Page 12 of Inside the Sun

Sometimes I think that even if Dogger and I weren’t True Mates, maybe we could’ve been hidden High Mates? Sadly, I’ll never know. My sense of smell wasn’t mature when we split, so I never got to learn his Allure and our pheromonal compatibility.

Fuck. Why am I even thinking about this again? Whatever. It is what it is. This is my life. I’ve learned to live with the ashes ofDogger and me. No rising from that.

Now, I take what I can: comfort, hot guys, and once in a while, something a little exciting, even if most of them are boring as hell.

We pull up to my dorm. I figure he’s just dropping me off and driving off without a word, but then I see him get out of the car.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"I think we need to talk," he says, words half-spat through clenched teeth. "If you’d be so kind, maybe we could have this conversation in your room."

I shrug. We head up the steps to the main entrance. I punch in the code and open the door. The beta guy at the front desk calls out,

"Hey! No guests allowed. Only family can come in."

Martin turns toward him, pulls out his wallet, and peels off a thick stack of cash. He tosses it on the desk.

The beta makes a weird face but grabs the money and doesn’t say another word.

I’ve been living here for eight days, so I don’t know the guy well. So far, he’s only seen me with my parents. But dorm rules are clear: no outside guests allowed. Apparently, though, money opens any door. Cliché.

We keep walking. Still dead silence between us.

I unlock the door and we step inside, but the moment I close it behind us, Martin's hands are already grabbing my waist.

"Geez! Fuck, weren’t you just saying you wanted to break up with me?"

But he doesn’t say a word. I feel his mouth on my neck, his body pressing against my back. All the shit boiling inside me… yeah, well, this has always been the easiest way to let off steam. So fine. I don’t stop him.

I feel his hips grinding into me. We're about the same height, which makes this whole thing easier. His hardness presses against my ass as his hands slide up my chest, brushing over my stiff nipples. His hot breath on my neck lights a fuse in me. Sex is just a release. Always has been. When I’m stressed or pissed, it helps dull the edge.

So I let him shove me over the desk. A second later, I hear the rustle of a condom box opening.

I stay silent. I just stare at the sticker on the laptop in front of me, my hands gripping the edge of the desk.

Fucking emptiness expands in me a bit wider. It’s always that way with sex. The shallow pleasure, numbing, fleeting. Parts of me hate it because it feels so wrong. It should never be them. It should behim. Still, I keep doing it.

Martin pulls my pants down. He doesn’t need to prep me. I’m an anomaly among alphas, I produce my own slick.

And that’s not the only unusual thing about me. I let his fingers find my entrance. Yeah, it’s different too. Looks like what rose omegas have.

Every guy I’ve ever been with has gasped when he discovered that. Not in a bad way, more like a quick obsession taking hold. Martin’s no different. He’s fascinated by my body. His fingers brush the soft, petal-like edges of my entrance and… okay, it feels good. I let myself stop thinking for a minute. Let the pink void swallow me up.

But it doesn’t last.

A moment later, I feel the hard head of his cock pushing against my slick, tight entrance. One thrust, and he’s inside. I grunt. There’s some discomfort, sure, but I push through it. Once he starts fucking me, it fades. And soon enough, it actually feels good. My mind drifts away; my typical routine.

I think about Dogger.

Every time, I think of him. He was my first, I always dreamed he’d be my last. But that’s not how life works out.

I never talk about our relationship anymore. The few times I did, people laughed and said it was some dumb puppy-love thing. "Just your first fuck," they said. "Not important."

I don’t give a shit what they think. I’ll remember Dogger forever. Even if he’s out there screwing other guys now.

Well, I do the same.

Thrust. Thrust. Another. And another. The pace quickens. My hips bang against the edge of the desk. My cock hangs between my legs, half-hard.

---