“Okay,” I say, catching my breath. I don’t argue because I can’t.
Something in me is different, and the fight is…gone. For now, anyway.
“It’s been hours; someone should make sure he’s okay. You know how he tends to forget to take care of himself when he gets focused.”
“Right,” I say, slinking towards the exit.
Just as I get to the door, I feel Gage’s hand on my hip. I turn, feeling more than vulnerable. I meet his soft gaze, and he squeezes my hip.
“You good?” he asks, and I’m not entirely sure how to answer him, because…
I am, I think. At least where Auryn is concerned. I meant what I said. I promised him, and I am a man of my word.
But I’m also kind of freaking out right now because his cum is dripping out of my ass, and I don’t hate it.
What the fuck doesthismean?
“Yeah,” I say, nodding. “Peachy keen, commander.” With that, I open the door and leave to help Olly.
Chapter 14
Auryn
Warmth surrounds me, but it isn’t the same warmth I’ve become accustomed to during my heat. It’s…different.
Comfortable, almost.
My body still aches, likely spent from the exertion and the crash after the euphoria. I curl closer to the body next to me. Diego’s eyes are closed, and he’s breathing steadily, but every nerve in my body tells me to be on alert.
I tense.
“Cálmate, princesa,” he says, his voice husky and low. It’s not quite a purr, but the tone is…
Soothing. I don’t dislike it, though I know I should. And all at once, that warmth rushes over me again, lighting up my insides, and I let out a sound of contentment beyond my control.
I hate it.
But it also feels strangely…good.
Though instinct tells me to activate my self-preservation, and that is the drive that wins out. I regrettably force myself away from Diego’s warm, cozy side, until I’m on the other side of the bed completely. I pull my naked legs up to my chest, wrapping my arms around my knees as the contentedness fades. I press my legs together to quell the desire already starting to form from looking at him.
He still smells like Gage, but…
Now he smells different, too. Like spicy peppers and bourbon and lemongrass. It’s a chaotic sort of scent, but it isn’t bad.
But it’s currently making me think of Gage, and my mind is a mess of thoughts that don’t add up.
“Stay there,” I say as he leans over just a fraction. He stops, his dark gaze meeting mine.
Part of me wonders if he’ll listen. If he’ll keep his distance. He should.
But there’s also a part of me that wants him to disobey my order.
My order.
Something about that word hangs in my thoughts, feeling substantial, though I can’t understand why. Omegas aren’t supposed to give orders, and alphas certainly aren’t supposed to adhere to them. It should be the other way around…
But there’s also a part of me that longs for that disobedience. That craves him in my space.
