Lola & the Millionaires: Part One (Sweet Omegaverse #2)(4)

“Here,” he said, holding out his free hand.

I grinned and turned, hooking my panties over his finger and watching him tuck them into his back pocket.

“For safekeeping,” he said, smile big and close to laughing.

“Mhm, obviously,” I said, tugging him closer and nipping at his lips, softening the bite with a quick lick of my tongue. I wasn’t normally this into kissing, but most men didn’t have mouths so obviously made for the act. If it weren’t out of my routine, I would’ve begged for this man to get on his knees for me.

“I meant what I said, about not expecting this,” he murmured, nose brushing against mine as he crowded me against the counter.

“Will you be offended if I admit I came here pretty much for this reason?” I asked, glancing at him from under my lashes. What did he want me to be? Shy and innocent? Or a vixen?

“Me specifically?” he asked, stilling and frowning.

What? I laughed and frowned at him. “Why would I be here for you specifically? I mean, after you crashed into me, yeah, you specifically.”

He relaxed and shook his head, smile returning. “Right. Dumb question. Come here.”

Hmm, maybe the fancy suit wasn’t from the finance district. Maybe my handsome mark for the evening was one of those low-key famous people? Either way, I was less interested in that than the fact that I was pretty sure his lips had extra muscles for how perfectly they clasped and took control of mine. The awkward puzzle of his question passed with one kiss after another until I was panting and clinging to him.

“You wet for me, gorgeous?” he whispered, and I shivered at the rougher edge of his tone as he grew more aroused.

“Find out for yourself,” I answered, desperate to be touched.

He hummed, smiling into the kiss and holding me with one hand at the center of my back as the other delved under my skirt, brushing like feathers against the inside of my thighs. Higher and higher his touch skimmed, refusing to be hurried even as I squirmed closer. The second he touched my sex, we both moaned, his fingers sliding through generous moisture and my hips bucking into the touch as it echoed up into my heart, making it thump twice as fast.

“More,” I moaned, hands stroking over his chest, tugging the crisp gray shirt loose from his pants, fumbling at his belt and then back up to his collar to undo the top buttons.

“Christ, you’re soaked. Lemme taste,” he hissed, hand drawing away and up to his lips.

I watched, breathless, as his tongue flicked out to taste the shining slick I’d left on his fingers. His thick eyelashes fluttered and he groaned, sucking hard on his own digits until I tugged his hand away and replaced his fingers with my tongue, fucking it into his mouth and whining at our shared taste.

His hand immediately returned to my pussy, stroking and dipping inside as I blindly tore at his buttons. Even the stretch of his fingers was good, and I rocked into the intrusion, encouraging him deeper.

“Condom.”

“Counter.”

“Put it on,” I said, laughing.

We leaned away from each other, both of us grinning, and my heart clenched. Why was this guy making me feel more than the others? Making me giddy and laugh, and more than just helping me scratch an itch that was less about desire than mastery?

“This first,” he said, sliding one finger deep inside of me, hissing as I clenched around him. I shivered and tried not to collapse completely as his thumb brushed against my clit, making me stiffen and cry out. “Yes, that’s it.”

I whined and shuddered as he repeated the careful touch, the sensation both sharp and gentle, the beginning every bit as delirious as the coming finale.

“Enough,” I gasped.

“Not nearly, gorgeous. Come on, you like that?”

It was so simple, but I loved it, my body rolling as it had on the dance floor as he pumped one finger, and then two, all while slowly rolling my clit under his thumb. His other hand stroked up from my hip to my breast, working it gently through the fabric, gripping briefly and testing my cry as he squeezed tighter.

“Yes!”

I was so close and I wanted to draw some of the reins back. I leaned forward, pushing aside the collar of his shirt to suck on his throat. And then I saw it, a set of shining crescent scars facing another. I froze just as he crooked his fingers inside of me, drawing out a stuttering and surprising orgasm that left me crumpling forward into him, his arm curling around my back and drawing me to his chest.

“You want our mark, don’t you, beta bitch? Yeah, you want to pretend you’re good enough to belong to an alpha. Except you’re not, and you know that, don’t you?”

“Stop! Stop, stop. Let me go.” I gasped and pushed at his chest, his hands immediately retreating and then grasping my shoulders. Ice shot through me like knife wounds as I fought my way free from the beta’s grasp.

“Hey. Hey, what’s wrong? I’m sorry! What happened?”

“Nothing,” I said, trying to catch my breath and knowing I wouldn’t find it. Not while he had his hands on me. Not while I was stuck in this shitty little bathroom with him. “Let me go.”

I twisted and squirmed, my eyes fixed to that mark on his throat as I pulled myself free of his hold. He stilled, and I glanced up into his eyes briefly, and then immediately back onto the scar. The bonding mark. The bonding mark only an alpha could give. His hand reached up to cover the scar as his eyes widened.