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I don’t know what he means until his fist tightens in my hair pulling me closer. And I obey because…
I want to.
Despite everything, I really want to.
Shaking, I reach between my thighs to gather the wetness there and bring my hand between his legs. He spreads his powerful quads, the muscles flexing as I wrap my palm over his flushed cock and leave my essence behind.
Smith gives another soft sound that goes straight to my stupid, battered heart. My chest cramps while my stomach squirms, wanting more.
Scenting my perfume, some of the tension leaves his posture. The fingers in my hair relax slightly. When I look back up at him, he’s someone I recognize again. Dark eyes drop to my lips.
“Fuck, I want your mouth.”
No, he doesn’t. Because he doesn’t like me, and he’ll remember that as soon as he’s done. Plus, I’ve never gone down on anyone before. I’m sure I’ll be terrible my first time.
If it were Cassian—or even Damon—I might be brave enough to go for it. But this is the pack alpha. I’m deathly afraid of being anything less than perfect around him.
My scent darkens with shame. Smith’s thick brows press low again. Before he can ask, I admit, “I don’t know how, Sir.”
For one breathless moment, he’s entirely still. When I dare to glance up at his face ,there’s conflict in his eyes. The calm dark and flashes of wild light, flickering back and forth in his irises.
When he speaks, it’s the double voice that gives me delicious chills. “Would you like to learn?”
The offer is surprisingly kind. And the way his fingertips begin massaging at the roots of my hair reminds me—he may not be close to me, but his Alpha is my Omega’s mate. He means her no harm, even when he’s out of control.
Smith won’t hurt me. Not on purpose.
And he’s giving me a choice.
I nod at them—the man and the beast he’s grappling with—giving myself over to both.
chapter
thirty-two
Smith’s eyes match his scent.
Dark and mysterious. Overpowering to someone else, maybe.
But there must be some part of me that even I didn’t know about. Because when he lets go of his length, leaving it to bob with my panties still wrapped around it, and buries both hands in my hair with dominant force, a moan slips out of me.
“Open your mouth,” the rough, cool voice directs.
I bend forward on my knees, resting my palms against the insides of his thighs for balance. Muscle ticks under my fingertips. My lips part.
He strokes my panties down his length again before slipping them off and tucking them into some side pocket on the overstuffed chair.
“Wider.”
His wildness is defeating his composure, but I’m not afraid. The more his Alpha snaps forward, the more my Omega comes to the surface to soothe him.
I move my hands without thought, caressing the sensitive skin under my fingers with tenderness. Hoping that, maybe, this man isn’t as cruel and cold as he seems. Maybe he’s just never had anyone to give him this.
It isn’t love, because I don’t love him… but it’s soft and gentle. Giving.
When another pained moan scrapes out of his throat, I know I’m right.
No one ever gives him anything.
