Page 23 of Bonds and Beasts

Bello

Ishould sleep in one of my packmates’ rooms, or on the couch, or in the car. What I should not do is stay right here, standing directly outside her door. My door. The room I’ve been staying in since I got here. I should not lean close the moment I hear Dean say, “Fuck, beautiful.” And I definitely should not unbutton my trousers the second her little omega whines of need and pleasure start.

But I do.

The wet sounds of fingers sliding through slick, mouths on her clit, and the steady pounding pleasure of cocks thrusting into what I know has to be a perfect pussy pushes me straight to my basest need. I pull out my cock and drag my hand along the shaft from my already swelling knot all the way to the leaking tip and back again.

As she whimpers delicately inside the room, I picture her on her knees between me and the heavy dark wood door. Mouth open as I feed her my shaft, messy red hair everywhere, her eyes locked on mine.

Then on the bed, face down, ass up, knees spread, pussy slick and needy as I shove inside, filling her, letting her squeeze me tight. Inside the room, she cries out, and I spill hard all over my hand.

Fuck. I come faster and harder than I ever have. My forehead presses against the warm wood of the door while her satiated, aroused, perfectly fuckable scent pours through the seams and sinks straight into my alpha. It calls to me. Begs me to open the door. To join them. To take.

The image of her frightened face on the bed when I was in rut flashes through my mind. It’s the splash of cold water my cum-drenched senses require. She doesn’t need me. Her scent has settled from the wild heat spike into something euphoric and satisfied. She already has two other alphas who haven’t scared the shit out of her.

But as lead alpha, there’s no way I can make it across the hall. I can’t have that many walls between us. I need to know she’s safe. So after a quick trip to the hall bathroom to wash my shame down the sink, I grab a blanket and pillow from Dean’s room, throw them on the floor outside her door, and resign myself to the most uncomfortable, frustrated night of my life.

Adison

Iwake feeling clear. The agony at my nerve endings from the touch deprivation is nearly gone. It's only a light tingling now. The edges of my vision are sharp. I hold my hand out in front of me. The shaking has stopped.

It's not hard to understand why after the heat spike Easton and Dean helped me through. Now they're on either side of me as I lie on my back. Easton is curled around me, one hand firmly on my stomach. His glasses rest on the side table, and in sleep he looks less serious, more carefree. On my other side Dean has one hand on my arm, but he's in a strange position, mouth half open, one leg hanging off the bed. A tiny laugh slips out and I gasp.

My voice is back. I haven't had my voice in months. My hand flies to my lips. I'm so happy I could cry. I blink back the tears, not wanting to wake the sleeping alphas. Instead I carefully disentangle myself from Easton, slip my hand from Dean's, and slide off the bed. I need to do something. To laugh, to cry, to shout at nothing. I need to use my voice. I slip on my underwear and shirt.

When I open the door to the hall I nearly trip, but catch myself just in time. A form lies prone right outside. At first, I think it must be a dead animal, but then the smoky scent of Bello swirls around me. He shifts and opens his eyes, finding mine with unerring accuracy.

He sits up fast. I nearly step back but force myself to hold my ground.

"Adison, do you need something?" He glances behind me at the sleeping alphas. "I can wake one of them. Or I can bring you something from the kitchens if you're hungry." His gaze returns to mine. I still see the upset, the anger, and the contempt, but more emotions lie beneath those now. They look a lot like guilt and yearning. I couldn’t see the pleading quality in his eyes through the touch deprivation fog. It was too hard to focus on anything beyond my own needs then. It feels like a dream.

I carefully lower myself to my knees beside him so we're at eye level. His eyes widen, but he doesn't pull away. I take that as a good sign and gather the courage to ask, "Will you come to bed?"

His face flashes with shock. This is the first time I've spoken to any of them, really the first time I've spoken at all since I presented as an omega. My throat feels raw and my voice sounds like a raspy wheeze to my ears, but it’s there. I’m so relieved.

He stares for a long moment. In that silence, I wonder if the guilt and yearning were only in my head, and if this alpha, my mate, truly does hate me.

A muscle ticks in his jaw before his hard expression collapses. He hangs his head, no longer looking at me.

"I don’t want to make you uncomfortable," he admits hoarsely. I stare at the top of his black hair.

I reach forward and grasp his chin, gently guiding him to look at me. "Why would you make me uncomfortable?"

He flinches like I struck him. "The rut." My heart plummets, but then he continues. "I scared you." The words sound like they were scraped from somewhere dark inside him, where he believes what he did is unforgivable.

I tilt my head, brow furrowed. "I caused it. I thought you were angry with me," I admit quietly. He opens his mouth as if to speak, then closes it and reaches for me slowly instead.

When I don't pull away, he draws me in, wraps his arms around me, and scent-marks along my shoulder and neck. My heart pounds so hard I'm surprised he can't feel it. I let out a low whine of need, quiet so I don't wake the others. A rumbling purr starts in his chest, and I melt into his lap.

"My rut was not your fault. I should have had better control," he insists.

I shake my head. "It's not you. Anyone not on rut blockers would have reacted the same, trust me. I know."

His muscles go rigid at that. "Adison, has anyone ever—"

"No," I cut him off. "No, but something did happen. I was unharmed, but it was bad. I'd rather not talk about it tonight. I'm too tired. It's been a lot."

His purr deepens and I feel his lips press against the top of my head. "Whenever you're ready. No pressure."