Page 19 of Roulette Rodeo
Not a passed-around omega with a thousand-alpha body count. Not jaded or broken or used up by the system. Whateverher story, wherever she'd come from, she hadn't been completely claimed by this cesspool of a city.
Her arms wound around my neck, pulling herself up, and then?—
Jesus fucking Christ.
Her legs wrapped around my waist like she was climbing a tree, and suddenly she was straddling me, held up by my arms, the wall, and pure determination.
We kissed like the world was ending.
Wet, desperate, sloppy.
No finesse, no technique, just raw need that had been building since the first whiff of her scent. My hands cupped her ass, holding her in place, and she ground against me in a way that made me see stars.
My hands moved on their own, cupping the backs of her thighs and hauling her even higher, pinning her to the cinderblock wall so I could crush her closer. I was out of my mind. I’d been shot at, drowned, buried alive, and not once in all those missions had I ever, even for a second, lost control of my body. But a soft omega, unknown and unnamed, had me by the balls—literally and figuratively. Her hands were fisted in my hair, pulling so hard my scalp tingled, and the pressure of her core grinding against me through two layers of clothing was enough to make my vision blur at the edges.
We kissed harder, mouths colliding and teeth clashing, the air in the closet going hot and wet and fuck, I couldn’t get enough of her scent. She was intoxicating; if I could have bottled that aroma and mainlined it, I would have. My tongue swept the seam of her lips, coaxing her to open, to invite me deeper, and she did—shy but hungry, like she was learning the contours of her own desire for the first time.
I was—I am—utterly, totally gone.
But then, in the space of a single heartbeat, everything changed.
I needed to stop.
To breathe.
To think logically and not fuck a stranger in a storage closet when I didn't even know her name.
I broke the kiss, both of us gasping like we'd run a marathon.
Her eyes were wild—surprise, lust, confusion all swirling in those whiskey depths. Her lips were swollen from my assault, red and wet and so fucking tempting I had to look away before I dove back in.
"Fuck," she breathed, and even that word in her voice made my cock twitch.
Reality seemed to crash over her all at once. Her face went from flushed to crimson, and before I could react, her hand connected with my cheek in a slap that would have made my drill sergeant proud.
I didn't know whether to be surprised or more turned on.
The sting spread across my face, and I could feel the heat of her handprint like a brand.
Slowly, deliberately, I turned back to look at her.
My omega had a strong hand.
The thought hit me with possessive certainty.
Myomega.
Mine to protect, mine to claim, mine, mine, only mi?—
"W-W-W-Who are you?!" she stuttered, demand and panic fighting for dominance in her voice. Then, softer, like she'd just realized what she'd done, "Shit. I hit you."
Oh, she’s a firecracker. I like this…
"You did," I said, and I couldn't stop the grin that spread across my face. "And what are you going to do about abusing a veteran alpha, hmm?"
"V-Veteran?” Her eyes widened even further. “Abuse?!" Her voice went up an octave. "You're not quivering in mercy."
I chuckled, the sound coming from deeper in my chest than usual.
