“Did you stalk her bank manager for those insights?” I snipe, and grunt as he gives my nipple a warning pinch. “Ouch! Okay. I talked to a couple of her neighbors, and I think you’re right. They said the farm is always insanely busy during the festival, and she doesn’t have enough staff to help carry the load.”
“Then maybe that’s our way in,” he muses, and when I narrow my eyes at him, he drops the washcloth and takes my cock, giving it a practiced stroke. “But enough about that. I can tell you have a lot of frustration to work through.”
I’d growl at him, but this is Otley James to the core. He rarely does guilt or doubt, mainly because he lives by iron-hard rules, and only commits to an action once he’s planned it down to the last detail. I always thought I was an anomaly – the penniless student who rode his bicycle into his Bentley and somehow ended up ridinghim. But looking at the picture he’s propped on the vanity, it’s pretty clear that I wasn’t the first disruption to the meticulous order of his life.
Am I jealous?
I know I felt a flicker of that emotion when they first told me about their elusive scent match omega. Seven years later, they were still carrying around the hurt and disappointment of losing her. They thought they’d done the right thing by a young omega who was going through her first heat in a strange city, but she’d left without a backward glance. Or a forwarding address, according to Ellis’ uncle.
Fucking Crest.The only surprising thing about that asshole was that he’d died of a heart attack – since he’d never used the organ in his mean-spirited life.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Otley murmurs as he grips my chin and gives me a slow, drugging kiss. When he finally pulls back, I’m panting, and he nudges my leg until I’ve lifted my foot onto the wooden bench. Filling his hand with shower gel, he nibbles on his mating bite as he opens me up with his long, careful fingers. Otley is as good at sex as he is at everything else, and it doesn’t take long before I’m rocking against his hand and hissing in pleasure. When he turns me around and presses me gently against the glass, I find myself staring at Lily’s picture through lust-blurred eyes.
Is it deliberate? Does he want me staring at his scent match as he eases into me, his hot, hungry cock stirring every nerve to life?
“You feel so good, sweetheart,” he groans when he’s all the way in. The stretch isn’t quite as bad as it is with Ellis, but I’m still stuffed full as I reach back and grip his muscular thigh. “How do you want it? Hard or slow?”
“Slow,” I whisper, even though my earlier frustration is like a vise around my balls. I’m sure Otley would love to pound my angry ass into the shower wall, but he just makes a pleased sound as he pulls back, his thick cock dragging over my prostate before sliding back in. Pleasure ripples through me at each deliberate thrust, one strong hand cupping my hip while the other gently strokes my shaft. I’m so on edge, he knows that the slightest stroke over my tip will make me erupt, and my alpha always gives me what I asked for. Which is a steady, tender fucking that quickly has me clawing at his thigh, trying to urge him on.
There’s slow and then there’s Otley’s brand of perfect torture.
I give an ugly whimper as he stops mid-thrust and eases down onto the bench. Thankfully, he takes me with him, and when he’s all the way back in, I kick the shower door open, so we can both stare at the picture on the vanity. Is it creepy to be thinkingabout Lily when I’m sitting on her scent match’s cock? Probably, but that doesn’t stop the ripples of arousal dancing down my spine.
Otley, naturally, feels every one of them.
“You like her,” he murmurs, biting the side of my neck. He’s obsessed with his bonding bite, always finding an excuse to stick his thumb under my collar and rub the mating scar. He licks it now, tracing the raised flesh with his tongue, and I groan like he’s stabbed me. “I can feel you clenching around me, sweetheart. What’s made you so needy, do you think?”
He's toying with me, just like the hand easing me up and down his cock in a languid rhythm.
“Annoyed, not needy,” I snark back, but there’s no denying the tremble in my thighs, or the hungry way my ass is working his shaft. It takes all of my concentration to stop myself bouncing on him, and it only gets harder as I twist my neck to stare into his heated gaze. “You want her, too.”
“She’s lived in the back of my mind for a decade,” he admits, a rare vulnerability in his storm-cloud eyes. “Until I found you, I wondered if meeting her broke something in us.” I suck in a breath, and he uses the excuse to push his thumb between my lips, pressing down on my tongue. “Now I can’t stop thinking about you there with us, riding her through her heat while I fuck you boneless.”
“Boneless?” I try to arch a brow at him, but his next thrust makes me melt like hot wax. “Alpha…” I whine.
“Tell me you want it, too, my pretty boy.”
“Yes!” I pant, now riding him hard, his hands gripping me so tight I’ll have bruises in the morning. Luckily, that’s how I like it, and my alpha is an expert at marking me without causing pain. “I want us all together,” I tell him, arching against his chest. “I want to feel you throbbing inside me while I taste her on my tongue…”
The fantasy is ripped away from me as I come in a shuddering wave. Otley’s scent intensifies as he follows me over the edge, biting my throat through the spasms of our mutual pleasure. It’s only as I come back to myself that I realize he’s holding me around the waist so I don’t try to stuff his knot inside me. Despite the limitations of my biology, I’ve been known to get carried away and try to fit the fist-sized bulge in my pint-sized hole.
I’m ambitious by nature. Sue me.
“I think I could’ve taken you that time,” I murmur, tipping forward and resting my shaking hands on his knees. Bliss-filled and boneless, indeed.
“I still managed to come my brains out,” he replies, kissing the back of my neck as I lift up and stagger under the spray. He joins me, his knot a hard, pulsing temptation that I massage until he’s hissing through his teeth. He comes again, his release so hard it hits my thigh in a violent splatter. He kisses me through it, teeth and tongue dominating mine until I return the favor, head back and moaning as I fill his hand with my release.
Satiated and shivering, we wrap ourselves in fluffy bathrobes and pad downstairs to the kitchen. It’s late enough for my stomach to be protesting the absence of food, and we work side-by-side to pull dinner together. Mostly we survive on meals delivered from Otley’s favorite restaurants. As a financial backer for the Michelin-star bistro, Lexington’s, the head chef is only too happy to supply us with ready-made meals, even when Otley’s living in another state.
“Oh, yummy,” I groan as we take the reheatedpollo alla Sicilianato the table. When we’re settled and I’ve slaked the worst of my hunger, I look at him curiously. “What did you mean about our way in with Lily? You’re not going to spring some master plan on her, are you?”
He adjusts his glasses as he glances at his watch. “Give me another ten minutes and I can show you firsthand.”
I frown at the glimmer in his eyes, since it’s the same way he looks every time someone tells him that a business venture isn’t worth pursuing. Come to think of it, it’s the same look that makes sure my modest four-pack doesn’t turn into a couch cushion, given how little enthusiasm I have for exercise.
The front doorbell chimes ten minutes later, and I narrow my eyes at him as he gets to his feet, his hands smoothing down his robe. “Otley…”
His smile makes my stomach pinch, but it’s the hand on the back of my neck that propels me to the door. I know exactly how we look as he pulls it open, the weary-looking omega on the other side lifting tired eyes to take in our flushed, bliss-smeared faces.
