I blink. “Excuse me?”
“It’s a shit deal because it isn’t mine,” he says. “Harvey had someone in my office send it over. I’ve been fighting with him for the last three hours because of it. I hadn’t had a chance to talk to you yet. I’m in the middle of drafting a new plea.”
“You are?”
He motions toward the paper on his desk. “Misdemeanor possession charge. No jail time. A hefty fine and community service working with you on omega rights cases.”
My anger deflates, and I can almost feel tears pricking at my eyes, making them burn. “Why?”
He makes a motion with his hands and shakes his head. “Because I’m the District Attorney, not Harvey, and it’s a bullshit law. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about those lately.”
I inch closer to him, leaning one of my hips on the edge of the desk. His scent wraps around me, and though it’s a little bitter from being stressed and frustrated, it still soothes me. He eyes me warily, as if he’s not entirely convinced I’m not going to grab the letter opener and stab him.
“What about them?” I ask quietly.
His eyes lift to mine, and his face is serious. I have the strongest urge to reach out and smooth the lines between his eyebrows with my fingers.
“It occurred to me the other day that I don’t really know any omegas. And I’d never stopped to really think about what the omega protection laws actually look like in practice,” he says earnestly.
“How do you think they look in practice?” I shift so that I’m fully sitting on the edge of his desk, one of my legs against his.
“Control,” he says, “wrapped up in a pretty bow so no one has to look at it too closely.” He wraps a hand around my calf, tugging on one of my legs until he’s able to press his body between them. The tension in the room is thickening, and I can feel fire building beneath my skin.
“That isn’t going to make you very popular with the big alphas that like to donate to campaigns,” I whisper.
“Fuck ‘em. There are other ways to raise campaign funds.”
My mouth crashes into his, and I dig my fingers into his hair with a moan against his lips.
“Ava.” He groans my name, grabbing my hips and pulling me firmly into his lap. I can feel him hard beneath me, and I grind against his length. I feel like I can’t get enough contact.
I undo the buttons on his shirt, pushing the lapels wide so I can press my palms flat against the dusting of chest hair. It isn’t enough. Tiny, needy mews escape from my mouth as I kiss along his jaw, his lips, his throat.
He moans roughly, more of a growl than anything. He stands, supporting my ass with his hands so I can wrap my legs around his waist. I know my heels are digging into him, but previous experience tells me that Mark likes that. He carries me to the small couch between two tall mahogany bookshelves along one wall.
He drops me unceremoniously onto it, and the look he gives me is direction enough. I untuck and unbutton my shirt before tugging up my skirt around my hips, revealing my sheer black underwear set and heels. Mark makes a sound of approval and pauses undressing to look down at me. His gaze is almost… reverent. Like I’m the most beautiful piece of art he’s ever seen. It makes me feel sexy and cherished.
I reach for him, guiding his cock to my lips. His scent, his taste—it overwhelms my senses until I can’t think of anything but him. My omega is fully in control, and my head is blissfully quiet.
Chapter Eighteen
Mark
Something is different about her. I can’t quite put my finger on what, but I’m not naïve enough to think that a couple of offhanded sentences about my expanding views on omega rights just magically made her change. If I were a better man, I’d pull back and force her to talk to me. But just as I think that, she hollows out her cheeks around my cock, and I forget everything.
I bury my hands into her hair, working myself deeper. She feels so good that it takes effort to not completely lose myself to the rut and fuck her face. Which, don’t get me wrong, has a time and place, and I’m certainly not above it. But I don’t want her to leave my office with her makeup completely destroyed. That’s more of a bedroom activity.
Finally, I tugher head away, and she makes the cutest little squeak of protest. “Don’t worry, I’m not taking it away for good,” I say with a chuckle.
I sit beside her on the couch, pulling her into my lap with her back to my chest. I love picking her up and just moving her where I want her. It pleases some part of my alpha side.
I snake a hand between her thighs, testing that she’s wet enough for me. She’s positively drenched, so much so that there’s almost certainly a wet spot on my cushion. “Is all that for me, gorgeous?” I growl in her ear, letting my teeth graze along the outer rim.
Her whole body shivers. “Please, Mark, don’t tease. I need you inside me,” she says with a gasp.
Who am I to deny such a sweet request?
I lift one of her thighs, hooking my arm under her knee as my hand guides my cock to her entrance. I drag the head through her slick folds, absolutely feral for the sensation. Is this what it’s like to play with an omega’s slick?
