,” Seth heard himself say, then snapped his mouth shut before he said something even dumber.
Saint just turned to the television screen, giving a deep sigh. “Yeah.”
Oh. Well, at least he was self-aware. That had to count for something. Seth wished he knew more about him. All Loch had said was that he was a demolitions expert and that he’d had to do stuff overseas that had fucked him up. Was that why he was so…off?
How much of Saint’s behavior was trauma and how much was just…Saint?
“Were you always this…odd?” Seth asked, keeping his tone casual.
Saint seemed to contemplate the question really hard, expression growing distressed as he said, “I don’t know. Is it bad? Am I…unsuitable?”
“Unsuitable?” Seth echoed, raising his spoon to his lips.
Saint nodded. “As your mate?”
Seth inhaled sharply, immediately regretting it as he aspirated his midnight snack, coughing violently to clear his lungs, his bowl jostling with each racking spasm. Saint took the food, setting it on the coffee table even as he slapped Seth’s back with almost too much force, watching intently.
When he was no longer in danger of drowning in 2% milk, he wheezed out a startled, “What did you say?”
Saint blinked at him, his confusion evident. “Did you not like my gifts?”
Gifts?Seth’s breath caught. The flowers on his pillow, the pink rock on his dresser, the little carved wolf on his nightstand. He’d thought they were just trinkets from San on his way back from the co-op. “That was you?”
Saint nodded, face so earnest it made Seth’s chest tight.”Yeah.”
His stomach swooped, his face contorting into some kind of schmoopy look against his will. “Yes, they were…lovely. But why?”
“Because I’m courting you,” Saint said simply.
Because I’m courting you.
Because I’m courting you.
Oh. My. God.
It was Seth’s turn to sit there and blink stupidly, his brain trying to process Saint’s words while simultaneously thinking of a thousand questions at once until he started babbling, “You? You’re…? Me?” Seth shook his head. “What? We’re…we’re strangers.”
Saint tilted his head, studying Seth in a way that made him want to cover himself, like Saint could see through his skin directly to his rapidly beating heart. “So?”
Seth scoffed. “So, you don’t even know me.”
Saint turned his whole body towards him, forcing Seth to inch back or end up in his lap. “I know your scent. I know you smell like mine,” he said, voice raspy in a way that made Seth’s nerve endings tingle and his dick take notice.
Seth heard himself swallow. “I…”
Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale…
His? Seth smelled like his? Who just said things like that to people? Crazy people. Serial killers and psychopaths. Maybe he was still dreaming? Maybe he had managed to fall asleep and this was all a precursor to the wet dream about Saint that would likely start any minute now. That made much more sense. There was no way this gorgeous weirdo was sitting there, calm as you please, confessing his intentions right in front of Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup.
Was this it? Was this crazy—albeit hot—man who played with bombs and lived like a hermit in the desert truly his mate? Actually, yeah, that tracked. What had he expected? Well-adjusted?
Seth snorted, earning a curious look from Saint.
Seth waved a hand to indicate it was nothing, then looked down at his lap, noting his wet pajama pants just as Saint did.
Seth watched in slow motion as the alpha peeled his shirt off like something out of a dirty movie, balling it up. Seth blinked rapidly, fighting not to swallow his own tongue as his eyes took off exploring without his permission.
Jesus Christ.
Nobody had the right to look like that, to just be out in the world…existing with Seth and the other mere mortals. Saint’s body was not meant for couches in the Maryland suburbs, not even expensive ones. His body was meant to appear in magazines, adorned in jewels and expensive clothing. His body was meant to be encased in marble and revered in museums around the world.
Seth was so busy gawking, he didn’t realize Saint was now dabbing at his milk-soaked thighs. His thighs, which were anatomically inconveniently close to his dick.
Oh, please do not pop an awkward boner right now.
“It’s okay,” he said hurriedly. “I’m good. I’m…all better.”
Saint nodded, leaving his shirt on Seth’s lap. His fingers folded into the fabric almost against his will, feeling like a creep as he desperately fought the instinct to bury his nose in it.
Oh, God.
This was bad.
This was so bad.
Go to bed, Seth. Go to bed before you do something stupid like let a total stranger knot you on the sofa. A sofa you’d have to sell your liver to afford to replace. He and Fenny could fight about which of them was more pathetic.
“You can,” Saint said, like Seth had spoken out loud.
Had Seth spoken out loud? Was he breathing faster? Was he hyperventilating? He might be hyperventilating a little.
Can what? Let you breed me on the sofa?Breed? Who said anything about breeding? Fuck, Seth was losing it. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Saint narrowed his eyes at him. Seth’s cheeks flamed. “W-What?”
Saint nodded towards the balled-up fabric. “My shirt. You can sniff it. If you want. I won’t think it’s weird.”
Relief flooded him. Oh, right. The shirt. Not the sex. The sex Saint most definitely did not ask him to have on that sofa.
He opened his mouth to refuse but, instead, raised the fabric to his nose almost against his will. The t-shirt was soft against his cheek as he inhaled deeply, biting back a moan. Seth had gotten fleeting traces of Saint’s scent in passing, but this was pure alpha scent.
Saint’s scent evoked images of frigid temps and fall leaves, holidays, and Christmas treats. Seth spent two full minutes sucking it in like a junkie before it finally clicked. Buttered rum. It was fucking delicious.
Seth couldn’t stifle the tiny noise that escaped, something far too close to a whimper for his comfort. His cheeks grew hot as he watched Saint duck his head, somehow looking both shy and pleased.
Seth just stared, enthralled as Saint looked up at him from beneath dark lashes. “You can have it…if you want.”
Seth blinked slowly, still a little drunk off the alpha’s scent. Have it? Seth dropped the shirt back into his lap but didn’t release it. Saint wanted him to have his shirt. “Oh, no, um…that’s ok?—”
“Can I have yours?” Saint asked, cutting him off, staring hard at the shirt in question.
Seth looked down at his oversized shirt, now dotted with the remnants of his cereal. Was it getting hot in there? He felt feverish. “You want my shirt?”
Saint’s lips parted, pink tongue darting out to lick over his lower lip, nodding slowly as his dark eyes burned a hole through Seth’s resolve. “Please.”
His please was said with a reverence that wiped Seth’s mind of all rational thought. “W-What are you gonna do with it?”
His gaze fell to Seth’s chest once more. “Just lay it on my pillow, that’s all. I promise.”
On his pillow? “Why?”
“So it will smell like you,” he said, like the answer was obvious.
Which, to be fair, it was. Or it would have been had Saint looked like anything other than a fucking demigod. They didn’t make sense. Seth was just a normal person and Saint…he was untouchable.
He was supposed to be untouchable. But there he was, trying so hard to be…touchable. For Seth. It made no sense. Guys who looked like Saint were meant to be with guys who looked like San…not Seth. He didn’t know what to do or say.
Guys didn’t hit on him like this. Alphas certainly definitely didn’t flirt with him like this. Was this even flirting? It seemed like Saint had pole vaulted past all the usual dating rituals and went straight to…what? What did he want from Seth? “You’re kind of intense,” he managed, voice barely above a whisper.
Saint didn’t answer, just stared at Seth’s lips with a hunger that made his stomach swoop and his ass…damp. Seth lost himself for a moment, watching the shadows of the television dance over the smooth side of Saint’s face.
“Does it bother you?” Saint finally asked, still staring.
Seth blinked, trying to remember what he’d even said under Saint’s scrutiny. Oh, right. Intense. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I just…I’m not used to this level of attention.”
Saint snorted. “I find that hard to believe.”
Seth gaped at him before some demon possessed him, compelling him to ask, “Why’s that?”
Saint shook his head. “Because you’re perfect.”
“Hardly,” Seth said, wishing he didn’t sound quite so bitter about it.
Saint leaned in, rough hand grasping Seth’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze once more. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he said again. “You’re pretty, funny, sweet, intelligent, and you clearly have a sex drive that can keep up with mine.”
Seth gave an indignant squawk, slapping the alpha’s hand away. “What? How could you possibly know that.”
Saint shrugged, undeterred by Seth’s outrage. “‘Cause you jerk off…like a lot.”
Seth stared at him, eyes cartoon wide. Surely, he must be the color of an overly ripe tomato. How could Saint possibly know that? Could he smell it on him? Oh, God. Could the others? No. That wasn’t a thing. Was it? If it was, Seth was going to murder San for not spilling that particular bit of information.
Seth opened his mouth and closed it twice before gathering the courage to ask, “Are you—How would…?” he trailed off, hands flailing, hoping the alpha was smart enough to fill in the blank.
Saint tilted his head, gaze raking over the omega, tongue peeking out as the barest hint of a smirk graced his sinful lips. Seth shivered.
“My room is right next to yours,” he reminded Seth. “The walls are…surprisingly thin.” Seth’s mouth went dry as he watched Saint drag his top teeth across his bottom lip, like he was picturing Seth with his hand around his cock. “And you’re…noisy.”
Seth groaned, slapping Saint’s arm hard. “Oh, my God. Shut up.”
He covered his face with his hands, trying to will the floor to open up and swallow him whole. He’d never been so embarrassed and so horny in his whole life. How many times had he gotten himself off since they’d gotten there? Saint was right. A lot. He’d been…stressed. Fuck. He couldn’t believe this was happening.
Saint tugged his hands from his face, his confusion obvious. “What? Why are you embarrassed? It’s biology. I think it’s sexy. I think you’re sexy. It took everything in me not to offer a hand.” Seth couldn’t even speak, shaking his head like he could somehow just reject everything that was happening. But Saint wasn’t having it. “Perfect. The perfect mate. My perfect mate.”
Seth wasn’t dreaming. He was dead. He had to be dead. He’d probably fallen in the shower and hit his head or something. There was no way this was actually happening. “I don’t know what to say to that.”
Saint still held Seth’s hands loosely. He should have made a run for it, but his legs were leaden. Saint flipped his arms over, his calloused thumbs stroking over the soft delicate skin of Seth’s inner wrists. Right over his smaller scent glands. “You don’t have to say anything.”
“I’m not sure how to—I mean—You can’t want me,” Seth finally managed, bewildered. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“I’ll show you,” Saint swore. “I can take care of you. I will if you just let me.”
Seth’s spine stiffened. There it was. He snatched his wrists from Saint, his touch still lingering on his skin. “I can take care of myself.”
Saint shook his head, giving him a look somewhere between irritation and confusion. “Of course, you can. Do I look like someone who would tolerate a weak mate?”
Seth’s heart suddenly felt like it might float from his chest. “No?”
“Exactly,” he said, like he was relieved they were finally on the same page.
“But then why say?—”
Saint cut him off. “Because I do want to take care of you.”
Seth’s head was spinning. “You do?”
He nodded. “Yeah. And I want you to take care of me. That’s what mates do. Take care of each other and their offspring…and their pack.”
Seth swallowed audibly, all the blood leaving his brain to rush south. Offspring? Was he implying he wanted them to have…babies? Their kids would be beautiful. And they would smell amazing. Like Christmas. Why was that so hot? Ugh, stupid biology.
“Can I scent you?” Saint suddenly asked.
What?“Uh, now?”
Saint nodded, gazing at him from beneath heavy lids. “It can just be wrists if you don’t trust me that close to your?—”
“Neck is fine,” Seth blurted, then looked away so he didn”t have to see if Saint was gloating at how desperate he sounded.
Seth exhaled a shuddery breath as the alpha curled one hand around the back of his neck, holding him still. The first touch of his nose against Seth’s scent gland has him biting back a moan, his lids slipping shut.
Without his vision, every touch became ten times more intense. Saint’s nose became his cheek, the stubble dragging deliciously over the same spot, making his toes curl in his ducky slippers.
Seth’s head bumped into something hard. The armrest. He was somehow on his back on the couch, Saint hovering over him, still rubbing his face across his neck. Before Seth could think too much about their change in position, Saint squeezed the back of his neck, wet tongue licking a broad stripe over the now over-stimulated spot, dragging an almost pornographic moan from Seth.
That seemed to be all the encouragement Saint needed. Tongue became teeth, teeth became teasing nips, those little nips became Saint burying his teeth into Seth’s skin, just shy of where a mating mark would go. The omega in Seth was losing it. They couldn’t. They wouldn’t. That would be insane. But Seth would be lying if he said part of him wasn’t about to start begging for it.
What was he talking about? He needed to put a stop to this…whatever this was. Just then, Saint’s full weight landed on him. Seth’s body immediately betrayed him, thighs parting so easily for the alpha.
Saint growled low, the sound vibrating through Seth like a tuning fork, sending shock waves of pleasure rippling through him. Their bodies slotted together perfectly, like they were made for each other. Seth’s body reacted on instinct, offering up more of his throat, his cock throbbing when it earned him another pleased rumble from his alpha.
No, not his alpha.
Saint didn’t belong to him. He didn’t. But it was hard to remember that when his cock rested heavy against the crease of Seth’s thigh. He did that. Him. Average little omega, Seth. The surge of power had him kicking his hips upwards, desperate for friction, whining at the sudden wetness in his underwear.
Saint slipped an arm beneath him, resting a hand on his lower back, encouraging his hips into a lazy rhythm as he sucked a mark into his neck. He couldn’t stop his fingers from gripping his broad shoulders or the way his nails dragged down his back when they connected just right.
Saint hissed as Seth shredded his back, hand sliding into his hair and wrenching his head to the other side to sink his teeth deep. Seth trembled, so hard, so wet, so overwhelmed and completely lost in the sensation it never even occurred to him to protest. Saint’s teeth nipped at his jaw, then his ear, a low growl punching a whine from him, his hips bucking up desperately when the alpha’s lips found their way back to Seth’s swollen scent gland, sucking deep once more. He was trying to mark Seth in the only way allowed. Saint’s lips left his skin with a wet sound, then he was licking over the spot like a mother cat soothing her cub.
Seth was not soothed. He was dying. This close to Saint, he could hear every ragged breath he pulled from him, every wet smack of his lips, the tiny grunts each time their cocks ground against each other.
Seth should have given Saint his shirt, then they’d both be topless, and he’d be able to feel the searing heat of Saint’s skin against his own. He couldn’t stop the whine of frustration, no longer content with the lazy pace Saint was setting. Seth’s restless hands slid around Saint’s waist, hands roaming the smooth planes of his back before sliding down to grip his ass, trying to coax him into moving faster, giving him more.
“So good for me,” Saint rasped against his skin.
Yes. He was good. Seth was a good omega. His good omega.
He was jerked from his thoughts by Saint’s irritated snarl. “All this and you still smell like him.”
Him?
“San?” Seth asked, still very much lost in the fog of his desperation.
His answer was an affirmative growl that shot electricity through his whole body.
“I’ve known San most of my life.”
Another animalistic sound slipped free. This one almost pouty.
Was Saint…jealous? Of San?
Seth buried his fingers in Saint’s hair and tugged hard, forcing him to look at him. When they locked eyes, Seth cupped his face, thumb tracing the white line of his scar as he said, “He’s my best friend. But he’s just a friend.”
And just like that, reality fell on his head. What was he doing? He dropped his hands from Saint’s face, shaking his head. Why was he defending himself?
Saint made a whiny noise, one hand cupping Seth’s neck as he nosed at his skin, right where a mating mark would be. “I don’t want you smelling like another alpha. Not until you’re fully mine.”
“Fully yours?” Seth echoed.
Saint was apparently no longer content to simply scent Seth’s throat, he was rubbing his cheek against Seth’s jaw, his hair, his movements almost desperate, leaving a delicious burn in their wake. Then his lips were right on Seth’s ear, voice like sandpaper. “Yes. Mine. Mated. Claimed. Fucked. Bred.” Seth gasped, but Saint wasn’t finished. “Then he can touch you. Once everyone knows, once they can see my mark on you…once they know you belong only to me, no matter who’s touching you.”
Seth’s cock kicked, pre-cum leaking as his body released even more slick. If he ruined this couch, he would literally die.
Fury and arousal battled inside him, lighting a fire low in his belly. He wanted to stake some kind of claim on Seth like he was property.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
“And what about you?” Seth heard himself ask. “Do I get to own you, too? I’m not some object you bought. You don’t just get to decide who gets to touch me and who doesn’t.”
Saint stared down at him, his confusion evident in the pinch of his brows. “Not an object. A mate. My mate.” His thumb ran along Seth’s cheek. “My perfect mate.”
Before Seth could swallow past the sudden baseball lodged in his windpipe, Saint dropped to his forearms, closing the distance until their lips were millimeters apart.
Saint sniffed the air, another pleased growl falling from his lips, making Seth erupt in goosebumps, a full body shiver running through him. He watched Saint’s nostrils flare, pupils blowing wide as he inhaled again, giving his own pleased shudder.
His voice was as low and smooth as his buttered rum scent as he murmured, “I can smell how wet you are for me.”
For me.Jesus.
Seth ducked his head, both irritated and embarrassed. “I can’t help that. An alpha is on top of me, scenting me. What did you think would happen?”
“Don’t be embarrassed.” Seth’s heart stopped as Saint dipped closer. Was he going to kiss him? Warm lips trailed along his jawline, then below, his soft tongue licking over the hollow of Seth’s throat. “I like it,” Saint assured him. “I fucking love that you’re so responsive.” Another lick. “Means you’ll be good and loud for me.” Teeth scraped over the unmarred side of his neck. “I need everyone to know how well I fuck you, how well I breed my mate.”
Fucking hell.
Seth bared his throat once more, whining and grinding against any part of Saint he could reach, fully prepared to ride his thigh until he came.
Somewhere in a distant room, a clock chimed the hour, pulling Seth back. “Stop. Stop.” Saint froze, drawing back, studying him carefully. “We-We should stop.”
“Why?” Saint asked, burying his face right against Seth’s scent gland, inhaling lungfuls like he could store it for later.
“I’m not… I don’t want to just be some omega you claim. You’re never going to control me. I’ll never be subservient to you.”
Saint huffed out an amused breath. “Why would you be?” he asked, lips smacking a stolen kiss over Seth’s abused neck.
He winced, leaking from both sides. Saint gave a low rumble. Fuck, he could definitely smell him now. Seth took a moment to focus, realizing he could smell Saint’s arousal, too. “Because you want to claim me and ‘own’ me.”
Saint pulled back once more, shaking his head. “So what? You’re going to claim me, too, right? You’ll own me, too. I promise to be equally subservient. More so even.” Seth’s breath caught as Saint rubbed the tip of his nose against his, crooning, “I promise to worship you nightly. On my knees. Anytime you want.”
Oh. Fuck.
Seth didn’t remember dragging Saint down again, he didn’t remember burying his face or mouthing over the alpha’s scent gland, but just like that, they were right back in it, two magnets too strong to drag apart.
It was so wrong. Pure insanity. But Saint felt so good on top of him, tasted so good under his tongue, smelled like all of Seth’s favorite things. It made his omega want to roll over and beg for his knot.
This time, Seth was in charge, Saint letting him do as he liked. He licked and kissed and sucked, scraped his teeth across any skin he could find, determined to mark Saint just as much as he had Seth. All with the added bonus of dragging these animalistic noises from his alpha.
The alpha.He would never be Seth’s alpha.
Saint didn’t know Seth. He couldn’t possibly know what a mess he was.
Before he knew it, he was blurting, “I’m not a perfect mate.”
Saint eased back, his amused facial expression implying he was all ears. “I’m stubborn and I-I have anxiety. And ADHD. And I get too in my head sometimes. I overdo everything because I feel I have to prove myself to be liked. I’m super insecure. You would spend your entire life having to reassure me you still like me. Daily. Maybe even hourly. Sometimes—when it’s really bad—maybe every minute.”
Saint shrugged. “Okay. Done.”
Seth sighed in exasperation. “Don’t make promises you don’t mean. I’m not even close to being done. I could workout more and snack way less. I definitely don’t have abs like yours.” He jiggled his tummy. “See? Smooshy. And also, Fen and I kiss…like a lot. And I don’t want to stop kissing him. And San is my best friend, alpha or not, and I’m not giving him up.”
Saint opened his mouth, but Seth held up his hand, hating the way the alpha’s lips twitched with amusement before he leaned down and licked over Seth’s collarbone. “Keep going. I’m listening.”
Seth shuddered. “And I will never let some alpha boss me around. I don’t care how good he smells or how nice his dick seems or how good his tongue feels on…on my collarbone.”
Saint’s laugh vibrated against Seth’s skin a moment before his hand slid under his shirt, massaging Seth’s soft stomach. “Perfect.”
Seth gave a frustrated whine. “I-I mean it. They’re my family…they’re my?—”
“Pack,” Saint completed.
“Yeah.”
“I get it,” he said, sucking at Seth’s Adam’s apple in a way that made him dizzy from the blood rushing back to his dick. “Packs share. I’ll share…eventually. You can have Fen whenever you want, but not San. Not yet. Even if he’s already had you.”
“Nobody has had me,” Seth said, eyes going wide.
Why did he keep telling people that?
Saint froze, pulling back to look at him, his gaze so greedy Seth whimpered, shifting restlessly beneath him.
“Nobody?” Saint murmured. Seth shook his head, unable to look away. Saint’s gaze roved over Seth’s face. When he spoke again, his voice was sandpaper raw again. “Don’t—Please, don’t let anyone else have you. Let me be your first. Please?”
“This is crazy,” Seth whispered, bewildered. “We’re strangers.”
“Are we?” he countered. “Don’t think, just answer. Do I feel like a stranger to you? Do I smell like a stranger to you? Does this feel wrong?” Seth could feel himself shaking. “Do you really not want this or do you just think you don’t deserve it?”
Seth swallowed hard, but the lump in his throat remained. “I…I don’t know. I’m confused. I can’t think with you on top of me.”
Saint’s weight disappeared so quickly Seth feared he’d float away like a balloon suddenly cut free.
The alpha stayed there for a minute before he dragged himself into a sitting position, staring straight ahead, but not at the tv, just the wall. “It’s okay if you need time.”
Tears suddenly slipped down Seth’s face. “I don’t need—” Seth cut himself off. “Don’t, like…wait on me. You’ll wait forever.”
Seth sniffled, irritated by his tears. When did they start?
Saint raised his hand, knuckles swiping at the wetness on his cheeks. “I’ve already waited twenty-eight years, I can wait a bit more. I’m patient.”
“I just said?—”
Saint cut him off. “And stubborn. Especially when I’m right.”
Seth should get out of there, run back to his room where it was safe. But then Saint asked, “Can I watch with you for a bit?”
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
Another minute passed, Seth’s eyes watching the television but not absorbing any of it. He glanced down at Saint’s leg. His hand rested there, palm up. When their eyes met, Saint asked, “Can I hold your hand?”
Seth hesitated. There was no reason to prolong this. He should say no. Go to bed. Hide under his covers and pretend none of this, whatever this was, had ever happened.
Saint’s palm was warm against Seth’s when he took it, threading their fingers together. Saint gave him a goofy little smile, making Seth’s heart feel floaty in his chest. He hesitantly returned it.
After a few minutes, Seth’s eyes started to burn, his lids drooping. He burrowed deeper into the sofa, resting his cheek against Saint’s bare shoulder, sighing at the warmth. That was the last thing he remembered before he felt himself lifted, bridal style, slightly jostled as strong arms carried him up the stairs like he weighed nothing.
When his head hit his pillow, he pried his eyelids open, determined to at least thank him for bringing him to his room. He expected to see him near the door, but instead, he was hovering over the opposite side of the bed, carefully placing his t-shirt on Seth’s spare pillow.
Seth couldn’t contain the smile that spread across his face.“For an alpha, you’re not very stealthy.”
Saint froze, caught in the act, a guilty look on his handsome face. After staring at each other for a solid thirty seconds, Saint reached for the shirt only to have Seth bat his hand away. “That’s mine. No takesy-backsies.”
Saint’s responding smile was blinding. “Okay.”
Seth watched him cross the room, half-hard again just from the confident prowl of his walk. He might be crazy and delusional but he sure was pretty.
“Wait!” Seth cried, then flushed when he realized he’d shouted.
Saint turned abruptly, looking worried. Seth took a deep breath, then dragged his shirt over his head before brushing his hair down awkwardly. Saint’s eyes went wide, lips parting as he stared at Seth’s chest and torso.
He fought the urge to cover himself, balling up his t-shirt and tossing it towards Saint, who managed to catch it without tearing his gaze from Seth.
He bit back a whine as he watched Saint bring the fabric to his nose, sniffing it as he continued to stare.
“Night,” Seth finally managed, throat raspy.
Saint looked high, his movements sluggish. “Mm, night…my little omega.”
The door closed before Seth could correct him. Which was good because Seth wasn’t exactly sure he would have.
Shit.
He waited a full sixty seconds before snatching Saint’s shirt and huffing it like paint. He was rock hard almost immediately. Fuck. That wasn’t good. He spread the shirt over his face, tempted to let his other hand slide into his pants and give himself the relief he’d needed for over an hour.
He can hear you…
Seth knew that should be a bad thing. He did. But the idea of Saint listening to him jerk off wasn’t nearly as appalling as it had been when he’d first said it. It kind of felt like the opposite of that. It was just making him harder.
But not tonight.
Seth could torture Saint some other night.
Right now, he just needed sleep.