I chuckle, deep and resonant, stepping closer until our bodies align. My hand finds her throat—not squeezing, just holding with possessive gentleness, feeling her pulse race under my palm. I tilt her chin up and crash my lips to hers, merciless in my claim, pouring every ounce of gratitude and desire into the kiss. She moans into my mouth, the sound vibrating through me, and our tongues tangle in a frantic dance—wet, heated, tasting of her arousal and my need. We're breathless when we break apart, our exhales visible in the chilled air like ghostly confessions, mingling in the space between us as we gasp for oxygen.
"What if I fucked you right here, hmm?" I murmur against her swollen lips, my free hand trailing down to grip the front of her skirt, lifting it just enough to expose her to the night. She shivers, gooseflesh rising on her thighs as the cold draft teases her still-sensitive pussy, but her eyes darken with intrigue rather than protest. "That was on that Valentine's list of yours, wasn't it? The one you thought you hid so well."
Her blush deepens to a scandalous scarlet, spreading down her neck, and she stutters—actually stutters, that quiet shell cracking under the weight of her boldness. "I-I scratched it out. It was just a silly thought."
I smirk, leaning in to nip at her earlobe.
"You think I can't decode that? A few scribbles don't hide your desires from me, Sweet Queen." The pet name draws a soft gasp from her, and I use the moment to tease her folds again with my fingers, dipping into her wetness, circling her entrance until she's arching into my touch. She's soaked anew, slick coating my digits, and the sight of her thin lace underwear—barely a barrier, translucent now—stirs something primal in me. "Wearing something this flimsy... as if you wanted the world to catch your scent. It drives me feral, thinking of all those eyeson what's mine. Possessive? Absolutely. But I'll claim you here, now, so there's no doubt."
Her breath hitches, but she doesn't pull away—her fearless core shining through in the way she meets my gaze, bold and unyielding despite the shy tilt of her head. I make quick work of my zipper, freeing my cock—hard, throbbing, veins pulsing with neglected need. I haven't been this achingly erect in ages, the kind of hardness that borders on pain, demanding immediate relief. No delays; I line up and slide into her in one solid thrust, burying myself to the hilt in her overwhelming warmth.
I sigh—a deep, soul-shuddering release—as her pussy envelops me, tight and hot, clenching like a vice designed for my undoing. The contrast is exquisite: the garden's chill nipping at my exposed skin while her core blazes around me, pulling me deeper. I begin to move, slow at first, savoring the drag and pull, whispering against her lips, "You're going to be a good, quiet Omega and not a rebel as usual, yes? No drawing attention with those pretty sounds."
"Mhmm," she breathes, nodding as her hands clutch my shoulders, nails digging through velvet in silent agreement.
I praise her with a kiss to her throat, thrusting deeper. "So submissive for only your pack, yes? My bold little go-getter, fearless in everything else, but here... you yield so beautifully." She nods again, eyes fluttering shut, and I pick up the pace, fucking her faster, the wet sounds of our joining muffled by her skirt. When I lift one of her legs, hooking it over my hip to change the angle, she gasps—sharp and sweet—as I hit her G-spot with precision, the new depth making stars burst behind my eyelids.
I'm close already, teetering on the edge, but I want her with me. I fuck her hard and fast now, hips snapping with urgent rhythm, the fairy lights blurring around us as tension coils tight. She whimpers into my mouth as I claim her lips again, andwe come undone together—her walls spasming around me in ecstatic pulses, milking my release as I grunt and still, shooting deep inside her with ropes of hot seed. Breathless, stars dancing in my vision, I pull out just before my knot swells fully, the base throbbing in protest.
Gripping my cock, I massage the sensitive knot, catching my breath as the garden spins slightly. Then I encourage her down—gentle pressure on her shoulders—and she follows without question, dropping to her knees on the frosted grass, that massive skirt pooling around her like a dark throne. She opens her mouth expectantly, tongue darting out in invitation, and I groan at the sight, sliding my length past her lips. She takes over massaging my knot with skilled hands, her touch firm and knowing, while I fuck her mouth with shallow thrusts—growling in relief as the pressure builds again, exploding in a second load that she swallows greedily, her throat working around me.
I pull out with a shuddering sigh, watching her lick her lips clean, that crimson flush still painting her cheeks. This Omega... god, now I get it. Tank's brooding protectiveness, Elias's endless optimism—it's all for her. She's the missing piece we didn't know we needed.
"Stand up," I murmur, helping her to her wobbly feet, pulling her close into my chest. I kiss her then—extremely gently, a feather-light brush of lips that conveys everything words can't. "Thank you," I whisper against her mouth, "for attending when you didn't have to. For choosing me over your dreams tonight."
She's surprised—eyes widening beneath the mask, that shy exterior cracking with a soft, genuine smile.
"Julian, I?—"
A beam of light slices through the darkness, landing square on our faces. We both freeze as a security guard approaches, flashlight in hand, his boots crunching on the frosted path.
"Everything good here?" he asks, voice gruff but professional, eyes narrowing as he takes in our disheveled state.
Rosemarie turns an even deeper red, burying her face against my shoulder, but I smirk, unflappable.
"Yes, just fine. Her shoe strap loosened—thought it might be broken. I was reassuring her I'd buy a new pair if needed. You know how sentimental Omegas get about items from their Alphas."
The guard nods slowly, his nose wiggling as if catching the lingering scent of our sins—musk and slick heavy in the air—but he can't call us out without proof. He mutters something about staying warm and retreats, leaving us in the fairy-lit glow.
I turn back to Rosemarie, smirking wider.
"Ready to go?"
She nods, a slight smirk of her own curving those devastating lips—the bold, badass woman peeking through once more.
This woman very well could be their forever Omega.
CHAPTER 32
Sugar, Sprinkles, And Surprises
~ROSEMARIE~
"Explain to me again why we're doing this."
Julian's voice carries that particular blend of aristocratic disdain and genuine bewilderment that I've come to find unbearably endearing. He's staring at the competition booth in front of us like it personally offended his ancestors—which, knowing Julian's family history, might actually be possible.
"Because it's fun," Elias says, already bouncing on the balls of his feet with the enthusiasm of a golden retriever who just spotted a tennis ball. "And because we're going tocrushthe competition."
