Page 14 of Feral Alphas

Colt groans and shakes his head, his spiky hair scraping at my bare chest. “Not with me screwing up our money situation.”

My heart leaps into my throat. How on earth can he think so, when I’m the one sponging off his generosity? “Don’t say that,” I reply bitterly. “You tried your best. It’s not your fault all those shares tanked. I’m the one not contributing.”

He rises and presses his trigger finger to my lips. “Hush. It’s my pleasure to provide for my sub.” Even though he never wanted to be a dom in the first place, he’s embraced the role so deeply, researching it late into the nights after he first started putting the pieces of me back together, and even joining a doms’ group to learn how to be my master.

All I have left to repay him with is my body. “Can I touch you, Sir?”

“You may.” He nuzzles into my neck, releasing a hit of his alpha pheromones as he breaths in my skin scent so deeply my pulse sputters.

All my anxiety melts away as I put my arms around him and press into his broad chest. Rubbing into him leaves some of my body scent on his skin and he grins down at me, one hand drifting between my legs to my aching cock.

“Making sure I’m yours?”

Tingles run up my spine as his hand closes around my erection. “Is that alright, Sir?” Even though I control my alpha scent so it never spills out, it still feels like I’m marking him.

He massages me twice before answering, “I’ll allow it today.”

I puff out a breath and writhe closer, melting into his touch. Just as he stepped into the dominating role, he fists my cock with certainty, knowing all my weaknesses and making me moan.

He leans over and nibbles on my lips. “How many orgasms will it take to make this wood settle today, do you think?” He fingers the sensitive slit on my cock and my breath catches.

“Five,” I guess, dragging one arm from around his neck to toy with his nipples. Since he doesn’t always allow me free touch, I’ll make the most of it.

He hums happily as I flick his tight peaks. “Five? My sub sure is hungry today. If I do it right, I bet four.”

I chuckle. Most alphas get permanent hard-ons during rut, but I have the special privilege of having it nearly all year round. The fact this alpha puts up with my needs is a miracle.

He asks me to grab the lube from the bedside table and when I arch over backward, he bites my nipple, making me gasp. The sound makes him chuckle against my flushed skin. “Either way, it looks like I’m getting my work out tonight. Who needs fancy home gyms?”

I pass him the lube before silently stroking his cheek. Once, before the false-positive omega, he used to say we were training for an omega heat, but he doesn’t say that anymore.

On the side table lies the two bills that came today, both due the day before his pay comes in. If I think about it too hard, I’ll end up a rocking wreck in the corner. Once I’m relaxed and not hard as concrete, I’ll bring it up with him. Maybe.

“Open your knees for me, my gorgeous fuck,” Colt says, lubing himself up. I comply with an eager moan, letting the dull needs of adulting slip away in favor of ecstasy.

The scent of melted butter on fresh bread lingers as I clear the table and pile the dishes in the sink. I suppose it’s a good thing we live alone, since others would probably be traumatized eating off the same table we polished with cum a few hours ago—even though I did wipe it clean.

Colt immediately disappears into his office, his mind already on the big case he’s hoping to blow wide open. He deserves a win. As long as you don’t need much chat or gratitude, Colt’s easy to be around, which is fine by me because I don’t deserve any.

After I’ve put everything back exactly in position and watered the couple of houseplants that haven’t yet died like most things I touch, I take another look at the two bills.

Three-fifty for water and twelve ninety-five for property taxes.

“Fuck!” I hiss under my breath as I drop them back on the desk. If I got a job, it would help, but every time I’ve tried, I end up with panic attacks, lashing out at enemies the authorities tell me only exist in my head. The only thing I successfully attend is my group therapy once a week and, surprisingly, the occasional church service. Most choir music relaxes me.

So, I need to do something from home, but there’s only two things I’m good at, and killing people is no longer an option. And Isure ain’t screwing around on the only man who doesn’t look at me like I’m trash.

With a faint growl I shove the bills into my drawer. I’ll ring the water company tomorrow and request another extension. Picking up my sudoku book and my scratched EarPods and phone, as well as a bottle of sparkling water, I head to the office and wait at the door until Colt acknowledges my presence.

“Come in, love.” He tosses that word out so easily, as if it doesn’t make him a gift of Heaven to love a broken thing like me.

“Yes, Sir.” I set the water on his desk, then drag the bean bag from its home in the corner and plop it down by his legs. The beans crunch as I settle into place and flip open my puzzle book. Numbers, order, housework, and submission; four things keep me from spiraling into lawless chaos.

The Arsenic Brothers broke me. That’s what they do to people who fail missions, only it used to be my task to do the breaking. But the fucker they called in to replace me didn’t do a good enough job, because I didn’t die.

Colt taps my shoulder and I pull out one earpiece so I can hear him clearly. “What are you listening to?”

I wince, knowing he won’t like the answer. “Rephnelium and the Greater Darinian Choir.”

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