Chapter Eleven

Antoine

The next morning, I woke tucked in the alpha's arms. Little spoon to his big spoon and morning wood tucked in my crack. I lay still, not wanting to wake him, but his hand gliding down to fist my cock told me that was not an issue.

"Are you sore, omega?" he murmured, breath warm on my neck. "I neglected something important last night."

"I don't think you neglected any part of me." Yes, I was sore, although I wouldn't admit it. And I hoped I knew what he referred to.

"Right here." He scraped a tooth along the sensitive skin below my ear. "It's naked."

I shivered. "Yes, I guess it is. What do you propose to do about it?"

"This." He scraped his teeth over the spot while giving my cock a squeeze. "And this."

"Don't you have to be knotted in me to mark?" I asked.

"Not that I've ever heard, but if that is an invitation, don't mind if I do."

I was so slick he had no trouble driving straight inside me. I stretched to accommodate him, breathing hard, my attention split between where he jerked me, where he impaled me, and where he licked my neck in preparation for the marking I wanted so much. It was moving fast, but that was right. My fox recognized him the moment he appeared at my door. And his strokes inside my body drove me quickly toward completion. It seemed all this man had to do was touch me and my balls tightened in anticipation.

He looped his free arm under my leg and brought it higher, opening me to deeper penetration, and that was more than I could handle without spilling all over his hand, sobbing his name.

"Mate." He released my cock and pulled me tighter against him, pouring his cum into me and piercing the side of my throat.

I sagged into him, bound by his knot and the mark. "I could stay in bed like this all day."

"Mmm. Don't you need to work on the painting…oh no!"

His knot subsided, and I rolled to face him. "What's wrong?"

"The truck is being delivered at eight. What time is it?"

I leaned past him to see the clock on the nightstand. "After seven."

"Shoot." He sat up and then leaned down to kiss me. "I'm sorry, omega mine, but I have to be there for the delivery. And I have you to thank for it. If you hadn't helped me out by paying me in advance, I might have lost it." He kissed me again and started for the bathroom.

"Can I come along?" I didn't know if he wanted company for this serious but exciting moment in his life.

"There's nothing I'd like more."

We got dressed and hopped into my car for the drive to his home where the delivery was going to be made. He was so nervous, I felt I should be the one behind the wheel. "Tell me about the truck," I asked to get him talking. "Did you design the outside?"

"It's a wrap," he said. "And the company had someone work with me to design it."

"That sounds interesting."

He told me all about the process and as an artist, although I didn't work much with graphics, I found it fascinating. Colors and fonts and general style notes. "And I wanted it bright but not so bright that it would be garish, you know?"

He'd gone with the Hawaiian theme, tropical greenery and hibiscus flowers, and it sounded amazing. "I can't wait to see it."

It didn't take long to get there, even with a quick stop for a to-go coffee and sausage, egg, and cheese croissant. West insisted he wasn't hungry, but I noticed he managed to do justice to the sandwich. The other models I'd worked with had mentioned how careful they had to be with their diet, but I was starting to think he'd been under a whole other level of pressure. Shifters had a lot of leeway in terms of physical fitness, and that was also something those other models told me. Shifter metabolism made their lives a whole lot easier.

But West spoke as if he hadn't had a slice of bread through his entire career and hadn't really gone back to more normal eating yet. I loved watching him eat but hated thinking of how long he hadn't done enough of it.

We arrived at his house at the same time as the delivery, but as I turned to comment as much, West jerked upright in the seat, the remains of his sandwich crumbling to the floorboards.