9. Cillian

I'm goingto fucking kill my brother.

I already knew what happened; I knew it from the moment I walked through the doors and smelled their intermingled scents. But when he touched my nose and confirmed his fingers were inside of her, I wanted to throttle him.

It's not that I mind sharing with him. I've shared practically everything in my life with Finn, and we knew an Omega would inevitably be another thing we would share. But it's the way he treats her and the situation as a whole.

He doesn't deserve to touch her, and I did pay for exclusivity.

My brother turns and walks away. I'll deal with him later. The club is not the right place for the anger I need to take out on him. Plus, I'm not even sure I can blame him? How can I tell him not to touch the woman who belongs to us not only contractually but has also been bestowed by the universe.

Elena's punishment is a different story.

Her cheeks are flaming red, and I already know I can't truly blame her. She didn't take the suppressants from Declan, and my brother and I are identical in looks and scents. I'm sure it's confusing for her. I'm not even sure if she's allowed herself to realize what we are to her.

It doesn't make my anger subside any further.

"What don't you understand about only me, mo stór?"

She licks her lips and shakes her head. There's a touch of fear lacing its way into her scent, and I hate it. I stroke the side of her face with my knuckles.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I promise her, knowing that its meaning holds more weight from me than it does her. She already belongs to me, and she has no idea what I would do for my Omega. I suppose she belongs to Finn, too, but I don't care. Elena and I had an agreement, and she broke it.

"I'm sorry. He said you weren't coming tonight. I ran out of suppressants, and I was going to my apartment to probably masturbate and cry, and then things just got out of hand. I wanted you. I was waiting for you to get here, and when you didn't, I was leaving the club so I wouldn't break my promise. I understand if you want your money back. I'm sorry." She apologizes way too many fucking times during her rambling, and I hate it. She tries to move around me to get to her apartment, but I step in front of her.

"I don't want my money back. I want to take you to a private room and make you feel better," I tell her.

She blinks her blue eyes at me. "You do?"

"I don't doubt that Finn orchestrated everything that happened. But this is your only warning, Elena. No one else."

"No one else," she repeats, shaking her head.

"Is there a room you prefer upstairs?"

She licks her lips and shrugs. I grab her hand as she rubs her thighs together, the evidence of how wet my brother got her evident on her glistening thighs.

I selfishly need to claim her now, put my own marks on her to make her understand who she truly belongs to. Finn can't give her what I can, and I don't mean sexually. Finn will take her as an Omega. He'll be faithful to her, but he isn't capable of having feelings for her.

I can be the Alpha she truly needs, because God knows when she finds out what Lorcán did, she might not want anything to do with him. I selfishly want her to want me above everyone else. Perhaps I'm not as good at sharing as I originally thought, or maybe it's because she's already become my most valuable possession.

Her fingers interlace with mine as we head to the upper level, where the private rooms are located. I don't really give a fuck which room we use, so I look for the first one that's vacant.

The Royal Flush room is black and gold, like the majority of the club. There's a floor bed with clean linens on it as well as a leather couch in the corner. A small kitchenette sits off to the side with a partially stocked bar.

"A drink?" I ask, and she nods her head. "Sweet?" I ask, and she confirms again, taking a seat on the couch.

There's a mini Malibu that I mix with sprite for her, as I open two small whiskeys and pour them in a glass. When I hand her the cup, her hands shake.

I know my brother wouldn't have touched her without her permission. He's a lot of things, but he isn't that. No, it's clear as day that guilt is festering deep within her.

"Do you like impact play, Elena?" I ask her, still standing in front of her.

"Mm. Maybe. I don't know," she mutters, taking a sip of her drink.

"I said I'd never hurt you, and I mean that. But I could punish you while making this ache go away."

"I'd be completely forgiven after a few spankings?" she questions, her light eyebrows pulling together. "You can't just forgive me like that."

"I've already forgiven you. This would be for you to forgive yourself."

She licks her lips and downs the rest of her drink.

"Okay. I think I'd like to try."

"Stand up," I tell her, and she does so obediently. Her dress is slightly raised, bringing attention to the sheen of her slick coating her thighs.

I take her place on the couch as she stares at me, looking self-conscious.

"Remove your dress and then come here," I instruct her, patting my lap.

Her hands go to her side, and she grabs the zipper, the noise echoing in the room. The tension rises as her soft hands slide the thin straps of her dress over her shoulders, and the silky fabric falls and melts to the floor.

"Come," I command, holding out my hands.

Her lingerie is a strapless, red lace bra and panties that match. Panties that are soaking wet from the arousal my brother coerced out of her.

I help her get situated, her cheek pressed against the leather of the couch, her ass balanced in the air over my lap, and her knees resting on the other side of my thigh.

She seems nervous, and I attempt to soothe her by kneading her thighs, ass, and rubbing her back. Her scent is intoxicating, heavier than I've scented before.

"If you don't like it, we can stop. But after this, you have to forgive yourself, like I have."

She nods her head against the leather seat and my thumb toys with the hem of her panties.

"I like these."

"Thank you."

"I think five will do?" I throw out to gauge her reaction. She nods her head, and I grip her ass cheek. "Need your words, mo stór."

"Yes, that sounds good."

"Good girl. I need you to keep your hands on the couch. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Alpha." She nearly moans the word Alpha, and if my dick wasn't already hard and pressing against her stomach, it would be now.

"So sweet. Why are you being punished, Elena?"

"For letting Finn touch me."

"No, for letting Finn touch you during a time frame I explicitly said you shouldn't touch anyone else but me. If you decide you're interested in my brother, we can re-evaluate once the two weeks are up."

It's a mixture of the truth and a lie. Part of me wishes that she could bring out the soft side of my brother that I haven't seen in years. But more than likely, there won't be enough time to re-evaluate our agreement. She's either coming to live at my home by choice or by force.

As much as I want Elena to choose me, and to have some autonomy over her future, the possessive part of me is winning out as days without her there grow in numbers. I hate that she works here, that other Alphas get to see her in skimpy dresses and get whiffs of her sweet scent—which belongs wholly to me, money or not.

She belongs to me, whether she wants to or not. Though, I would enjoy it a lot more if she willingly came to terms with what's between us.

"No offense, but your brother is an asshole. He just smells like you and looks like you, and I was weak."

"Shh," I rub her back some more, and she seems to calm under my touch.

"Ready?"

"Yes."

The first smack isn't hard, just enough to leave a pink tinge behind and to make her ass jiggle the way that I like.

She moans and squeezes her thighs tighter, her scent going wild over the touch.

"Such a good girl," I tell her before raising my palm and giving her another.

Her nails scrape against the couch as she clenches her fists and makes a hissing noise.

I rub the tender flesh with my thumb. "Are you good with taking the last three?"

"Yes, Alpha," she mewls while nodding her head enthusiastically.

I stick to the same tender spot each time, wanting her to feel this tomorrow. A little reminder of her sins being absolved. It also fills me with delight that every time she sits down, she'll be thinking of me.

The next two are quick, and I already know she's covering my slacks with her slick. I haven't gotten the last pair dry cleaned because I didn't want them smelling what's mine. I'm not sure if I need to toss the four thousand dollar suit or wait for her scent to evaporate from my pants.

Elena thrusts her hips against my lap, and I smirk to myself. Her body is pliant and wanting as I pull my hand back, spanking her ass for the last time. She doesn't even wait for my instruction as she sits up and straddles my lap. Her drenched panties press against the zipper of my pants.

"Thank you," she says, tugging on the hair at my nape and bringing my lips to hers.

Her kiss is desperate, pouring every ounce of gratitude into the way our lips are pressed together and the way her tongue dances against mine.

"Please," she moans into my mouth.

"What do you need?"

"Your knot. Please. Please, Ian."

"Cillian."

"What?" she asks, pulling back, her tongue darting out and licking her lips.

"Ian is a nickname, but my full name is Cillian." I lie about it being a nickname, but I can't have her calling out a different name while I make her come. I need my name on her lips.

Her brows bunch together. "Then why did you introduce yourself as Ian?"

"It was my first time at the club, and I didn't know if using my true identity was a bold choice. But I want you to know my full name. If I'm going to make you come, that's what you should be screaming. Cillian, not Ian."

She thinks it over for a second. "I thought about using a pseudonym too, but I knew I wouldn't answer to anything but my name," she tells me, and I send up a fucking prayer that she doesn't question me any further on this.

"Take out my cock, and I'll give you what you need," I declare, glad the name situation has been quickly resolved.

She scoots to the end of my knees, undoing my belt buckle and lowering the zipper. She looks cautious, but I help her out by raising my ass and sliding my pants and briefs down enough to free my cock.

Elena scoots up, her wet, lace-covered pussy sliding up against my shaft.

I hook my finger around the side of the lace and pull; it rips easily, falling to one side of her hip. She doesn't complain about her desecrated garments, she just grabs my cock and slides me deep into her warm, wet pussy.

"Fuck," I hiss as she slides down my length.

Her pussy grips me like a vise, and she specifically goes down until she reaches my knot. I attempt to buck into her, causing her to rise with me.

"Naughty little Omega," I tease with a smile and lean forward to nuzzle her neck.

I scent him there. We may be identical, but I can tell the specific differences between us.

I lap up her skin, covering up where he touched her. My lips suck against her soft pale flesh, and she moans, finally sliding down all the way to take my knot.

One of my hands tangles in her soft blonde hair as the other grips her ass firmly. I'm like a man possessed as I rut into her from below. My knot swells deep inside of her as a satisfied moan rips out of her.

"Look at you milking my cock. Such a good Omega for your Alpha," I pant, the words between harsh breaths. "I'm going to fill you up, mo stór."

"Yes, come inside of me," she begs, making me break.

My knot swells to its largest size, stretching her cunt. Her nails dig into my neck as her orgasm ripples through her again, and I fill her with my come.

Elena shivers on top of me, my knot locking us together.

I adjust myself so I can take my suit jacket off and wrap it around her shoulders. She shudders and inhales the corner sleeve, all tension leaving her.

"Thank you," she sighs in a soft voice.

"Of course."

"Not just for your jacket. For making me feel better. I really am sorry."

I smack her ass, causing her to jostle on top of me and clench around my knot before I lean in and nuzzle her neck again.

"There's nothing to apologize for."

She sighs, leaning all her weight against me; I cherish the feeling of my knot deep inside of her and the way our scents are intertwined.

Maybe I can really pull this off, maybe she'll choose me and this won't all be for naught. At least, I sure fucking hope so, or else I'm going to have a lifetime's worth of apologizing to do, and there's no way I'm letting her spank my ass.

Instead of tormenting myself with the what-ifs, I hold her in my arms and just hope for the fucking best.