My hands move up to the pane of glass before me, and I arch my hips out, knowing I’m just in my underwear, that the shape of it reveals the bottom of my ass, the round globes.
He exhales slowly, and I hear his bones crack slightly.
“You drive me fucking crazy.”
I meet his stare, and he inhales deeply once more, his chest expanding.
“You can have me.”
He growls, and then he’s behind me, his fingers grabbing the fabric of my underwear and tearing it from me. The sting of it against my skin, the groan he gives when he sees my pale ass pushed out toward him.
His hands spread me open, and I feel his cock push inside. The wheeze that leaves me, my sweaty hands sliding down the panes of glass as he shoves his cock into me, is almost too loud to my ears. Everything is swimming—my vision, my body. I’m drowning in him.
His hips slap against mine, and then he rips my shirt off me, his face going into my neck, licking my skin.
“You taste so fucking good. I don’t want you wearing that pendant again.”
I say nothing, even though my heart flutters at his demand. I can’t promise that. I can’t. My scent is a burden I need to bear. It would be easier if it were gone.
His teeth graze up the tendon in my neck, and I arch back, feeling the pull of his cock inside of me.
“Please, Alpha. Please.”
“You want me to fuck you? Right here? Right where anyone could see?”
“Please. Please,” I beg, not caring that someone could look up and make out our bodies writhing against the window.
“You want them to see who owns you?”
“Yes.”
“And who is that?” he asks, his mouth grazing my ear. “Who fucking owns you, Arbor?”
“My alpha.”
“Mm,” he hums and then shifts his hips back and stuffs himself inside of me with a grunt.
I gasp at the feeling of him splitting me in two. It hurts so fucking good. His hands are on me, making me tremble. They touch my cock, pluck at my nipples, before two fingers go into my mouth.
“Suck,” he says, and I do. My tongue twists around his fingers, and he groans, his face buried in my neck as he pistons his hips in and out of me. Like a fucking machine. My machine.
I moan around him, my hole clenching at his length, trying to keep him inside of me. Not that he’s leaving me. His fucks are slow and purposeful while also being rough, rattling my teeth with each thrust.
“More.”
“I’ll give you more when I want to, Omega,” he murmurs, his teeth sinking into my skin. Light, but there. Something flares inside of me—a wish, a hope.
Would he mark me? Would my omega accept it?
His lips pop off, and his hands move into my hair, tilting my head just so. His mouth descends on mine, and he kisses me roughly, his tongue pushing into me, swallowing my desperation.
And then he moves faster, our skin slapping together, the squelch of my slick lubing his way into me, loud and persistent.
When I come, I coat the window in front of me, Glenn swallowing my moans as his own release pulses into my channel. He doesn’t let go, though. He just continues to kiss me, his dick buried inside of my ass, his hands running up and down my chest, touching every part of me.
When our mouths part, he presses his forehead against mine.
“You want to stay?” I ask, breathless.
