12. Desperate

Desperate

Titus

Iwatch her black skirt swish as she scurries away and wish that would be the last I see of her. Her presence was like continuously picking a scab. The sight of her and that gnarly scar, a constant reminder of what the Echelon really thinks of us. Only worth the refused, the used and damaged stock.

But now that I know who she is, who her family is . . . it's more than an irritating scab. It's a festering wound. But I will keep trying to make this work for my brothers' sakes. We didn't get this fucking far to let someone like her bring us down.

So, yeah, even though the swish of her skirt and lingering smell of her arousal makes my dick throb, I would be happy to never see her again.

But, fuck if the alpha in me will let that happen.

"Get that packed up." I flick my eyes at Ecker then her uneaten meal as I push myself out of the booth.

Goddamnit— Her scent grows stronger as I storm toward the bathroom. A trail of vanilla and amber and her pussy, the fucking death of me.1

She audibly sighs in relief as she opens the bathroom door. It is ridiculously gratifying to ruin her little moment of respite by slamming my hand on the door.

I don't think she even has time to process what's happening before I shove her inside, forcing my way in after her.

She spins at the sound of the lock clicking into place. Her chest heaves and her eyes are like a wild animal's. It's a small space with one sink and one toilet.

And one terrified omega.

I like her like this, scared and cornered. Especially when her nostrils flare and she catches my scent. I know she wants this as much as I do—I don't. But despite herself, her eyes glow.

She's not in full heat yet. A growl builds in my chest. Yet.

"Bend over the sink. Skirt over your ass." My alpha command comes out coarse and dry. I'm hanging on by one raggedy ass thread.

She scowls, the crease between her brows a deep valley, but her feet move and that's all I care about. When she reaches the sink, her hands grip the bowl and she locks her elbows. It's like she's trying to make it impossible for herself to bend over. Her knuckles whiten at the sound of my belt buckle unclasping, then my zipper. I go slowly just to watch her grip tighten with every set of teeth undone.

If I hold my breath and listen very carefully, I can hear the gallop of her heart. She puts on a good show, but her body will always tell the truth.

I hear it accelerate as I take one step toward her.

Then another.

One more until I'm less than a foot from her backside. I look down at the small curve of her ass and my mind goes foggy. I slap her ass over her skirt as much to pull myself out of the incoming fog as to punish her.

"This isn't what I asked for." I emphasize the point one more time with a swift palm to the other side.

She grits her teeth and inhales sharply through the burn but doesn't break her position.

Maybe she can be taught.

"You think you can do your little alpha bark anytime you want to fuck a wet hole instead of your fist and I'm going to jump to it?" Her indignation is palpable with every word she spits.

I reach over her shoulder and grip her chin, forcing her raging gaze to mine in the mirror above the sink. "You better watch how you speak to your alpha or I'll choose a different wet hole of yours to fuck." She narrows her eyes in a glare. I give her chin a little shake. "Hmm?"

She silently seethes. I decide she isn't going to say anything else, so I take the win and flip her skirt up. I can't help the moan that spills out when I see my handprints reddening her cheeks.

I rub my palm on the marks. Her skin is already warm, but where I hit it, it's on fire. My cock leaks at the feel of the heat. I slip two fingers under the string of her thong and pull it from between her cheeks. She bites her lip to keep herself quiet, but I can still hear the whimper she makes when I drag my fingers up and down, pulling the skimpy fabric tighter to her front.

Where the string meets her pussy, the material is damp and slick. My head rushes. My voice is low and soft. I'm barely aware I'm speaking. "Bend over."

She folds over onto her forearms, and I take my cock out from my undone jeans. Just running my hand over its length makes me feel like I'm about to blow. I need to get inside her.

I lean down to bite the back waistband of her panties then tear them in half. They fall down one of her legs, which are pressed tightly together. She winces when I shove my hand between her thighs and crudely cup her pussy, rubbing my palm back and forth.

I'm so single-mindedly focused as I go into rut, I don't know how I manage to speak. "Legs," I grunt. "Wider."

She spreads her legs obediently. My lungs hold my breath captive until I bury myself inside her with one thrust so vicious, she cries out—not with pleasure.

I'm going to change that.

The thought takes me by surprise as I withdraw halfway to pound back in even harder. Her small body rocks forward as she gasps for air. "It's—too—much, Ti—" I cut her off with another sharp thrust.

"Alpha," I growl. "When I'm fucking you, I'm your alpha above all else. Don't call me anything else when my cock is wrecking this cunt." Her teeth dig into her lip as she glares at me through the mirror. "I'll take a ‘yes, Alpha' now."

She shakes her head with a look of utter disgust. "You're a monster."

My chest erupts with an anger the rut was trying to push down. I shove my hand into her hair and fist the back of her head. Yanking her neck back, I bend forward to speak cheek to cheek while our gazes battle for dominance in the glass.

"You think I want this?" I roar, "This . . . this need—insatiable need—for the one person who is a walking reminder of everything we've suffered? You think it doesn't drive me goddamn insane to constantly crave someone I hate?"

I don't know if it's my admission of reciprocated hatred or simply her heat catching up to her, but her pussy starts fluttering around my cock. Her mouth falls open and a moan so mind-bendingly beautiful comes out.

It resonates with the deepest, most primal parts of me and suddenly I'm hungry for nothing else. Not hatred, not revenge, not punishment. I keep my hand knitted in her hair but move my other hand to her pussy.

I find her swollen clit and she gives me more of what I want. Moans torn from her throat only to land in my chest. Each one correlating with another clench around me.

Pleasure is a physical, tangible thing that seems to consume me. Both our reflections glow with solid gold eyes. The rut strips away everything but the feel of our colliding bodies.

I can't remember why I ever hated her.

I can't get close enough, deep enough—I want her in my skin.

"Oh fuck—Alpha," she whines. "I-I need—I need it, please." My veins ignite with the overwhelming desire to give her everything, anything she wants.

If she asked, I would rip out my own heart and still ask if it's enough.

I untangle from her hair and bury my face in the nook of her neck. She rolls her head to the side to hold me there as I pant like a goddamn dog into her scar. "Oh, please, please, please, Alpha."

I hold her tight, curling my body over hers as I lick up her sweaty neck to suck her earlobe into my mouth. She moans, her eyes rolling back.

"Such a good omega, letting her alpha give her what she needs and asking so nicely." The praise comes naturally, like I want nothing more than to make sure she knows I cherish every little thing she does.

"Will you come just as nicely for your alpha? Come on my cock until I fill you up?" I purr, and she whimpers in assent.

I think she's about to say something, but instead her body starts trembling and wordless sounds of pleasure come from her lips. Her pussy clenches around me in a devastating rhythm until white light seems to burst behind my eyes and I come with a guttural groan.

I cling to her body, wishing I could envelop her, protect her like this at all times. I close my eyes and listen to our heartbeats. Her scent is everywhere. I drink it in and—

"Get off me." She squirms in my arms, and I open my eyes to see hers, suddenly void of all gold. "You goddamn pig—get off!"

Her snarl is a bucket of ice water over me, instantly ripping me out of rut.

I drop my arms and jump back. The remnants of my rut still tingling through my body make my skin feel like it's crawling.

She pushes off the sink and faces me, spitefully shoving down her skirt. Her lip curls in disgust. I decide I don't care for whatever she has to say and reach for the door.

"I bet it feels fucking fantastic knowing you have to use your growl to get me to fuck you."

My hand hovers over the lock as a dry laugh escapes me. "Oh, baby." I tut, slowly turning around. "I only growled once." Her mouth falls open.

She seems frozen as I step up to her. "Everything after that was just you desperate to be a . . . how did you put it?" I mockingly muse and gently tuck a lock of silver hair behind her ear. "A wet hole for some alpha cock."

1. Play "JEKYLL & HIDE – White Panda Remix" by Bishop Briggs, White Panda