Page 89 of Dubious Match
Moving quickly down the stairs, I look for Felix, Malcolm, and Brice. It’s Sunday night, which means they’ve all been home all day. I did a little work on the dark web today, but had a hard time concentrating on anything else. It’s like my mind is fragmented and the only things I can do are things with the biggest dopamine payout.
Illegal activities apparently check that box. Go figure.
Humming under my breath, I find Brice reading the newspaper as I stalk him. Lazily looking up, he smirks at me.There’s an underlying sense of tension inside of him, and it gives me the impression that he’s not as relaxed as he seems to be.
“You look like an omega on a mission,” he purrs. I watch as he breathes in deeply, and I can feel myself beginning to slick. I’m getting a little needy.
Damn, I thought I’d have more time. There’s no pain yet, just an urgency todosomething.
“I need your shirt,” I growl, climbing into his lap. Tossing his paper to the side without a care, he wraps his hands around my hips.
“Why?” he asks.
Damn alphas and their little games.
Dragging my nose up his throat, I bite warningly into his skin. It’s not enough to create a bond, just enough to warn. The second I do it though, I want to mark him. Fuck. There’s no hesitation inside of me, I want it.
“Hollis,” he whispers. “God, fuck, baby.”
Incoherent alphas are kind of fun.
I can’t even say that I don’t know them. We’re getting to know each other, I’ve spilled some of my insecurities, and I’m more open than I am with a lot of other people. Not many know about Maree unless they’re part of the mafia community. Even then, they had to have been close to my family for that.
My parents buried my sister in their hearts when they couldn’t find anything in order to move on. I can’t forgive or forget that. Not ever.
It’s why I hold on so tightly to who she could be, but I’m done with the self sacrifice. I’ll look for her forever. However, I want my cake and alphas too.
Metaphors are mixing in my mind, and I lap at the bite mark with my tongue. I love the taste of sugar donuts.
“Hollis,” Brice begs, his fingers digging into my skin to the point of pain.
Moaning instead of responding to the pain, I rock my hips over his erection.
“Do you really want to talk?” I whisper. “Because I don’t.”
A part of me really wants Brice to be my first. I don’t know why. He’s the one I was pulled to first, and he’s been trying so hard to hold himself back.
What if he didn’t have to?
I’m really enjoying the thought of that.
“Fuck. I don’t know if I should call for help or just give in,” he groans.
“Brice. Give in. I need you before I completely lose myself to my heat,” I whimper. “Please? You promised.”
In a way, he did. He said he’d make sex good for me, so I could remember it before I lose myself to the haze of needing knots and cum.
His lips capture mine desperately, his tongue sucking mine in a way that goes straight to my clit as I moan.
“Anything you want,” he promises breathlessly. “You’re wearing too many clothes for this, baby.”
My hands immediately grab the bottom of my shirt and pull it over my head. I’m not wearing a bra today, and he groans as his hands move up to cup my breasts. I know that they’re on the larger side, which means I’m careful of what I wear, unless I’m flaunting it so I can have access to weapons that I shove in my cleavage.
“God, I can’t believe I finally get to play with you,” he groans as if my breasts are sentient. His hands squeeze gently, and then get more confident until I’m rocking forward over his pants covered cock as he pulls on my nipples.
“Oh,” I gasp. “Yes, more please.”
“So polite,” he growls. “I’m going to fuck you so good, Little Omega. Rise up or I’m ripping your pants off you.”
