I scrunch my nose at him, annoyed and aching.
I shouldn’t be too mad. He’s doing what he thinks is right. After Blaze pointed out how uneven my attention has been, Viper’s been giving me space. Letting the Pack dynamics settle, trying to help us heal.
Selfless, loyal jerk.
Sure, I was the one who avoided him first. I know that, but my Omega is throwing a full-blown tantrum over the lack of attention.
That’s as much introspection as I get before Blaze tosses me across the mat like an Omega-shaped training dummy.
When it comes down to it, I’ll let him throw me around as much as he needs. Either until he works through his frustration and leftover betrayal, or until my body gives out. Whichever comes first.
"Don't let him overwhelm you, remember he's a rut-damn cockwomble."
A smile breaks free. It's the little familiar things that make me feel like I've come home.
Despite all the changes, Knoxstillcalls Blaze a cockwomble.
"Again!" Knox shouts.
I take a deep breath and square up with Blaze.
He used to take it easy on me, pulling punches, slapping my thighs with playful reminders to move my feet, sometimes flicking me on the nose if I left my face unguarded. He’d even leave openings so I could practice my counters.
Not anymore.
Sure, he adjusts for my lower skill level by dialing back his ridiculous Alpha speed and strength, but that’s where the mercy ends. He just knocks me down over and over with ruthless precision and that smug grin that practically screams he’s enjoying every second of it.
“Anything, Halley?” Shade calls again, checking in on my status.
Nope. Still no sign of my O-space and therefore, this torment must continue.
Knox inclines his head at Blaze. “Push her harder, Sergeant.”
There’s a beat, a loaded pause, where something passes between the two soldiers, but I don’t have time to catch it.
Blaze moves preternaturally fast.
He feints left, and I track the motion too slow. His fingers brush against my chest, a barely there graze over my breasts, and my breath catches before I can stop it. That split-second hesitation is all he needs.
He slams me onto the mat and flips me onto my stomach. Suddenly, I’m pinned.
His weight crashes down, stealing the air from my lungs.
I kick at him wildly, nothing but panic and muscle memory. It’s useless. He’s not even trying, just lying there, heavy and smug, because he knows I’ll burn myself out trying to fight him off and all he has to do is wait for my submission.
I can’t get enough air and spots dance at the edge of my vision as I twist beneath him. My body’s screaming and my pride is in tatters.
Then he grinds his hips against my ass. He’s rock hard.
I make a noise that isn’t a word. It’s instinctive and needy and utterly shameful. If that’s not enough to have me wanting the ground to swallow me up, I tilt my neck, exposing my throat to the Alpha in a classic sign of submission.
“You look so pretty submitting to me,” he purrs, voice dragging down to my throbbing core. “Do you like this position?”
My Alpha, no matter how fracked in the head he is, has me pinned beneath him in a mating position. His body is all heat and weight and dominance, and every nerve in my body lights up like it’s been waiting for this.
My pussy throbs in gratitude, soaking my shorts like I’m grateful to be restrained.
I make the sound again, softer, wrecked.
