My future bonded gives as fiercely as she gets. Her fingers tangle in my hair, twisting to the point of pain, and I laugh at her tenacity. She holds my head steady, gazing up at her, and says one word.
“No.”
Before I can say anything, she shoves my head between her legs, commanding me to let her finish. I let out the growl I’ve been holding back all night against her core, the vibrations of it sending her hips upwards.
If I were a lesser man, I’d pull away, deny her like she has denied me, but I’m a greedy son of a bitch. I want my name on her lips when she comes on my tongue. My mouth returns to her flushed center and I give her the pleasure she demands from me, sucking her clit.
It only takes a moment before her orgasm rushes into her and she arches skyward. The rush of slick drenching my face and soaking my five o’clock shadow as I lick every drop I can, prolonging her bliss with each pass of my tongue. She slumps in her chair, caressing my check affectionately when I raise my head.
I lean into that touch.
Her scent soothes something deep within me—she is the only omega I could ever want. Being one of her clients proves she deems me worthy of her, and I’ve always felt like a fucking lucky bastard for it. I just need more.
“You arequitea persistent alpha,” she says, barely above a whisper.
I turn to kiss the inside of her palm. “Because I know what I want.”
I love her like this, boneless, her orgasm still clouding her golden brown eyes, a pink blush over her creamy cheeks, and her pussy dripping from my devotion. I’m desperate to know her scent, another reason to make her mine. She wouldn’t need to be on scent blockers. I’d bet a fair amount of money she smells delicious, like those fruit tarts she loves.
My pack will love her.
When my phone buzzes in my pocket, I kiss the inside of her thigh one last time before pulling it out. The message is something about a problem in the kitchen. Fuck. Opening night is never without its issues but damn it, the timing is bullshit.
“Stay here.” I wipe my face with her napkin and finish her glass of wine. I smell like slick, but the variety of food cooked in the kitchen will hide it for long enough to see whatever fuckup demands my attention when I specifically asked not to be disturbed.
“Alright.” Her smile is forced, the kind that doesn’t reach her eyes, and my stomach twists. Perhaps I was too intense in my plans.
I lean down to kiss her, utterly entranced by her beauty, and she nips at my bottom lip, another punishment for delaying her satisfaction. She’s perfection, and when I return, we can have a greater discussion about our future together.
A beautiful, bonded future.
Chapter 3
Madi
Iwait for the door to click and his heavy footsteps to fade before I gather my belongings. It’s better if I leave now. The last thing I need is him trying to convince me to stay and demanding we continue to see each other.
It’s over. There’s always another alpha. Even if I did enjoy having him as a client.
I think we’re in different places in our lives and while our connection is strong…
My words replay in my head. He took it better than expected. As far as client breakups go, this was an easy one—I even got one last orgasm. He’ll understand in time and find an omega who wants to be a happy housewife.
Alric seems like the type of guy who doesn’t need anyone. I’ve never even heard him wanting a pack, and now he’s about to have one and is trying to get me to join it?
Hell, no.
Most alphas race to form packs, since combining finances means a better chance of getting and keeping an omega. Plus itprovides instant community and a family if they’re never lucky enough to find one.
I slide Alric’s credit card out of my wallet and leave it on the satin tablecloth next to my unfinished piece of cake.
He shouldn’t have named the restaurant after me. That’s a grand gesture for a bondmate, not the sugar baby he pays to see once a week. It was a foolish thing for him to do, but that was his choice, and I refuse to feel guilty for it.
Rule number three.Never catch feelings.No matter our connection or how generous a client is with his time and pleasure.
The chatter of the busy restaurant below grows louder as I open the door to peek down the stairs. Clear. I slip out and walk swiftly through the crowded space, careful to avoid the path in view of the kitchens. The hostess looks at me curiously but graciously doesn’t ask questions, only thanking me for the large tip I place in her hand. I’ve blocked Alric’s number and his empty social media account by the time the omega-run car service arrives a minute later.
This is how I end things with every client. I disappear.
