“Yeah, how’s that?”
“Dante mentioned the other night that you’re struggling with our scents. And I don’t like that.”
“Wow, okay, you guys share a lot. But I’ve had time to naturally adjust to your scents over the last few days too.” Even with the pack away from the apartment, I’ve spent all my time surrounded by their scents. That’s helping. At least, I tell myself it is.
“He’s my brother. Of course, we shareeverything. Same with Matty.”
And there is no need for any other explanation for what he’s alluding to.
“I won’t have you stressed when I can do something about it. What kind of Alpha would I be if I allow my Omega to suffer?”
“Fake Omega,” I protest, but it sounds flat. So, I clear my throat and repeat it louder. “Fake Omega for a set period.”
“However you want to put it, if you’re stressed, we’re going to be stressed.”
“So, this is us making sure I’m not stressed by you when we go out?” I have to bite my lip to stop the whine when he trails one finger down the front of my PJs. The touch is feather soft, but my body shudders like he’s holding a live wire against my skin.
“Something like that,” he says, amused, his eyes locked on my nipple, until he draws his gaze to mine. “We need to appear to be lost in each other.”
“Lost in each other?”
“Like we’ve been fucking each other with a desperation that is impossible to sate.”
I start breathing through my mouth, falling under the charm of his inappropriate pretty words and sizzling touch.
“We’re strangers,” I protest. And again, I’m horrified by how flat it sounds.
“No, we’re not. We’re engaged, remember?”
“Valentine!” I gasp, when he pushes my legs wider. Although, I think I gasp because of how quickly they snap open and how glad I am they do.
“There’s no better way to start the day than between the legs of a beautiful woman. And since you are mine, like you agreed, I want to taste your cunt.”
“Jesus, you are straight to the point this morning.”
“I’m always straight to the point. Scoot your ass forward and let me lick my pussy.”
“Mypussy.”
“Yeah, but you’re my fiancée, don’t forget.”
“How can I forget? Although you need to remember we agreed to be fake.”
“Semantics.” He shrugs. “Feet here, please.”
He points to the edge of the counter, and my traitorous legs fly into position.
“Unless you don’t want me to help you with your pent-up need? And engaging in sex as often as possible was something you’ve reconsidered.”
“I never saidas often as possible.”
“But you thought it. And now you’re thinking about it more. Tell me no, and I’ll walk away.”
“You better not!” I growl. Fake, of course.
He chuckles. It’s low and absolutely filthy.
The very last of my non-existent fight goes out the window faster than the Roadrunner being chased by Coyote. I’ll figure out the rest later.
