Page 82 of Feral Alphas

Fuck! I thrust into his hand, whimpering at the idea.

“Fuck this,” he growls, positioning his dick to my pucker and pouring more beer on, making me hiss and shiver. “I need to be inside that sweet sheath of yours.” Colt grips my hips and presses against my asshole, and I deep breathe to let him through. For some reason his cock feels harder today, and I groan as he sinks home.

“That’s it, love, cry for me,” he murmurs. And he still doesn’t have a fucking clue what that word does to me. My cock flicks against the table in response.

“Do you want me to use you, Luka?” he asks, a burr roughening his voice. His fingers dig into my hips painfully. We’re all a bit wild over the news Rose gets to come home in two days.

“Yes, Sir. Use me like I’m a doll without feelings.”

My master moans and thrusts without warning, sending me sliding across the table. He hauls me back and I grab the edges of the polished wood to anchor myself as he does it again. His breath grates through his lungs as he does exactly what I asked—he always does. He’s more obedient than I am.

Every stroke sets my nerves on fire. Each fierce plunge drives out the chaos in my head like a sledgehammer doing renovations. Only in his hands like this can I be completely free of the ghosts.

He’s not gentle, and I wouldn’t want him to be. He uses me like his own personal glory hole, and my cock weeps in response, scraping against the table lip with each pass, flicking at my piercing and sending silky lightning directly through my hood.

“Master!” I whimper, ready to come apart.

“Dolls don’t speak, Luka,” he warns, panting with the exertion and reaching up to grasp my ponytail. And fuck if that doesn’t make me come in a blinding hit all over the table. My control’s a little shaky after jerking off during the day on camera.

A door squeaks open, and footsteps plod through the foyer. I stiffen, but Colt rests his hand on my back to calm me and keeps going as Kye calls from the other room. “Woohoo! Our omega’s coming! I bought champagne to cele—Oh, come on guys! That’s fucking disgusting!” Kye screeches from the doorway.

I quite like his pitchy worked-up voice and I turn my head to watch him, waiting to see how Colt will handle this moment.

Kye stares at us, shopping bags dangling from his fists. “Well, not the sex, I mean. That’s quite—er.” He blushes and clears his throat, dropping one bag so he can wave at the room. “But where we eat? Is that really necessary?”

“Don’t theypolish tables where you come from?” Colt asks, gentling his thrusts to better control his breathing, kind of like an engine on idle. “This is an antique here. Needs lots of love.” He takes a sip of the beer.

Kye rolls his eyes. “Not that sort of love!”

“No one says you have to eat here, so stop complaining and put your shopping away.”

I’m amazed Colt doesn’t tell him to leave the bags and piss off, but there’s something about the look of awe in the toff’s face which I wouldn’t mind seeing some more. The younger man does what he’s told, casting not so subtle glances at us as Colt thrusts deep again, groaning into me. I squeeze my muscles around him for fun, but then he enters his home stretch, thrusting so wildly I can’t even breathe.

I’m boosting into my orgasm when that fucking frat boy opens his damn mouth again. “Oh frick, I just realized why Luka looks so familiar. No way!” He covers his mouth with one hand. “I mean, we can’t really be sharing a house with the Bikie Butcher, can we?”

Colt freezes and the blood drains out of me—everywhere. That name burns. Not all places at once, but like acid drips working up one side of my body and down another and starting all over again. He had to find out some time, I guess, since he’s pack, but this isn’t the moment. I’m surprised he doesn’t already know from the Omega Center, but I guess my history is still classified information.

A low rumble rips through Colt as he pulls free, and I feel empty and weightless without his touch. I press into the table, wishing I was made of inanimate wood too.

Kye blanches, watching our reactions. “Oh shit, it’s true!” He jerks one hand through his hair. “That’s why you have your license in the first place, isn’t it? Because he’s the Butcher.”

In a blink, Colt has him by the throat pressed up against the refrigerator. “Kye Romdine, if that name ever passes your lips again, you’ll find yourself on the street faster than you can say alpha.”

His grip tightens and the room fills with the burnt orange scent of my pissed-off lover, darker and more bitter than I’ve ever smelt it before. “That man on the table is not what you called him. He’s been reborn, and a junior playboy like you couldn’t possibly understand what he’s been through. I will not offer a second warning. Do I make myself clear?”

Kye snarls and Colt cuts off his airflow completely, his powerful arm muscles bunching.

I sit up and cross my arms, tucking my cock out of sight behind my legs. It was limper than a deflated balloon a second ago, but seeing Colt come to my defense got my blood pumping with hurricane force. I don’t deserve this man, and yet he takes me, defends me.

Loves me.

Colt releases him and Kye drops against the stove, holding his throat and gasping. “But isn’t he dangerous?”

That smoky citrus scent flares again, strong enough to burn my nostrils. It’s so strong it makes even me quiver with the need to obey, and I’ve known him all my life. “I vouch my life and my soul for Luka, that’s all you need to know. You have one chance to give me the right answer, Kye. Do you understand?” He punctuates each of the three words.

I clench my hands together. Colt can’t possibly know the Arsenic Brothers joked they’d give their lives but never their souls for eachother. Our souls were too worthless to gamble with. But Colt’s soul is priceless.

“I understand.” The frightened lad glances at me. “I’m sorry.”

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