23. Shithead Rising

Bramley

Grinning to myself, I slam the tailgate closed, pull the cover back over the bed, then lock my truck as I walk through the pole barn, and head toward the front of the house.

I may not have the first fucking clue when it comes to trying to fix whatever I might have broken between me and Indy, but I think, at the very least, I found the perfect way to break the ice.

Stopping about halfway up the hill, I frown.

What if it’s permanent?

The damage has already been done, a lot of it between my overall behavior and the things I specifically said to her.

No.

I take a few slow steps before I stop again.

I told her I didn’t want her. I said those words to Indy, while trying like hell to make her believe them. I even said I didn’t care about what happened between me, and Nash and Clay. Told her she could just have them because I’m that fucking stupid.

Turning on my heel, I start walking back to the barn.

Roles reversed, I don’t think I could forgive me.

For denying our bond, for making me feel unwanted and unworthy, for insulting my mates and the bonds that were already established with them. I’d a blow a goddamn gasket if I was in Indy’s position, and she would have every right to do that, then completely reject me when she was done.

Indigo Rae would be well within her rights as not just my scent match but as a human being if she told me to fuck myself sideways, then actually take our mates away from me. Why wouldn’t she? She has no reason to stay, not after how shitty I’ve been. None of them do.

I lift my hand and rub my jaw, running my tongue over what’s left of the split lip Nash gave me the last time I saw him.

That has to mean something.

With a grunt, I turn back around and start lumbering toward the house again.

Not just that he was obviously pissed at me, but that he still gave enough of a shit to get that angry, then act on it in a way he hasn’t in a long time.

We fight a lot but it’s never that serious. Not in a permanent kind of way. Nash and I butt heads because of our similarities, and because of the things that make us so different. It’s almost a lose-lose scenario, but I always thought that’s why we worked so well together. Balance. We bring balance to each other where it’s needed, and we challenge each other to think differently, to do things we wouldn’t normally do, and step outside of our self made boxes. If Nash was angry enough to come after me, then try to knock my ass out, it has to mean he still cares enough to try. And sometimes, knocking the sense into me is the only way.

Nodding firmly, I keep on my path toward the house, but almost immediately stop when my stomach pitches at my next thought.

Clayton was mad.

It wasn’t his normal pissed off, the one that still has a playful edge. There wasn’t any sarcasm, no quips about how dumb I was behaving or anything like that. Clay didn’t talk over me with his version of how things were going to go, or how he could change my behavior with some sort of sexual act. There wasn’t even the more serious edge when Clayton has to try a little harder to get through to me, and he hardly played referee when Nash came after me.

Not that I needed him to, or was trying to make that happen when I walked out, but he almost always makes sure there’s a lid on things when it’s all said and done, but he didn’t this time.

He stood between us, made some space, then… Well, fuck. Clayton just stared daggers at me when I pointed to my truck and waited for them to get in. I’m actually almost positive the only words he spoke outside of telling us to calm the hell down was asking Nash if he wanted to drive the box truck—which is weird in itself—and if he remembered to grab the straps for the back.

Indy isn’t the only one I could have done irreparable damage to. After almost twenty goddamn years, I might have pushed my alpha and beta to a point that we can’t come back from.

Turning on my heel, I start marching toward the pole barn, completely convinced my ice breaker isn’t gong to do a damn bit of good, and I should probably just handle it now without letting any of them know. Then I’ll go inside, pack my shit, and head to our cabin upstate. I’ll let them know where I am, but I’ll go, and I won’t come back this time.

My stomach rolls then tightens at that.

I don’t want to do that.

I don’t want to do any of that, nor do I want to be that far away from the three of them again. But I’m such a fucking shithead, I’ll be lucky if none of them send me packing when they see me, anyway.

“What the hell are you doing?”

I cringe at the sound of Indy’s voice, not because it’s her, or that I don’t want to hear her speak despite that sweet, almost melodic accusatory tone she just used. I cringe because the question she just asked means that she’s probably been watching me argue with myself while walking back and forth through the yard like a dumbass.

“Yes, I was watching you go back and forth like an idiot.”

I roll my eyes, annoyed with how strong our bond already is, and slowly turn to face her, regretting it immediately.

Fuck, she looks gorgeous right now.

It’s late afternoon but the sun is already starting to set, the winter hours still hanging on as February flies by. Even while she’s standing there in a gigantic hoodie and flannel pajama pants, with her hood pulled up, and the plaid cuffs shoved into her boots, Indy is a fucking vision, and the soft pinks and yellows of the setting sun highlight every perfect feature of her face.

Which proves that I’m well and truly fucked because I’ve felt like this exactly twice in my thirty-eight fucking years on this planet.

When Carlisle brought Nash into their house for Sunday dinner, the alpha nervous as fuck, and looking like he was ridden hard and put away wet. He’d been hitching from Illinois, catching rides with whoever he could, scraping nickels and dimes together to grab a meal when possible. Nash was a little thinner than he should have been for his size, wearing clothes that must not have belonged to him, or anyone else in the last decade, and his glasses looked like they’d been broken and put back together about a million times.

Up until that point, I’d never given a shit about anyone I’d been with, and I was a big enough dickhead—bigger than I am now—to look at someone and concern myself more with whether or not I thought they’d be a good lay, than literally anything else that could come from speaking to them. I didn’t care about relationships or feelings, and I sure as hell didn’t get the urge to take care of someone or settle down. But the second I saw him, my fucking heart skipped a beat over how beautiful I thought he was, how badly I wanted to take him home with me, and the way my chest ached the first time I saw him smile. I wanted all of those things with him, the relationship, the feelings, the settling down, and the sex. All of it. I wanted Nash, and he’s been mine ever since because I wasn’t going to have it any other way.

The other time?

It was one of the few times I tried hunting before anything happened with the Hardens.

Nash and I were already living together, but it had only been a few weeks, so we were trying to navigate our relationship while getting to know each other. All while my alpha was trying to figure himself out, and deal with adjusting to living somewhere that he wasn’t locked up twenty-three hours a day. Needless to say, it was an interesting time, and we were both clueless.

I felt similarly to the way I do right now, like I was doing all of the wrong things. I was fighting certain parts of being with someone, putting a strain on our relationship because of who I am as a human, basically, and I had no idea what to do next. I felt like I was coming right out of my fucking skin, and Nash knew that, so he took the reins for the first time, because I’m a goddamn control freak on top of everything else. He found our cabin upstate in an ad in the paper, made all of the necessary calls and arrangements, and he decided we were going to go duke it out in the middle of nowhere without any distractions. Problem was, when we got there, someone was squatting in the cabin, and I lost my fucking shit.

The disappointment and frustration I felt coming off of my alpha was enough for me to snap, and I scared that squatter right out of the first thing we ever bought together, then I chased the fucker through the woods. He was fast, and I’m pretty sure he was hopped up on PCP or something, which made him even faster, but I stuck with him the best I could. Then, just as I was convinced, I wasn’t going to get to kill the homeless crackhead trying to ruin the first good thing to ever happen to me, something fucking weird went down.

Someone stepped out from behind a tree, swinging a huge branch like a fucking baseball bat, and damn near took the bastard’s head off with a grand slam kind of power. Then he did it again when the dude dropped to his knees, his skull splitting from the impact, the shot perfect like he was hitting a baseball off a T.

Why are we chasing him?

That was the first thing Clayton ever said to me, and it was after he’d almost beaten the guy to death, but that’s how I knew. That huge fucking smile, his dimples popping on either side, those honey-colored eyes sparkling as he looked at me. Clay helped me take the body back to the cabin, helped Nash and I dispose of it once we made sure he was dead. He was covered in blood and mud, breathing heavily and giggling the entire time we worked, and he seamlessly did all of it, as if he was supposed to be with us. He was obviously unhinged, but he was mine, he was ours, and Nash and I both gave Clayton our bites that same night.

Those were the two times in my life when I just knew how things were supposed to go, I knew without a doubt what was mine, and when I fell in love so fucking fast and hard it made my head spin.

Right now, looking at Indy, I feel that way again.

I am disgustingly in love with that woman, and I want her, scowl and all.

Do I say any of that, though? Do I respond to her in any way that would indicate either of those things?

No.

Of fucking course I don’t.

“Why the hell were you watching me?” I snap as I straighten my spine and narrow my eyes like a moron.

Which Indy must agree with because she rolls those pretty purplish-blue orbs and parks her hands on her hips. “I was in the kitchen and caught sight of something in the yard. You’re pretty fucking hard to miss.”

The dumbass goes unspoken, surprisingly, but the sentiment is there.

“I didn’t plan on staring at you. When I heard your truck, I had every intention of going to go hide in my nest until you left again”—ouch— “but I thought maybe you were in need of medical attention since you seemingly forgot how to walk up a goddamn hill.”

If I wasn’t pissed, I’d laugh at that.

My sweet little scent match is feisty as fuck, and she’s funny on accident, but she’s lambasted me every time we’ve exchanged words, and I’m pretty fucking over it.

Well, I’m over myself and the way I keep reacting to it. I’m sure the ass chewing could end up being some fucked up kind of foreplay later on, and it won’t piss me off nearly as much by then.

Pending I stop saying things like, “Why the fuck would that mean I need medical attention?”

“I don’t know, and I guess, since you didn’t, it just means you’re a lot stupider than I originally thought.”

“Excuse me?” I ask as I take a few steps toward the house. “What did you just say to me?”

“Are you deaf, too?” Indy crosses her arms against her chest and juts her chin out defiantly. “I said I think you’re stupid, Bramley. And, obviously, you can’t listen for shit.”

Ignoring how much I like hearing her say my name, I march toward her, smirking behind my mask as my omega drops her arms and takes a step back.

Not so tough now, sweetheart.

I think I might have won that argument, not that it does me any good since it keeps this goddamn wall between us, but… I frown as I stop short of the steps, my eyes dropping to her hands. She’s balled them into fists, but not because she’s going to hit me. I’m sure she wants to, but Indy has her fists clenched so tight her knuckles are white, and that’s all I can see poking out of the sleeves of her sweatshirt because she’s holding the fabric in some sort of death grip.

One that draws blood and has me feeling like someone just punched me in the junk, and knocked all the air out of my lungs.

She’s afraid.

Indy changed positions and backed up because she’s afraid of me, and I really want to kick my own ass because of it.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I say as I lift my hands, trying to calm her down enough to let me get on the porch. “Asshole or not, I would never do that.”

She nods, swallowing hard in between quick, shallow breaths. “I know.”

“Do you?” Because after everything she’s been through, having an alpha my size come charging toward her, an alpha she still doesn’t know very well heading her way with a chip on his shoulder, it has to be scary as hell. And I hate that I didn’t think about that until it was too late. “You know for sure that I would sooner eat lead than ever lay a finger on you?”

“Yes,” she says as she relaxes some, a curious smile tugging at her full lips. “You’re a shithead, but I know you wouldn’t hurt a woman.”

I shake my head then take a few cautious steps until I’m standing at the bottom of the stairs. “That’s not what I mean.” Because I’ve actually killed women who worked for Harden in one way or another. “I need to hear you say you know I would never hurt you.”

Indy tries like hell to hide her smile, biting her lip in hopes that I don’t see how that makes her feel. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me, Bram.” And just when I think we might be getting somewhere, that I might actually be able to stop being such a dick to my goddamn scent match, her entire expression changes and she looks pissed off again. “You wouldn’t hurt me, but you’d tuck tail and leave me to go through the first three hours of my first natural heat all alone! That hurt pretty damn bad.”

“What the hell are you talking about now?” No one told me Indy went into heat. Not that I’ve been very good about using my phone in any capacity other than tracking, but still. I didn’t get any calls or messages about that, angry or otherwise.

“You are a real piece of work,” Indy huffs as she narrows her pretty eyes. “I went into heat almost as soon as you left, and since you took Nash and Clayton with you, I was completely alone when it hit. I figured you might skip out on something like that since you’ve been such a peach about everything else, but I didn’t think you were cruel enough to take the only two other people who could have helped me. I might not know very much about relationships and being in a pack, but I know it’s real fucking shitty to put someone in a situation like that, especially when they happen to be your scent match!”

“I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about!” I bark as she spins toward the back door. “How the hell was I supposed to know you were going to go into heat when you didn’t even have a clue?”

Indy makes an adorable angry noise, a huff and a scream of frustration combined, then lets the screen door slam in my face as I try to follow her inside.

“I don’t know, but you can’t convince me you would have stayed if you knew, so either way you’re still an asshole!”

She slams the actual door as soon I have the screen open, locking it before she drags a kitchen chair in front of it, securing it under the knob, then flips me the bird through the small, square window. Indy watches me for a moment, satisfied with herself for ripping me a new one and essentially kicking me out, then her brows shoot up and she whips around, running toward the front door one second before I remember we fucking have one.

“Goddamnit, Indy,” I grunt as I crash into the now locked and blocked door with my bad shoulder. “That’s my fucking house, you can’t keep me out of it.”

“Go to hell, Bramley,” she shouts through the window.

I watch as she folds her arms against her chest with a victorious little smirk, then immediately winces, and brings her hand in front of her face. She scowls at the blood in her palm, her eyes darting to mine as they throw daggers, then she disappears from view to most likely fix up her hand.

And I just stand there, stewing on my front porch because this is all my fault.

The tension, the fighting. Her going into heat alone. Getting locked out of my own goddamn house.

Everything going on between me and my mates, it’s all my goddamn fault, and there isn’t any fixing it unless I’m the one doing it.

I back up and look at the front of our house, assessing how I’m going to get inside. I’m not above breaking a window. Nash would lose his shit if I did, but I’d throw one of the rockers on the porch through either of those big ass windows without thinking twice if it was the only way. Which it might be.

Backing up further and off the front steps, I look up at the second floor, and that’s when I know how I’m getting in.

Lumbering my way to the far-left corner in the back, I stand below what is currently our bedroom and hope that Clayton has still been opening the window despite the fact that it’s still cold as fuck at night.

Both Nash and I run hot, and he usually likes it, but only if the window is open so he doesn’t sweat his balls off.

Bingo.

Fucker is open a few inches, so if I can get up there, I can push it the rest of the way and break into our fucking house without actually breaking anything. Since there is no way the trellis would support my weight, and I’m not goddamn Spider-Man, I guess I’m going to have to find an alternate route up and in.

Old as hell tree, it is.

Grunting the entire time, I climb my big ass up the tree next to our bedroom, crawling out onto the longest branch. I hold my breath with each scoot toward the end, the thing creaking and bowing under my almost three hundred pounds. Reaching toward the sill, I stretch as far as I can, my fingers just shy of the ledge, and I know if I want to make this happen, I’m going to have to throw myself at my fucking house, and pray I connect on the first try.

If I don’t, there might not be a second one because it is a tall motherfucker with a serious drop from all the way up here.

Counting to three in my head, I launch myself of the branch, cringing in pain as I smack into the siding, knocking the wind out of me briefly as my vision blurs. I made it, but I caught the ledge with my dominant hand, and dangling here for a few seconds is wreaking havoc on my shoulder.

Once I regain my composure, I dig the toe of my boots into the wood, glad I listened to my mates when they suggested the log cabin style building even though I bitched up a storm at the time. I pull myself up until I can hook my arm through the opening, bracing myself there while I use the other to push the window open all the way. With another internal three count, I propel myself through it, the momentum I thought I needed more than enough, and I send myself directly onto the floor with a thud.

Rolling onto my back, I stare up at the ceiling while I try to catch my breath, thinking about what the best approach might be when it comes to my omega, but, I don’t get the chance.

Indy is already in the door of our bedroom when I finally get to my feet, her eyes wide and searching, a poker from the fireplace raised above her head like a fucking battle axe, and the second she sees me, she turns and books it down the hall.

This is not the approach I planned on taking.

If I’m going to chase my pretty little omega, it’s going to be through the goddamn woods for the fun of it, after I tell her to start running, and you can bet your ass the minute I catch her, I’m fucking her up against the nearest tree. Chasing her through the house because she’s pissed at me and trying to keep me out of our house is not exactly my idea of a good time. Especially when it involved climbing a stupid tree.

“Indy,” I bark as I follow her down the stairs. “Stop fucking running.”

“Eat a dick, Bramley!” She squeals as she nearly bites it on the last step, catching herself on the banister before she takes off toward her room. “Or choke on one, I don’t even care!”

Unable to hide the way that makes me chuckle, I grin when Indy looks over her shoulder to see me gaining on her. She reaches for her bedroom door, faking a left like she’s going inside even though it appears to be busted, my omega darts to the right through the doorway, and that’s when this goes from kind of annoying to obnoxious and kind of fun.

“You stay right there, Bramley Ambrose,” Indy says as she pulls the dining room table in front of her. “Don’t even try coming after me.”

“Or what?” I grab the closest chair and slide it out of my way, stalking my prey slowly while she watches me like a hawk. “What are you going to do to stop me, omega mine?”

She falters at that, something about what I said knocking down part of that wall she built. “I… I’m going to…”

I watch her throat bob as she swallows hard, sliding another chair out of my way when I’m hit with a very strong wave of her scent. “You’re, what?”

“I…” Indy squeezes her thighs together as I round the table, moving counterclockwise to keep distance between us the best she can. “I don’t really know, but I’m willing to find out.”

“Me too.”

I stop following her and grab onto the wooden edge, all but throwing it across the dining room and the second I do, Indy sprints toward the back door, leaps over the chair she propped against it, then zigzags her way toward the living room.

But she’s not getting away this time.

Just before she breeches the doorway, I snag her around the waist, the fireplace poker dropping to the floor with a clang—thank God—and have her pinned to the refrigerator before my omega knows what hit her.

Holding one arm above her head, I look down into Indy’s wide, glassy eyes, her scent the only fucking thing I can smell, her face the only thing I can see. My hips are pinning her in place, the erection I popped about ten minutes ago pressing against her belly, her breasts heaving against my chest as I lean in a little closer and inhale deeply.

So fucking good.

“Caught you, sweetheart,” I grunt as she moves against me, trying to stop the way she keeps perfuming, I have no doubt, but it’s useless.

I know Indy feels the same way I do, that she wants me because we’re a match, that she loves me for the same reason and then some. And I know she’s just as angry as I am over all my bad choices, so giving in to the bond isn’t something my omega is going to allow just yet.

But it is happening, and it’s going down right in this fucking kitchen if I have any kind of say in the matter.

“You’re an asshole,” Indy pants, her eyes bouncing back and forth between mine. “I don’t even know what you’re trying to prove by getting in here and chasing me through, through the house.”

Her words end on a throaty moan as I shove my boot between her feet and kick her legs open, her scent becoming an almost tangible thing that is going to drive me wild until I can bathe in it.

“You’re mine,” I say as I push my nose into her hair, smiling against her skin when I see Nash’s bite, the little scabs healing on top of light purple bruises. “I’m proving that, aren’t I?”

Indy whines as I nuzzle the side of her neck but just as quickly, she shoves at my chest with her free hand and all but growls, “This doesn’t change one single thing about how you’ve been treating me.”

“How I’ve been treating you?” I glare right back at her as soon as I’m making eye contact. “I haven’t done one goddamn thing to?— “

“You left me when I went into heat!”

“I didn’t know!”

Indy pushes against me, trying to put space between us, but instead, pushes her hips against mine and my fucking cock twitches behind my fly. And judging by her expression, my omega felt it.

“Stop that,” she warns before she continues ripping into me. “And you would have known if you’d actually tried spending time with me, or, I don’t know, having a normal conversation with me! We’re scent matches, Bramley, and if you’d accepted that?— “

“I know!” I bark in her face. “I know you’re my match, and I know I’ve done wrong by you. Repeatedly. I have done nothing but fight you and your fucking presence every step of the way, and it makes my stupid chest hurt thinking about how you had to suffer for three fucking hours because of me! Because I wasn’t there!”

“Okay!” Indy huffs in my face. “Why couldn’t you put on your big boy pants and talk to me like this before?”

I push into her harder, my eyes never leaving hers. “Because I was fucking scared, okay? Being an omega in Obsidian Falls is dangerous, and I was scared I was going to lose you just like everyone else did before!”

“You were scared of losing me, so you pushed me away instead?” she shouts as she wiggles a little more. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“I know,” I growl, leaning down until we’re sharing the same air. “All it did was hurt you, and I don’t think I can forgive myself for that!”

Quickly, before I can react, Indy reaches up with her free hand and grabs my mask, pulling it down until it’s sitting around my neck before she uses it to pull me in her face and put us nose to nose.

“You have to,” she growls right back. “Because if I can forgive your dumbass for how stupidly you’ve handled our relationship, then you sure as fuck better do the same. I refuse to spend the rest of my life with you brooding and spoiling me because you feel guilty. I want to spend the rest of my life with you brooding and spoiling me because you love me, and I’m your scent match, and that’s just the way it fucking is.”

Then she’s kissing me.

This once broken omega is kissing the shit out of me, right after whatever the hell just happened, and I can’t tell if I want to keep fighting her to see what else she’ll do when she’s pissed, or finally give in the way she just fucking demanded.

Eh, I’ll go with the latter.

I was hoping to get things moving on the right track and it may not have gone how I planned, it’s happening now, and I guess fighting it isn't an option any longer.

Letting go of her arm, I move my hands down her body, sucking on her lower lip as I slide them under her ass. Indy whines into my mouth as I lift her against me, her fucking drenched core sitting right over my cock, my match rolling her hips enough to gain a moment of friction. Until I’m pushing into her again, Indy’s back flat against the fridge while I kneed the perfect globes of her ass in my hands.

So perfect.

And very distracting because while I dug my fingers into those muscles, my omega wrapped both of her arms around my neck before biting down on my lip hard enough to draw blood.

“Sorry,” she says breathlessly and not the least bit sorry when I growl. “Couldn’t help it. I haven’t seen your entire face before, I needed to make sure it was real.”

I half chuckle, half moan as I pull her away from the appliance we keep rocking, Indy sucking on my lip again, right over where she drew blood. Holding her body tightly against mine while I walk us to the island, my cock twitches again as she slides down over him, and I fucking love the little gasping sound she makes when she feels it.

“Bramley,” she groans as I keep her pussy right where it is. “Please. I hate that I’m begging you when I absolutely believe it should be the other way around, but I need your cock inside me, need to feel your knot lock us in place. I need that so damn bad, and I am not above?— “

“Not yet.” I smile when she huffs at me, and it grows when I hold her with one arm and use the other to clear every fucking thing from the countertop before I set her on top of it. “I need to apologize first.”

God, that frown is cute.

Especially the way her nose scrunches the tiniest bit.

“You’re going to apologize? You, as in Bramley Ambrose, are going to apologize to me before we have sex?”

“You seem pretty damn sure of yourself.” Not that she’s wrong. She’s very right, and she knows it as I grab the bottom of her hoodie, wait for her to lift her arms, then pull it off and start talking directly to her gorgeous tits. “How do you know I’m planning to fuck you at all today?”

Indy gives me the yeah fucking right look, then watches as I hook my fingers in the waistband of her pants and get rid of those and her sopping wet panties in one go.

“I’m not gonna fuck you now, sweetheart.” She opens her mouth to argue, to probably call me every name she can think of, too, but I don’t give her the chance to do anything except hiss between her teeth.

I yank Indy’s ass to the edge of the counter and drop to my knees in front of her, my eyes glued to her face as she watches me closely. My eyes flutter closed as I breathe in her scent, the red poppies so fucking strong I swear I’m going to get a contact buzz from what it does to me.

Pressing a kiss on her pubic bone, right where that absolutely soaked slit starts, I drag my tongue over her hip and down her left thigh, collecting every bit of slick I can then make sure she’s watching when I swallow it down.

Fuck. “Goddamn, honey,” I growl against the inside of her right knee before I lick up toward that hip. “You just became my favorite fucking meal.”

All Indy does is whine.

That’s all Indy can do because as soon as my last word is out, I’m pushing my tongue inside her pussy, and devouring my omega until I’ve eaten my fill.

“Oh my god,” she moans, her body all but folding in half as her thighs slam closed around my head. “Jesus, Bramley, what—oh!”

I pull her clit between my lips as I force her legs open, spreading them wide and hooking her knees over my shoulders. Her hand flies to the back of my head, and when Indy lifts her ass off the counter and starts grinding against my face, it’s everything I can do to not come in my pants like a goddamn teenager.

So, while my omega rides my face, pulling me as close to her pussy as humanly possible, groaning and whining with each stroke of my tongue, each flick and suck of her clit, I do my best to alleviate what I can while slowing down the rest.

Reaching down to the top of my jeans, I quickly unbuckle my belt, get my fly open then shove the denim down to my knees. I give my cock a hard stroke and even harder squeeze, then shed my coat, grab my t-shirt at the collar, and rip the fucker down the middle and right off my body.

“Jesus,” Indy gasps as she lets me breathe a little. “That was really sexy.”

Chuckling into her pussy, I wrap my arms around her thighs, gripping them so they stay open, pull her forward until her cunt is flush against my face.

She tastes so fucking good.

The red poppies are the dominant flavor but just barely because I can absolutely taste what has to be brown sugar and vanilla, and that sends me spinning.

Tongue and teeth, lips, I even use my nose and chin, fucking Indy with my mouth, eating her pussy until her thighs start to shake. I lap up everything she gives me, every drop of her slick, swallowing that sweet, flowery cream, like a madman starved.

And when Indy’s body goes still, when she grinds harder against my face, riding until I feel her start to come on my tongue, that’s when I’m ready to give her what we both really want.

Breaking her hold and successfully putting an end to her orgasm before it began, I roll back on my heels then get to my feet, grinning as my omega pants and cusses me out at the same time.

“You asshole!” She whines. “I was just about to?— “

“Come,” I growl as I grab her hips and pull her ass to the very edge of the counter, slamming my cock inside of her, all the way over my knot at the same time, and I can feel her release pick up right where I left off, tearing through her so hard she damn near folds in half and hits her forehead on my chest.

It doesn’t slow her down, though.

Not when she giggles hard enough to get a chuckle out of me, or when I make her show me that she didn’t hurt herself on my sternum. No, my omega takes all of that in stride then widens her legs, lifting them high on my hips in order to make room for me, then wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me again while demanding I fuck her.

What kind of alpha would I be if I denied my omega, and didn’t give her exactly what she wants?

Pulling almost all the way out, I kiss her hard and slam my cock into her, pushing my knot in on every brutal thrust. Fast, hard, deep, and primal. Fucking my scent match is goddamn euphoric, and every pump of my hips brings me closer to truly making Indy mine.

“Need to bite you, honey,” I grit out, my knot swelling, the muscle as thick as it can be as it sinks inside of her. I keep rocking my hips, though. That little bit of room allows me to, but there really isn’t much, not with how long I’ve been waiting to do this. I’ve been dying to knot my omega, and I’ll keep fucking her through it, but she better be ok with the first time making me a two-pump chump. “Indy, sweetheart, I have to bite you, and I have to come. I need you too fucking bad to?— “

“Yes!” she screams, throwing her back as a second orgasm rockets through her and practically vibrates through my cock all the way to my knot. “Please, yes. Oh fuck, please. Do it, Bramley. Do it while I come all over you.”

Well, that did it.

I all but roar as I bury my teeth in the side of her neck opposite of Nash’s bite.

My jaw tightens and locks as I feel Indy’s pussy milk me, pulling my knot deeper as it locks, too. And when the taste of her blood mixes with her slick, when I feel like I am living and breathing my scent match, that’s when I detonate, filling my omega’s cunt to the brim, my cum filling her so goddamn full that it’ll still be leaking out of her days from now.

My hips jerk several times, her pussy wringing me dry as I release her throat.

“I love you,” she whispers, her arms and legs shaking and twitching around me. “I still think you’re an asshole, but I love you.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, sweetheart.” I lean in and brush my lips against hers, smearing her blood all over her face with a grin. “I still think you’re going to be a pain in the ass for the next sixty years, but I love you, too, and I’m not going to let anything get in the way of that again.”