Page 134 of Deadly Sweet

Chapter 27

Savannah

Okay, so I don’t haveto kill him. Thank fuck, because that would have really sucked. I’ve grown pretty fond of him.

Who am I kidding? The man has latched onto my soul, and I know there’s no shaking it. It’s not just because he’s my scent match. He’s so much more than that.

He doesn’t only accept my crazy, he embraces it, encourages it, and never makes me feel like there’s anything wrong with me.

He’s funny, kind, and just as nuts as I am.Okay, maybe not as nuts, but he’s up there.

Caleb matches my energy. As much as I know, the rest of them accept who I am, and every one of my pack members means the world to me, it’s nice to have someone to indulge in my wild side with.

Not going to lie, as much as I tried to act like the big bad Omega I can be, it really fucking hurt to find him with that woman.

Did I overreact, acting like a psycho, jealous Omega, instead of going up to him and asking him like a normal person would?

Yes. Yes, I did, and I’d do it again because I’m not normal. Iama psycho jealous Omega. What do you want from me?

Knowing that she’s just his co-worker has allowed him to keep his dick. But co-worker or not, I don’t want him around any other woman who’s not our daughter or family.

Shit, did I really just say OUR daughter?

Athena has quickly become someone I love and want to protect. She’s my pack’s child, therefore she’s mine as well. I might not have given birth to her, but I feel a connection that's special and unique.

Anyway, Caleb needs a reminder of who he belongs to, and the best part is, he’s begging me for it.

This big, bad Alpha is fucking putty in my hands. The way he whimpers for me has my nipples hardening and slick dripping down my legs.

He puts bad guys behind bars for a living, yet he’s a needy mess strapped to a chair begging a little Omega to have her way with him.

It’s a fucking power rush.

But unlike the other men I’ve had strapped to a chair, I don’t want to break him, to make him cry.

No, I want his moans, his whimpers, and whines. I want him to beg me, and when it’s too much, I want him to ask for more.

My Alpha likes it, wants to be used. Maybe even receive a little degradation.

I can understand the appeal. It can be empowering and arousing when done in the right way—to make someone feel wanted, not to make someone feel like they’re worth nothing.

He said to punish him, to use him, and make it hurt.

Don’t mind if I do.

Getting to my feet, I watch my Alpha, who’s a panting mess, while he sits there, watching me with hunger. He’s a starved man, and the only thing that can satiate him is me.

I love it. I need it. I can’t explain it.

Placing the knife on the table, I hold his stare as I start to strip.

With each item of clothing removed, his breathing grows heavier.

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