Page 35 of Knot Their Girl
“Goddamn it” I hear him exclaim, but I don’t pay too much more attention to Pax or what he may or may not say as I march away. I earn myself a few questioning glances from passersby. Mostly betas, with a few alphas here and there mixed in. You can tell which alphas are bonded to an omega, because they hardly look at me. It’s the unbonded alphas that, even with my scent-blocking cream, give me curious, semi-hungry looks as I walk along.
It’s nature’s way of keeping balance. Although, if nature really wanted to balance things out, she would’ve created an equal amount of omegas per alpha—but no. Had to be more scarce with us omegas, and basically force alphas into packs of testosterone.
I make it to the corner of the block and mentally weigh whether I want to keep going straight or turn with the block. I don’t get to do either of those things, though, because a firm, strong hand curls around my wrist, and I whip my head back to see Pax standing there, frowning at me, his scowl so intense it’s practically chiseled onto his face.
“Let me go,” I whisper, unable to yank my wrist free, so I don’t struggle too much. Plus, the damn heat radiating from his skin into mine is enough to set me on fire. God, what’s wrong with me?
“No,” he hisses out. “Come back to the car willingly, or I’ll carry you.”
I laugh even though it’s a mirthless sound. “I’d like to see you try—” I barely get the words out before Pax releases my wrist… only so his tall figure can bend over and he can scoop me up in his arms like the petulant child I’m pretending to be.
Only I’m not a child. I’m all too aware of that in this particular moment.
His arms curled under me, I’m cradled against his rock-hard chest as he spins us and heads to wherever he hurriedlyparked the car so he could come after me. People are now openly staring, though nobody tries to step in. They must think I’m being a stubborn omega, his omega, and he’s simply taking care of business, handling me how any alpha should. Pax stares straight ahead, a muscle in his jaw clenched so hard I can see it on his stubble-covered cheek.
My omega instincts are dying to kick in right now. A stupid part of me really wants to lean up into the crook of his neck and breathe him in deeply—but that stupid part of me must not be aware that I won’t be able to smell him. Plus, I’d only make a fool of myself if I did anything like that.
But I want to. God, do I want to. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything this badly before in my entire life, and I don’t know how to handle it.
I’m so conflicted, more conflicted than I’ve ever been, that I do something I’m not proud of. I do something I want to smack myself for, once it’s out of me.
I whine.
And not a childish whine that includes dragging out words and kicking my feet on the floor in an effort to get what I want. No, this whine is different. It’s an omega whine, from deep within my lungs, a sound I’ve never, ever made before in my life.
The second that sound leaves my chest, Pax’s long legs skid to a halt, and his head whips to the side, his hard expression softening the moment we meet eyes. For the first time, I can’t read his face, so I don’t know what he’s thinking.
“I—” I do something else I don’t normally do: I stumble over my words. “I didn’t mean to. I… I take it back?”
But it’s too late to take it back. He already heard it, and now he’s giving me a strange look—and I hate that I can’t read that look. I don’t know if he’s thinking that I’m insane, or if he’s fighting something inside himself to try to overlook that whine of mine.
And then, fuck, this is super embarrassing, I whineagain. I can blame that one on how confused I am, and on the look on Pax’s face. But once that second whine comes out of me, it’s too late to take it back. I could take one back and play it off like a mistake, a one-off that will never, ever happen again, but a second? My body must know what it’s doing, and it refuses to be stifled, even with those scent-dampening injections.
Pax’s arms tighten around me, and he moves fast. Before I know it, we’re back at the car, only he doesn’t put me inside. He sets me on the side of the hood, sitting me so my legs drape off the edge, but he doesn’t move away after that. No, he remains close, his tall frame leaning over so he practically blocks the whole world, and his hands grip my waist like he never wants to let me go.
A sound leaves him right then, as he leans the side of his face against mine. It emanates from his wide, strong chest, so low only I can hear it, a comforting vibration. A freakingpurr. An alpha’s instinctual attempt at calming an omega down—but I’ve only ever heard of alpha’s purring when they’re trying to comfort their omega, and I am certainly not Pax’s omega.
I’m not, even if my body suddenly craves it like it’s never craved anything else before.
The hands on my waist roam up my back, pulling me in tightly against his purring chest, and I let him hold me close. As much as I hate to admit it, the purring is nice. It is calming. I close my eyes and try to breathe him in as I lean into his neck, but I can’t. My nose doesn’t pick up on any scent, and because of the dissatisfaction, the emptiness I inhale, I whine a third time.
Fuck. What’s gotten into me? Why can’t I stop this whining?
“Raeka,” he breathes out my name and makes me shiver against him, his chest still purring. “Why can’t I smell you?” I react instinctively, turning my face away from his and giving himbetter access to my neck: an act of submission. “I want to smell you. I need…”
Pax then does something that both startles me and makes me melt into him even further: he runs his tongue over the sensitive skin above my scent gland, and I moan softly at the action. He licks the same spot again, his purr deepening in what must be appreciation for unmasking my scent beneath the cream I put on earlier.
“There you are,” he murmurs against my neck, his lips grazing that sensitive skin with every word. “There’s my Raeka.” It leaves him so easily, so simply, as if he’s stating a fact we both know to be true, and, damn it, I can’t even find it in me to try to argue with him.
Right here, in this moment, what else am I if I’m not his?
“Don’t you dare ever leave me like that again,” he whispers as he nuzzles against my neck and makes me whimper and cling to him like the helpless omega I apparently am. “Do you understand? Don’t run from me again. I will always give chase when it’s you, and when I catch you…” His fingers splay on my back, as if he can’t get enough of me in his hands.
“You’ll punish me, alpha?” The words slip out of me before I can think whether or not it’s a good idea to say them. But that’s the problem right now: I can’t think straight, and if I have to guess, neither can he.
“I’ll do more than that,” he promises me, licking over my scent gland again. His purr turns into a hungry growl that echoes and reverberates deep within my core, and my body reacts by tightening my thighs as I start to leak slick.
Shit.
