Chapter 36 Orion
"Hand me a towel, please," Mona says primly, with a clipped edge in her tone, after turning the water off.
I chuckle, then reach for the curtain, but she tears it open before I can. Water droplets cascade down her naked curves, and I can't help but drink her in. The towel dangles from my fingertips. She snatches it away, wraps it around her body and marches into her bedroom.
"Firefly," I call out, following at a careful distance. "You okay?"
She narrows her eyes as she hops into a pair of sweatpants. It makes her tits bounce, and my mouth waters. She takes a deep breath, then lets it all out. "I cannot believe you let him do that to me!" she shrieks. "Suicide sprints! The word suicide is in them! I could have died!"
I try really hard not to laugh. I've never met anyone who hates exercise so much. "Also known as shuttle sprints. I mean, it's meant to strengthen your endurance, Mona. I think you're being a little dramatic."
She ignores me and keeps yelling. "But he wouldn't let me use Beep's strength and speed!
And then that little wench agreed with him and she wouldn't share her power, making me do all the work!
" Mona throws her arms in the air, absolutely incensed by the workout Grayson just put her through.
I sat on the sidelines grinning, cheering her on while she glared at me the whole time. Grayson didn't go easy on her, either.
But she has shifter healing, and I bet her muscles already feel back to normal. She's not panting anymore, at least.
It's hard to take her anger seriously while she's topless. I can't look away. She really has a magnificent body, and it's drowning all rational thought.
"Orion!"
"Yes, firefly?" I clear my throat and hand over her shirt. As I pass it, my fingers graze her wrist, connecting for a heartbeat longer than necessary before I release the material.
The air changes. Her chest is heaving, nipples straining against nothing, and her scent—that goddamn honey-sweet perfume—blooms between us, thick enough to taste. Her fingers tremble as she slides on her shirt, the material catching on her curves.
Mona turns—slowly, cautiously—and walks out of the room.
I don't know where she's going, but I follow her down the hall, to the stairs, up to the third floor, keeping exactly two steps behind, watching her ass move with the precision of a surgeon.
Each cheek lifting and rotating as she steps.
The unhurried, hypnotic movement, the sway of her hips, captivates me.
She walks into one of the empty rooms, and I follow her like a man possessed.
She turns to face me in the center of the room.
It feels like the space shrinks. The air thickens, becomes dense and electric.
My skin feels too tight for my body. A bed sits in the corner, and I imagine her sprawled across it, hair fanned out, legs open.
But I don't need the bed. I'd take her against the wall, on the floor, bent over anything.
I'd make her scream my name until her voice gives out.
Our eyes lock, and for a moment, I forget why we were even arguing.
All I can think about is how many steps it would take to close this unacceptable distance between us.
We were working out. Then Grayson said he had to run to the kitchens.
He wanted to make something special for dinner tonight.
I followed Mona upstairs to her bedroom.
She huffed grievances under her breath as I watched her get undressed, then climb into the shower.
She swung the shower curtain shut in my face, but didn't ask me to leave.
I asked if she wanted me to wash her hair for her, and she snuck her hand out of the small opening of the shower curtain and gave me the finger.
Her immaturity made me laugh.
Mona flips through emotions like she's browsing a playlist. Picking and choosing what she's in the mood for. My beautiful, darling, antagonistic little omega has gone from angry to annoyed to turned on in a matter of minutes.
Mona takes one step backward. Her eyes glitter, lips pulling into a half-smirk. "Hey Orion?"
"Hmm?" My brain is liquid. All functionality is in my dick.
My alpha pulses inside my chest, every breath drawing her scent deeper.
Every cell in my body, the primal part of my brain, vibrates with the need to claim her.
I want to feel her soft curves yield in my hands.
I want to lick the salt off her skin, swallow down her screams.
She takes another step back.
"Yes?" I try again, my voice sounding rough, as though I haven't used it in days.
"How bad do you want me right now?"
My eyes shoot up to hers. "Don't challenge me, omega. Not right now. You won't win." It's a caution as much as anything else. I'm hanging on by a thread. My knot is twitching. My cock throbs against my zipper. The need to rut into her is making my vision hazy.
The fact that we're leaving tomorrow only makes this moment feel more urgent.
This hunger isn't even about sex, though the need to sink inside her is unlike anything I've ever felt.
It's about claiming her—getting so deep, burrowing so far inside her that there isn't room for anything else.
Like I told her a few days ago—everything else around us, it's all just static.
Being with her is at the center of my soul.
I told her this morning that I wasn't in any rush, and that's true. I'm simply waiting for the right moment to show her who I really am. All the parts of me.
The gentle partner, the caring mate. And the feral beast who hides beneath my skin, who will stop at nothing to sink himself so fucking deep inside her that I brand her insides with my cock so she feels the echo of me with every step she takes for the rest of her fucking life.
"I think I'm still mad at you, Orion," Mona says lightly. "I think…" She takes another step until her back hits the balcony doors. She fiddles with the lock behind her. My heart beats faster. My cock grows stiffer. I swallow the venom dripping from my teeth.
"I think you have to earn my forgiveness," she lilts.
I cock my head to the side. The door pushes open at her back, and she steps onto the balcony. Behind her, in the distance, the mountains sprawl. Her vibrant red hair glows against the sky-blue backdrop. She's a vision.
Mona isn't skilled in the art of seduction. Her ass hits the railing, and she squeaks, then peeks over the side, eyeing the drop.
"Mona…" I warn her.
"You can earn my forgiveness…" She peers over the side one more time. Then, her smile lights up my fucking heart, which immediately bursts in terror when she hops up onto the railing. "If you can catch me!" Then she fucking jumps.
I hear a dull thud, and an "Oof," as I spring forward with a roar.
Peering over the railing, I find her below, eyes wide, staring up at me with a guilty, excited expression.
"Where you going, firefly?" I shout before gripping the railing and launching myself over the side. Before I land, she squeals like prey and bolts for the front of the house, her scent spiking with adrenaline. I run, chasing her around the side.
Her scent grows wild, and I'm only steps behind her when she reaches the porch. Just as she opens the front door, I snag around her waist and swing her up into the air.
She screams, and the sound rushes through me, making my heart pump faster, flooding each thundering pulse straight to my cock. She squirms out of reach and takes off, tripping over her own feet, slipping on a rug.
I click my tongue, shaking my head. "Firefly, all you're doing is showing me what I need to train you in."
She stumbles into a side table, runs down the hall, skidding into the kitchen.
"Agility, balance, stamina," I count off on my fingers while I stalk after her.
Her heart is racing, the scent fucking intoxicating.
So sweet. Stronger than it was this morning.
The honey is so thick I can taste it on my tongue.
I storm after her, finding her in the kitchen, a wild look in her eyes.
Her hair is still wet from the shower, cheeks and lips flushed red.
She clutches a chair, holding the seat between us.
I dart left, she swings right. So I fake right, and when she lets go of the chair and flies left, we collide.
Picking her up with one arm, I toss the chair out of the way—it crashes into the wall—then, with both hands, I squeeze her ass, lifting her and holding her against me. Striding to the table, I drop her down, spin her around, and shove her torso over the tabletop.
Her breath hitches, and when I grip her waistband and rip her pants down and off, she cries out, cursing loudly.
"Bad girl, running from your alpha," I growl, gripping her ass cheek tightly, jiggling all that I can hold in my fist. I fucking love her ass. I push my other hand flat between her shoulder blades, keeping her bent.
"Spread them."
She grunts, forehead pressing into the table, then spreads her legs. I release her and step back, taking in the beautiful mess of my mate, legs spread, ass high in the air, bent over the fucking table.
She looks back over her shoulder, blue eyes gleaming through strands of messy red hair. "You're not forgiven yet."
I laugh darkly. She's teasing me, but I don't think she has any idea the demon she's trying to unleash.
"That's right. I have to earn it," I tease back, reaching out and squeezing her ass cheek again, tighter this time, shaking it for good measure. Leaning over her back, my hard cock finds its way between her thighs. She moans and arches her back, pressing her ass against me.
My head gets fucking dizzy, my cock throbbing so violently I have to clench every muscle not to explode right there.
Fighting for one last moment of control, needing her to understand what's about to happen—that once we start, there's no going back, that I'm going to claim every inch of her—I offer her an out.