Page 84 of Bonds of Hate

“God, I’m close. You smell so fucking good.” Logan buries his nose in the curve of my neck. “Say it again. One last time.”

I want to burn until there is nothing left but ashes.

“I’ll never be your Omega. I would rather die.”

Logan comes with a loud groan. Splashes of searing heat coat my inner thighs and the sensitive skin of my mound as he continues to ejaculate for an amount of time that should be impossible. I’m coating in him, covered, so drenched in his spend and his scent that I’m walking advertisement for his sexual aggression. Enough bitter clove and amber to choke on it.

I should be angry, but I only feel bereft. My inner muscles spasm painfully around the empty space where a knot should be.

Music and laughter slowly filter into my awareness, reminding me that we are not in a space intended for true privacy. Everyone at the gala might not have heard the rabid sounds of him jerking off all over me, but it’s impossible that no one did.

And anyone who missed the live show will know from the moment I step out of this alcove.

Logan rubs his cum into my skin, scenting me thoroughly enough that I’ll probably still smell of him even after I’ve bathed. He finally steps away, letting the dress fall back down to cover me, fabric now tacky against my skin. The dress is ruined, but I can’t quite bring myself to care.

My body feels boneless and weak, only the support of the wall at my back keeping me on my feet.

Logan’s voice is quiet, but holds a deadly intensity. “This was your fault. This is what you Omegas always fucking do. You made me do this by pushing and testing me until you left me no choice. And this is what will happen every damn time you do it again.”

He just shakes his head and curses when I say nothing.

“This is what’s going to happen next. We’re going back out there — and don’t think I won’t carry you if you make me.” He picks up my underwear and uses that to wipe himself clean before tossing them at me. I let the lacy scrap bounce off my chest and fall to the ground at my feet, unable to physically react. “Then we’re going to stay on that dance floor until every fucking person in there understands exactly who you belong to.”

My legs feel weak enough to collapse, but I heave myself to my feet because I don’t want to give him any excuse to touch me.

The truth is that we both push, each of us trying to force the other into bending and posing in the right shape.

The real question is how much farther can we bend without breaking?

Chapter Eighteen

ARES

I’m really wishing I hadn’t made up some stupid excuse about an aching back.

First of all, my form is fucking perfect. Muscles don’t get pulled in my workouts.

Second, I’m stuck keeping a fucking seat warm when I could be tearing up a dance floor.

All because Logan can’t decide if he wants to show our Omega off to the crowd or start ripping out eyes because other Alphas have the nerve to look at the pretty piece of meat he put on display.

I’ve never seen him like this, not with Omegas, not with betas, not with anyone. His hormonal little mood swings are really starting to piss me off.

And not just because I don’t get to dance.

Elliot, one of Nikolai’s pack mates, lured Poe away with an offer to see some new gun he just bought. Cillian wandered off to the gods only know what, skulking little bastard. And I, the guy who should really be the life of this damn party, am stuck sitting at a table alone.

Where the fuck is Logan, anyway?

A commotion on the dance floor draws my attention. Offended sounds and gasps of outrage can be heard just before the crowd parts like the sea before an angry god.

Logan’s face is a mask of casual indifference, but the way people scatter tells me everything I need to know about the fury radiating off him.

When he gets closer and I see the hint of a satisfied smirk twisting his lips, I realize it’s the cloud of Alpha pheromones pouring off him that caused the stir. He reeks like he just spent the last week rolling around naked in his own cum-stained sheets.

The hell?

I straighten in my chair as he drops into his seat. “Where is Maya?”

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