14. Sir

Chapter 14

Sir

Titus

S eventeen nods again, and Ecker shoves me in the shoulder. “Jesus, if you keep asking if she’s got it, she’ll forget by the time you finally let her leave.” Her eyes flick to the ground as red colors her pale cheeks.

“That was the last time,” I grumble back, then give her a parting nod. “Go on then.”

It’s an important message. I didn’t want our conflict resolution proposal to the Cyans written out. With our luck, it would be intercepted, and god knows what would happen instead of the Cyans getting what they rightfully deserve.

So, while Bishop and Sinclair are sleeping off whatever the fuck they did last night, I had Seventeen memorize a message for the Cyan pack.

Going after our omega when she was alone was a bitch-ass move. They might not have self-respect or honor, but we do, and we’re going to settle this bullshit the right way: beating in their pretentious-as-fuck faces in an even fight.

Tomorrow, we will settle the score.

“I still don’t understand what’s not fair about jumping them. They jumped her. Why can’t we do the same?” The anger and injustice in Ecker’s voice hasn’t gotten any lighter since last night.

This situation with Sinclair is eating him up. It takes a lot to hurt him. He can let almost anything roll off his back with a laugh and wink, so when something does get through his cracks, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

When Bishop is hurt, he turns it inward. He claws and picks at the wounds on his heart and stirs up old hate and beliefs. And me?

I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t hurting, for one reason or responsibility or another. I’ve learned to live with the pain.

I know I’m far from a fucking ray of sunshine, but at least I can keep my shit together . . . most of the time.

But Ecker . . . I watch him grip the back of the armchair until his fingers rip into the leather. He keeps staring daggers at Bishop’s closed bedroom door. It’s like he’s waiting for these feelings to pass without ever having to actually face them.

Even I know, as fucked-up as I am, that that’s not how these things work.

“Just go talk to her,” I stress.

He presses his lips into a firm line and shakes his head. “No, it’s her turn to apologize.”

“You say that like you’ve already apologized to her—”

“I have nothing to apologize for!” he erupts then storms off to his room, slamming the door again like a hormonal wreck of a goddamn teenager.

I look between their two closed rooms and sigh, knowing this shit show is going to fall on me to fix.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and groan internally.

Fine .

I’ll go to the gym and if, when I return, these three numb nuts still haven’t figured their shit out, I’ll do something about it.

When I get back, I hear Bishop’s deep groans as soon as I walk up to his door.

“Nope,” I scoff and turn right back around.

I’ll give them until I’m out of the shower, and then , I don’t care if he’s balls deep in omega pussy or not, we’re going to fix this shit.

I stand under the scalding stream of water way longer than necessary. I know I’m stalling, even though it’s futile. It’s not like things are going to magically resolve themselves if I turn a five-minute shower into a ten-minute one.

As I towel off, I try to tell myself that as unpleasant as this arbitrating will be, if things go unresolved, living with the three of them will be even more unpleasant.

After getting dressed, I go straight to Bishop’s room. I don’t even knock—there’s no part of Sinclair I haven’t seen, and I’ve seen Bishop’s cock more times than I can count.

I throw the door open and barge in. Both of them bolt up in bed. Sinclair clutches the sheets to her bare chest like she gives a fuck about modesty, as if the sounds of her getting fucked around the damn clock haven’t been the soundtrack to my last few weeks.

Picking her dress off the floor, I throw it at her. “You two need to get your asses out of bed and smooth things over with your other mate—or did you forget about him?”

Sinclair immediately gets a look of defensiveness, but by Bishop’s calm face, I know he gets it.

“I didn’t do anything wro—”

Bishop cuts her off. “Whether you did or didn’t doesn’t matter. What matters is he’s hurt, and when Ecker’s hurt—”

“He loses his shit,” I finish for him.

I can see pushback in her face. She doesn’t like backing down—for anything. Like us, I’m sure she’s been fighting her whole life, conditioned to make everything a battle. But Bishop squeezes her thigh over the comforter, and she swallows down her resistance.

“Okay, but what am I supposed to apologize for if I didn’t do anything wrong?”

“Well first, you gotta stop saying you didn’t do anything wrong—”

“I was attacked!” She roughly yanks the dress over her head and jumps out of bed. “ Me .” She thrusts a finger at herself.

She stomps toward me, and I notice that her injuries from yesterday look a week old rather than just a day.

“But of course, to you, I’m always the villain. I get the shit beat out of me—which I don’t even blame you guys for, by the way, even though I probably should—and somehow, I’m still the bad guy?” She shoves her finger in my chest, and my muscles spasm with pain, making me jump back and clutch my heart.

“Sorry,” she huffs, only half apologetic.

I look at Bishop, and he just shrugs. Fuck me , I’m really gonna have to do this all on my own .

“Listen, I’m sorry you got hurt. I really am.” Her face flickers with surprise at my genuine tone. “And don’t think for a second that we aren’t going to make those preppy bitches pay for ever laying a hand on you, but right now, it’s not about them. It’s not even about me or him.” I point to myself then Bishop. “It’s about Ecker and you .

“The Vigilance Trial nearly broke him, and then he thought he lost you again. God knows why, but that boy loves you—” Bishop growls in warning. I ignore him and continue, “He was ready to walk through fire to get you back, so then to find out that you were drinking Champagne while he was torturing himself over losing you . . . it was a big fucking slap in the face.”

She’s quiet but has a thoughtful look on her face, like she’s really taking in what I’m saying. Then she responds, “It wasn’t like that.”

“And I’m sure he knows that, but knowing something and feeling it are two very different things, Sin.” It’s Bishop who speaks now. “Especially with E. He’s faked his feelings, made a living making people feel things that weren’t real for so long, that sometimes he doesn’t know how to handle his genuine emotions.”

She tilts her head at him like she’s trying but failing to understand his meaning, so I simplify it. “Look, neither of us are saying you’re in the wrong, but you are the only one who can smooth this over because he’s hanging on by a thread, and you’re what he needs to hold on.”

“Okay.” She nods decisively then walks right past me and out of the room.

Bishop pulls on some pants while I trail behind her. She knocks on Ecker’s door. 1

“What?” he says gruffly from the other side.

I quirk my lips at the fact that, like me, she doesn’t say anything, just opens the door. Before going in, she glances over her shoulder at me with a barely imperceptible nod. Somehow, I know she is telling me to follow her inside. My stomach rocks with uncertain feelings. Nerves, because is this a trick? Another Opulence situation where she just wants to torture me.

But also a surprise, small rush of joy, maybe even pride, because is she trusting me to have her back? My alpha nature is soothed by that prospect.

Ecker slides off the foot of his bed as if he were just sitting there, waiting, thinking, pining . He’s dressed in jeans and a tee, and his boots hit the ground with a soft thud. He runs a hand through his hair with a warning sigh.

“I think you should leave.” He levels Sinclair with a darkened stare. “I am not in a good place right now, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Ecker—” she begins.

“I’m warning you, Sinclair—”

“Just shut up and listen, would you?” She cuts him off and returns his determined gaze. She really hates backing down. Maybe that’s a good thing for once.

He crosses his arms and lifts his brows for her to continue.

“I am sorry I scared you, and I’m sorry it felt like you lost me. But I never left you, you never lost me, and if you need a reminder of that, then that’s what I’m here for.”

“A reminder of what?” He cocks his head, his gaze reading every inch of her face.

“That I’m yours, Ecker.” She steps up to him. I expect her to reach out for him—maybe slap him even, you never know with her—but instead, she lowers to her knees. “I never have and never will stop being yours.”

She clasps her hands behind her back, and his head lulls back. His jaw grinds as he looks down at her and his nostrils flare. The emotion between them is so palpable, I wouldn’t be surprised if it started sparking into visual form like fireworks.

I feel like a voyeur, but at the same time, I feel like they both need me here. Something, someone , outside of their bond to make sure their egos don’t get the best of them. To make sure that things move forward, not backward.

Quietly, I move to the corner of the room to sit in a reading chair. With Sinclair’s back to me, I watch Ecker tilt her chin up. He turns her head side to side as if inspecting a gift.

“So, you want to remind me that you’re mine?” His tone is even and restrained.

She nods, and he quickly clasps her chin, stilling her head. It’s a small dominating move, but knowing the rush of control and exhilaration it would give me makes heat slide down my spine.

“I think the best way for that to happen is for you to do everything I say.” His tone is curt, but I can hear the yearning seeping into it.

“Yes,” she breathes, and he narrows his eyes as if expecting something more. I’m not sure what it could be, but she must because she adds assuredly, “Yes, sir.”

A cold smile tugs the corner of his mouth. “What polite words for such a dirty whore.”

My stomach rocks as his words create a sharp spike in the scent of Sinclair’s arousal and the hands behind her back fidget.

“Does calling you a dirty whore make you wet, Omega?” he drawls with a hint of mockery.

“Yes, sir,” she admits softly. The top of her ass moves like she’s rubbing her thighs together.

“And what if I fuck your throat? I wonder how wet that will make you.” She doesn’t answer his rhetorical question, but I can hear her sharp intake of breath.

He reaches for his belt and unbuckles it. He doesn’t say a word as he slowly pulls the leather through the loops of his jeans.

I wish I could see her face right now. Are her eyes wide and scared or hooded and glassy? Are they dazzling with gold yet, or still just as cold and blue as ice?

“Take your dress off,” he orders. She obeys without protest, pulling it over her head and tossing it on the floor beside her.

With nothing underneath, she’s left completely nude. The fair skin of her back is capped with a hint of pink on her shoulders from the sun yesterday. My cock hardens as my eyes trace the delicate line of her spine to the crease between her cheeks resting on her feet.

Submitting on her knees, she makes a sinful offering.

I sink deeper into the chair, lust clawing at my senses, as he wraps his belt around her neck. He puts the tongue of the buckle through the last hole so that it sits like a collar around her throat but won’t slide any tighter.

Her hands move from behind her back for his waist, but he tuts with a sharp tug on the belt. “I didn’t tell you to move your hands.” She quickly clasps them behind her again. “Or are you just so desperate for cock that you aren’t willing to do exactly as I say?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Now, tongue out and wait for me to give you what you want.”

I hear the faint wet sounds of her opening her mouth and sticking out her tongue, but I can’t see it. Unconsciously, I exhale heavily in frustration, and Ecker’s eyes jump to me as if he forgot I was still here.

He quickly returns his attention back to Sinclair and begins undoing his pants. When he takes his cock out, it’s just as hard as mine. His jaw shifts, grinds back and forth, as he gives himself a few stilted strokes.

He’s trying to resist giving in so soon. I’m sure he wants nothing more than to plunge deep inside her wet and waiting mouth, but Ecker will torture himself as much as he tortures her.

He’s all about the art of the tease.

His breathing deepens, and his teeth notch into his bottom lip as he continues to jerk himself above her outstretched tongue. Her hips wiggle again, and her perfume thickens.

My skin feels hot and itchy as I imagine his view. Her pretty pink tongue glistening right below his cock, his hand sliding up and down. I bet he can feel the heat from it and is just building up the hunger before he gets to envelop himself in it.

Finally, he takes his hand from his cock and puts it on the back of her head before pushing his hips forward and sinking inside her mouth.

“ Mine . . . ” He exhales huskily, and his eyes flutter closed, the muscles of his neck flexing.

He pushes her farther down his length and a throaty groan leaves him as she gags. As if paralyzed with pleasure, he doesn’t move, keeping her there choking on his cock while he revels in the hot feel of her mouth surrounding every inch.

Suddenly, he yanks her head back. She gets in one big gasp for air before he’s shoving her back on his cock. This time, he doesn’t go slow. He fists her hair and pistons his hips. One of his hands remains on the belt, keeping it taut. Her fingers whiten behind her back as she clutches them tighter and tighter.

“This is what it’s like to be mine, Omega,” he grinds out. “Savage, out of control . . . desperate .”

She moans hungrily despite the assault, and heat sinks into my stomach.

“You make me so fucking crazy.” He pants between thrusts.

Sweat drips down my back and my chest feels like an inferno as I watch the silky strands of her hair knit between his fists and listen to the wet, choking sounds she makes. It makes me fucking crazy.

“When I feed you my cum, you’re gonna swallow. All of it. You hear me, you dirty fucking slut?” She moans and nods as best as she can.

Blush crawls up his throat and he sputters, “F-F- Fuck! ” He drops the belt and both hands clutch her head as he hits the deepest part of her throat and comes.

When he pulls her off, she’s breathing heavily. Not only can I hear it, but I can tell by the rise and fall of her shoulders.

“Show me you can follow instructions,” he says, and she must stick out her empty tongue because he pats her cheek and mutters, pleased, “That’s a good girl.”

His eyes are still green, and I don’t know how he’s resisting going into rut. I’m having a hard enough time of it just sitting in this fucking chair.

“Let’s see how wet choking on cock made our little slut.”

My chest soars at the use of “ our ,” and I don’t even try to fight it. It feels too good.

“Show me,” Ecker orders.

She finally unclasps her hands and slips one between her thighs. When she withdraws it, I can’t help but move to the side to see.

She holds up two fingers, shiny with slick, and my stomach drops with need, my tongue thirsting for a taste.

Ecker’s smirk is devious as he tells her to make them even wetter. My hands ball into fists as I watch her arm move back and forth and hear the wet sounds of her fingers in her pussy.

“You promised to do everything I said,” he reminds her when she takes them out again, a wickedness flashes in his eyes.

“I did. And I will.” Desire is prominent in her voice, but there’s still a hint of trepidation.

“Yes, you will,” he says in a chilling tone, then he sits on the bed and stretches out one booted foot. “I want you to finger your ass and polish my boot.”

Quietly, confused, she asks, “What—”

“‘Yes, sir’ is the only thing I want to hear out of your mouth,” he interrupts curtly, then emphasizes with a pointed look at her then his shoe. “ Polish my boot.”

There’s a weighted moment while she processes, and then she says breathily, “ Yes , sir .”

He picks back up the dangling end of the belt then leisurely— arrogantly— leans back to rest the other hand on the mattress.

Heat crawls up my chest and neck as she spreads her knees and scoots forward to hover over his leather boot. My body feels like it’s overheating and my lungs burn, flames streaking in my veins.

She rolls her pelvis forward to drag her dripping cunt over the toe of his boot. I will my heart to stop pounding so damn loud so I can hear the soft, breathy moans she makes as she rocks tentatively back and forth. But it’s a damn near impossible task when she leans forward even more so that she can slide her slick-coated fingers behind her.

“ Jesus . . . ” I can’t help but exhale as they disappear into her ass.

She moans softly and wiggles back, testing. At first, her movements are slightly awkward as she tries to acclimate to the new sensations and position. But after a few moments, she seems to slip into the pleasure of it and rolls her hips in seamless tandem with her fingers.

She grinds unabashedly for more, mewls and whimpers spilling uninhibited. It’s a beautiful, wild sight.

And the more she arches her back, the more of her glistening pussy I can see. Her lips are puffy and pink, pearled with arousal. Her scent has filled the room, invaded my lungs, my goddamn bloodstream.

I swear I can taste her on the back of my tongue. The salty, musky, and fucking divine flavor like a ghost here to torture me. Seeing and tasting something I can’t touch. My body is burning up.

Maybe I am in hell.

But I don’t think hell is supposed to feel this good.

“Such a dirty little thing,” Ecker muses, pulling me from my tortured spiral. “Only a whore would get off on someone’s shoe. And while finger fucking your own ass, no less.” He chuckles with dark delight.

He tugs on the belt to make her look up at him. “You really would do anything I asked, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” There’s desperation in her voice.

“Then make yourself come on my boot.”

She removes her fingers from her back hole and leans forward onto both palms, so she can grind harder and more accurately into the leather. Her throaty moans become harried, and she rocks more intently.

I watch a bead of sweat drip down her spine and the slope of her back with the fiercest urge to lick it up.

“Oh, god, oh, god . . .” She gasps. “Oh, fuck, fuck . . . fuck— ” she cries and trembles. Her thighs shake as she comes and bears down on his foot.

The sound and scent of her orgasm must have been too much for even Ecker’s superior control. He rips her to her feet before throwing her on the bed and growls, “ Mine .”

His eyes meet mine. They’re burning gold.

1. “Why Don’t You” by Thorgan