I towered over him, using my size to cage him in effortlessly, a hand wrapping around the back of his neck to smoosh his cheek against the glass. His labored breathing against the mirror clouded it, the press of his face leaving smudged lip marks on the mirror that I envied.
It was me who deserved the feel of Joon’s lips.
“Told you I’d win,” I said with a grin hidden by my mask, using my booted foot to kick out the omega’s ankle, spreading his legs for me as I bore down on him.
“Let me go,” he demanded with a low groan.
Though it didn’t seem that was what he really wanted, not with his back arching to press his plump ass against the ridge of my stiff cock in a bid for friction that I answered with a hard grind against him.
“No can do, Gattino,” I sing-songed, delighted in this outcome. “I’ve come to claim my prize, and I intend on doing so. Viciously.”
“Well, now I’m busy,” Joon huffed, struggling against my hold.
I collected his wrists in my free hand, removing the leverage he attempted to use to break free, my forehead resting against the mirror.
“Busy?’
“I was left to my own devices for too long,” he said, like it was obvious, continuing to struggle.
I’d call it pointless, save for the fact that with every huff of breath and wriggled attempt to free himself, his ass met my cock, teasing me through my pants. I refused to let go, adjusting my grip on his neck to circle my long, tattooed fingers around his throat. The dark bones shaded against my flesh, a mirror of the inside brought to the surface, nearly made my skin glow in contrast as they flexed in warning that I could andwouldcut off the omega’s airflow.
Joon’s eyes flashed with excitement, my view of them distorted in the foggy glass.
“Find someone else to play with?” I asked, my voice coming out rough with irritation. Even the concept was unacceptable.
There was no one else. There would be no one else.
Only me, and my pack, his alphas.
Joon’s Alphas.
“I—”
“Iwon,” I snarled, hand leaving his throat to find his shoulder, flipping him around to face me with the back of his head meeting the mirror with a hardcrack. “You’re my toy, my prize.”
“You don’t own me,” Joon said defiantly, meeting my gaze through the slits cut into my mask before glancing over my shoulder.
I towered over him, anger pulsing through my veins like poison.
It wasn’t his words that bothered me, or even his snotty fucking tone—though both would come with consequences. It was the way his focus was still on whoever he was looking for before I’d come across him, made obvious by his fractured attention.
Infuriating.
I gripped his chin, forcing his eyes up to me where they should be.
The barest tremble of his body under my touch made me swell with pride. It didn’t matter if it was fear alone that motivated him; I would relish in the delicate agony of being his monster—but when a thick flood of sticky, sugary apples invaded my senses, I realized that it wasn’t fear that had my omega quivering in my grasp, butdesire.
It took every fibre of my outstanding self-control to stop myself from digging my teeth into him there and then.
But Joon didn’t want a pack, didn’t want me—so he said—and I was willing, for a time, to honor those wishes.
At least until I changed his mind.
Still, his words troubled me.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I murmured, leaning in close until my masked face was all that was reflected in Joon’s glassy, needy eyes. “You belong to me as surely as the knife in my pocket. A tool I will do whatever I desire with, whenever I feel the need.”
Joon gasped, struggling against me, his throat pressing against my hand until he coughed. Breaths coming quick and shallow.
