Page 88 of Bonds of Hate

I lick the faint bruises on her shoulder that are in the shape of Logan’s fingers because I can’t help myself. She might smell like him, but by the time I’m done, the only thing she’ll taste like is me.

“There aren’t any rules here, Omega. Not when you’re with me. You can do whatever you want. That includes coming harder than you ever have before on your own fingers.”

My tongue traces the fragile pulse at the bend of her neck, feeling it throb. Her mating gland is small, invisible to the naked eye, but I can trace the edges of it with my tongue. The concentrated scent of her pulses just beneath the skin. I can practically taste it. God, can I taste it.

There isn’t much more of this temptation I can take before any sense of control goes out the window. If we don’t end this soon, I won’t be he held responsible for my actions. I need her to come all over our hands.

My palm grinds against her fingers with bruisingforce. Maya comes with a loud cry, eyes rolling in the back of her head, hard enough that I’m pretty sure she passes out for a few seconds.

She blinks owlishly up at me as she comes back down, a sleepwalker slowly returning to reality from their dream-like state. When I gently release the pressure of my hand on her, she lets out a soft whining sound. A pool of slick forms beneath her arching hips and I resist the urge to lick it up like a dog.

I could fuck her right now, and she’d probably thank me for it. Part of me wants to say damn Logan and damn the consequences of defying him because I know she’d be worth the inevitable pain of his punishment. He may not have decided whether he wants to keep her long-term, but that shouldn’t matter. Knotting her a few times for fun and bonding with her are not the same thing.

But, I’m still not going to do it.

Not because of Logan, and definitely not because of some newfound moral compass.

No. When I finally fuck Maya for real, it’s going to be because she begged for it, not because Logan messed with her head first.

“One of these days, I’m going to stop being such a gentleman.”

Gentle snores are the only response I get because she is already passed out.

I stare down at Maya’s sleeping form, curled up on my bed like she belongs there. Her chest rises and falls in the steady rhythm of deep sleep, face so peaceful that she almost looks young enough to make me uncomfortable. Her dressspills around her bared thighs, so she looks like nothing less than a temple offering.

A better man would be more concerned with worship.

But all I want to do is defile.

My instincts scream at me to join her, to wrap myself around her smaller frame and breathe in the calming scent of a satisfied Omega. But that would be dangerous territory. Sharing a bed is too close to bonded behavior, too intimate for what this arrangement is supposed to be.

Still, I can’t bring myself to have her taken back to the harem. Until she wakes up, I can allow myself to enjoy the novelty of having a satisfied Omega in my bed, one who feels secure enough to drift off to sleep in my den.

I leave quietly before I’m tempted to do something stupid like crawl into that bed with her.

The gala is still in full swing, though I’m not surprised to find Logan sitting alone at our table and nursing a half-empty glass. Judging from his red-rimmed eyes, that drink isn’t his first, second, or even third.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he demands.

I smirk. “Putting a sleepy kitten to bed.”

His nostrils flare. “Meaning what?”

“Meaning that if you’re going to piss all over our Omega like a dog, you could at least get her off afterwards. Otherwise, you’re just asking for another Alpha to do the job for you.”

He laughs, absolutely no humor in the sound. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I raise an eyebrow. “So it wasn’t you that put her in a chokehold and came all over her?”

Logan downs the rest of his drink and gestures to anearby servant for another. “She’s mine. I’ll do what I want with her.”

“She’s ours, you mean. We are a pack.”

His drink arrives and Logan snatches it off the tray with enough force to spill half of it on the back of his hand. “Maya isn’t pack.”

“That might be news to her, considering you have a mating contract.”

He scoffs. “Contracts can be broken.”

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