"I just watched my father walk out of a boardroom without making a sound. That concerns me more than any threat he'sever made out loud." I don't pull my hand back. "And I haven't touched my Omega in five days. The bond is making me pay for it."
"Making us both pay for it." His grip tightens. "My marks haven't stopped aching since the spare room."
"Mine either."
The sweetness in his scent is starting to warm up again, a soft flush climbing up his neck when my own scent responds. It isn't forgiveness, but his hand is in mine and the anger has quieted enough that I can feel something else underneath it.
Mattaniah
Threedayssincetheboard voted Richard out and the victory sits in the apartment with nowhere to go. Amos has been on the phone with lawyers and PR consultants since Thursday while Dominic reviews transition documents at the kitchen table. The apartment smells like takeout containers and stale coffee.
My bond marks haven’t stopped aching.
The spiral starts around ten in the morning while I'm pretending to read on the couch. The word firefly triggers it. Dominic said it this morning when he handed me coffee, casual and automatic. My brain latches onto the word and pulls the thread. When did he start calling me that? Before or after the scheme was in motion? Was the nickname strategy or instinct? Did he workshop it with Amos, the two of them sitting in their shared bed discussing the best way to make the Omega feel special enough to serve their purposes?
The thread keeps pulling. Every tender moment from the past month looks different with the scheme behind it. The first time he put his hand on my neck in the kitchen. Was that protection or positioning? The night Amos brought me to Dominic's room during the spike. Was that care or calculation?
Was any of it real before they decided it was real? The timing matters because I gave them everything I had, and some of it was given to a performance I didn't know I was watching.
My hands are shaking. The book has slipped to the floor and my breathing has gone shallow and rapid. My scent is shifting, the coconut curdling into something sour and bitter that I can smell on my own skin.
Dominic looks up from the kitchen table. Through the bond I feel his attention shift, the tactical focus giving way to something sharper.
I need out of my head. I need to stop thinking. The only thing that has ever reliably shut my brain down is being fucked so thoroughly that there's no room left for thoughts.
"Dominic." My voice comes out rougher than I expect. He's already standing and reading my face, his body moving toward me before I've finished forming the request. "I need you to help me get out of my head."
He stops three feet from the couch. His eyes search my face.
"Are you sure?" His voice is careful. "You've been spiraling all morning."
"I'm sure." I stand from the couch and close the distance between us. "Please. I need to not think."
Amos appears in the hallway with his phone still in his hand. He takes one look and sets the phone on the counter.
"Bedroom?" Amos asks Dominic.
"Bedroom." Dominic's hand finds the back of my neck and the pressure makes my knees soften. "Come on."
The bedroom still has the nest, rebuilt after the heat, the fabrics laundered but carrying ghost scent that my nose fills in from memory. Dominic walks me to the bed and turns me to face him, his hands on my hips, his eyes locked on mine.
"What do you need?" His voice drops into the register that makes my spine straighten. "Tell me."
"I need you to take over. Make it rough and loud enough that I can't hear the voice in my head telling me I was a pawn." My fingers find his shirt and grip. "I need you to be the Alpha right now, not the mate who's been sitting in chairs and not touching me."
Something shifts in his expression. The careful restraint drops away and the predator surfaces. His scent sharpens, the leather thickening with smoke until the air around him tastes like a warning.
He strips my shirt over my head with one pull. His mouth finds my throat and his teeth scrape the skin beside my bond mark. The sensation sparks through the connection and makes Amos inhale sharply from behind me.
"On your knees. Hands behind your back."
I drop. The carpet is rough against my knees and my hands clasp behind my back. Dominic stands over me unbuckling his belt. Amos moves behind me, his hands resting on my shoulders.His pine scent is close and grounding, steady where Dominic's runs hot.
Dominic feeds his cock past my lips and my brain goes quiet. My jaw opens wide, my tongue working the underside. His hand fists in my hair and pulls my head back at the angle he wants.
"That's it." His hips rock forward, pushing deeper. "Take all of it."
I take it. His cock hits the back of my throat and I gag, his hand tightening in my hair. The gag reflex triggers tears that blur my vision. Behind me Amos' hands strip my pants down my thighs and his fingers slide through the slick that's already gathered.
