Page 69 of Mark & Don't Tell

She presses her tits into my chest. She’s still wearing a shirt, but she feels so good like this that it doesn’t matter. Daria clings to me, and I tighten my grip on her hair, pulling hard as I work into her steadily, keeping my pace as she starts to make sounds that’ll play in my mind for days to come.

As every part of her clamps around me, I bite her neck, not breaking the skin but definitely leaving a mark. She screams, the pure pleasure of her cry undoing every ounce of my control.

All it takes is two pumps before I’m spilling inside of her, wishing I could pause this moment and stay here forever. Sex has never felt like this. It’s never felt so easy. So real.

“I love how that feels,” she says, moaning as another spurt of cum sprays inside of her.

Unable to respond, I simply rest my forehead on her shoulder and pant, holding myself deep inside of her, loving the way she feels with my cum coating her. And like the sweet angel she is, Daria feathers her lips against my cheek.

“I love having you inside me. Can we stay like this?”

It’s like she’s trying to steal my heart.

“We can do whatever you want,” I tell her, holding her tight before rolling so I’m on my back and she’s on top of me.

The new position pushes me deeper inside of her, and while I’m spent, I groan at the way her walls clamp down around me in approval.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” She sits and wiggles nervously in my lap.

I swear my dick is debating whether it can get hard again, because it twitches in response. “The only way you’d hurt me is if you left me,” I tell her, baring too much of my soul way too early.

She goes still and holds my gaze, her palms stroking over my chest. “I’m not leaving,” she says firmly.

Giving her a lazy smile, hiding how scared I am that she might break that promise, I run my hands up her thighs. “Then, let me fall asleep with my cock inside of that pretty pussy, little doe.”

“It is pretty, isn’t it?” she asks with a cute grin.

“The prettiest, now come here.”

And she listens, easing onto my chest and nestling her head into the crook of my neck. Breathing in, she hums in approval.

“I love having a stalker.”

Twenty-Five

LINC

I’m in my office when she arrives. Terrance is helping her settle into her office, and while I know, for a fact, she’s not his type, I still clench my fists as I stare out of the window and see them laughing together.

If he weren’t so valuable to our research and development team, I might have a few harsh words for him, driven 100% by irrational jealousy. But he is. I can’t storm out there and demand to know why they’re laughing.

That would be too much. Too intense.

Still, the next time she grins at him, a grin that I’d much rather have set on me or any of my pack, I stride out of my office and toward her cubicle.

Terrance sees me coming and nods. “Hey, boss.”

“Hey,” I tell him with a real smile because he’s not responsible for my alpha—get away from my unmarked omega before I rip your head off—ness. “Settling in okay?” I ask Daria. The black slacks she’s wearing are tight and mold to her body, whereas her pale pink top is loose and...flowy? Whatever. It’s hiding far too many curves for my liking, and there’s the matter of the bow right above her left breast, which appears to be holding the whole thing together.

How mad would she be if I broke her shirt just to watch it flutter to the floor?

She subtly inhales, and I do the same, fighting a groan.

To anyone else, our scents are just that. Scents. Every person has their own unique genetic makeup, and what appeals to one person, may not appeal to another. To some, my scent might smell more like ammonia or something equally unappealing.

But I smell more than her perfume. Daria smells like lavender and sex. My cock hardening, I stick my hands into the pockets of my pants, fighting a grumpy growl as I keep my expression pleasantly neutral.

Vic. Fucker. Though, I shouldn’t be surprised he found a way to get to her. His collar looks quite lovely around her neck.

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