Faith & the Dead End Devils (Sweet Omegaverse, #8)(88)
This was no thin thread—this was like being dipped in the honey sweetness that was Bear, being surrounded by him. And he was wilder and bigger and more eager than I'd even realized, his affection fervent and love fathomless. His pleasure was predatory in its hunger, consuming and greedy, and I laughed in relief at the selfish joy he found in claiming me, knotting me, and biting me. Because I knew the animal inside of him, and its exact match lived in me.
Bear released the bite slowly, soft whimpers and whines running freely from my lips as he lapped at his mark, shivers of syrupy pleasure drawing one release after another from me.
"That's it, omega. You're mine now. Soak my knot. Let me fill your greedy little cunt up," Bear rasped. His hand slid to cup over his mark, his knees unfolding to pin me beneath his body.
I gripped his face and drew it to mine, tasting my blood in the kiss, and Bear rutted on top of me.
"My alpha," I murmured.
He growled once, purred next, and I came, burying the cry into his throat as he joined me, filling me with more of that decadent heat, love clawing through me like a storm.
"I think…I think you don't need to keep, um…oh, god—licking it like that," I said, panting even as I thrust my breast against Bear's tongue.
"Nursing the mark is important," he rumbled.
He'd been tending it for hours already, and I was slightly crazed with the nonstop arousal that it caused. It was like a mini heat, but all for Bear. He'd fed me from the stash of snacks in the room, bathed with me, fucked me twice more, and still, he was tracing a circle on my breast with his tongue.
Just when I thought I might scream—for a break or for his cock, I wasn't sure—he sat up, hair tangled and a bright boyish grin on his face.
"Done for now," he declared.
I huffed and collapsed, flopping an arm over my eyes.
Bear laughed. "What? I can feel you now. I knew when to stop."
My own smile stretched in response, the joy buoyant between us. There was so much of it, just running circles around the bond, that I thought it might suddenly come flooding out of me, illuminating the nest.
"I was a little kid the last time I was this happy," I said without thinking.
Bear purred, settling at my side, bundling me up in his arms. A little sliver of sadness cut through the joy, and the contrast made the moment more beautiful, more precious. I savored that memory, in the woods with Adam, a rare day in childhood when he’d agreed to play the knight to my princess.
"Won't be so long in between from now on," Bear rumbled in my ear, tucking his legs against mine.
I nodded, my chest aching with relief, with missing Adam. The light show in my heart dimmed, still warm and tender, and I breathed in the scent of my alpha, one deep inhale at a time, until I fell asleep.
32. FAITH
I liked the clubhouse as the sun rose. Dawn entered through the front doors of the motel, cutting through the posters on the bar windows to beam rosy stripes of light through the filthy space. I was meant to have one of my men with me at all times, but Bear and Chance were heavy sleepers, and King was usually gone before I woke.
There was broken glass on the sticky floor this morning, and I sidestepped it carefully in my flip-flops, roughly counting the bottles left on tables and planning my attack on the room.
The bar's kitchen was surprisingly tidy, and I suspected the beta girls ran it without much interference from the bikers. I'd learned from Chance how to set up the industrial coffee carafe that was kept in pristine condition, and I'd developed a routine of prepping the coffee and cleaning the bar while everyone else slept.
I was bent down in front of the sink, digging for the giant trash bags, with the carafe whistling, when I was caught.
"You're not supposed to be sneaking around alone."
I jerked up at the warm voice, cracking my head against the sink's edge. I cried out, cupping my head, squeezing my eyes shut as flashes of pain pounded through my skull. In one breath, I knew whose boots were stomping against the cracked tile floor of the kitchen, heady spice and sweet syrup on the air. Rough fingers caught my wrist, and I opened my eyes to find Ghost standing in front of me, scowling.
"I'm not sneaking around," I said, glaring at the startlingly handsome face in front of me, recalling it twisted in agonized desire as he’d knelt on the bathroom floor. I searched for a sense of shame at what I'd done with Chance, but there was none now, just as there'd been none the night it had happened.
Ghost's green eyes flicked over my shoulder to the coffee brewing and then back to mine, the contact startling. His scent was calmer now than it had been in the bathroom, so rich and cloying as he'd watched us, but I was still grateful for the suppressants because even dulled, his pheromones made my mouth water.
"Club ass picks up after us. That's not your job," he said, frowning.
"Don't call them that," I said, my voice too thin.
His eyes narrowed, lips pressing thin but curving up at the corners. "What do you think you're doing, slick?"
My face went hot at the nickname. Ghost was standing too close, and somehow I'd found the sink's edge against my back. He pulled my hand down to my side, and he was tall enough to look over my head simply by looming closer, leaving my nose directly in front of his throat. I told myself not to breathe, but my lungs rebelled, greedily capturing whatever they could.