“Present for your Alpha,” I snap. This time I bark so loud I half expect the people in the next suite to bang against the wall but all that happens is a sweet sigh falls from her lips as she braces.
She whimpers again as my fingers dig deeper into her hips. This perfect Omega even drops down onto one shoulder so she can use her own hands to spread herself wide open.
Tristan twists around to watch as I unzip myself. Her eyes burn over my body, she seizes control of the moment in one fucking look. I barely manage to get my jeans undone before I surge inside in one thrust, giving her all the fucking power I can.
Tristan’s never been quiet in the way she is—talking, flirting, and fucking included. Since the moment we crashed into each other she’s been the same: loud, unapologetically so, and I need to hear and feel it again more than I need air to breathe.
Her pussy clamps around my cock in her own frantic desire. I know enough of her to know that she’s thrown by tonight. She’s using me to reclaim herself as much as I am doing the same to her. But that’s the simplicity of who we are—so fucking perfect and prepared to push each other even when it hurts.
I rut into her so hard and fast that I feel like I’m about to come after a few wicked but insanely amazing moments. But as much as I am, she is too. Her pussy is already milking me with the primal need to be filled.
“Please, please, please,” she groans, her body meeting each slap of mine. Her breathing hitches, and I barely touch her clit and she’s falling apart on my cock dragging me along for the ride. I lean against her, bracing on one arm as I roar my release against the spot my claim will sit.
She falls forward, taking me with her. My cock stays buried in her pussy, my knot pressed against her ass, and she twists around searching for my mouth. I could kiss her for days—the fucking noises she makes are like listening to my favourite song on replay.
“King,” she teases against my mouth, “you can’t tell anyone about us.”
“What?” I growl.
“I just need us for a while. I don’t need the judgement,” she soothes, dragging her face over mine, scenting me up in the process.
“Don’t pull out,” she says, wiggling, trapping me deeper inside her. “We can talk like this.”
“Once I get my fucking breath back. Jesus, killer, you feel fucking right.” I drop my mouth to the back of her neck, biting down against it, rocking into her tight cunt some more.
“Hmmm.” She sways her hips, and I nearly get distracted completely. Sadly, we really do need to talk, and with my cock inside her I won’t. I pull out ignoring her protest before I fall backwards on the bed, pulling her up to lie on my chest.
“We gotta talk about what happened, Tristan. Did you get a look at the people who attacked you?” I ask, trailing my hands up her silky-smooth side. Each time I move my hand it stirs the air between us: bubble-gum and sex.
She rolls up to sit, straddling over my waist, trapping my cock under her pussy.
“Tristan,” I warn her, but she just rolls her eyes.
She pulls my hands up, setting them on her waist. “How did you know I was hurt?”
“Someone sent me a photo, killer.”
“Shit, that’s messed up.”
“You think?” I snap. And she drops down over me again, resting on her elbows so her pouty mouth is hovering over mine.
"Why would someonesend a photo of me to you, King?"
And the way she says my name is like no one’s ever said it right before. I’d bare my soul to hear her say it again.
“Club shit, Tristan,” I admit eventually, swiping my hair off my face.
She takes back my hand after I leave it behind me, putting it back on her body. Snake charming me. “King, what kind of club shit are you talking about?”
“Stuff that wouldn’t be good for you to know. I’m getting you a couple of people.”
I watch her face as she digests what I said.
“You going to be keeping tabs on me?”
“That a problem if I am?”
She reaches up and presses her lips to mine before talking against my mouth. “Pretty sure we know it’s not.”
