Page 47 of The Sterling Acquisition
Orion wanted to argue, but he could feel the truth of it. His skin was fever-hot, his breathing uneven, and every muscle in his body was coiled with tension he couldn’t release. Leo would notice.
“What do you suggest?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“Let me take the edge off.” Dante was close enough now that Orion could smell him.
“No.”
“Orion...” Dante crouched down in front of the bed, bringing himself to eye level. “Stop being a brat and let me help you.”
Orion swung wildly, his fist connecting with Dante’s jaw in a satisfying crack. The Alpha didn’t flinch, his eyes flashing with something dangerous as he wiped a small smearing of blood from his tongue with his thumb.
“Good,” Dante mused. He brought his bloodied thumb to Orion’s mouth, pressing against his lips. “Taste what you did.”
Orion turned his head away, but Dante grabbed his hair and forced him back. The metallic tang of blood filled his mouth as Dante pushed his thumb past Orion’s lips. “Taste it,” Dante ordered.
Orion’s cheeks hollowed instinctively, his tongue moving against the digit despite himself. The taste of copper and salt spread across his tongue, somehow making everything worse—more immediate, more real. His pulse pounded in his ears as heat surged through him, a primal response to blood and domination he’d never experienced before.
Dante’s eyes darkened with satisfaction as he pulled his thumb free with a wet pop.
“Such a good boy when you want to be,” Dante murmured, watching as Orion swallowed convulsively. “But we both know you don’t want to be good, do you?”
Why did I do that?
Before Orion could respond, Dante was moving, shoving him back onto the bed. Orion landed hard, the impact knocking the breath from his lungs. He tried to roll away, but Dante’s weight came down on top of him, pinning him effortlessly.
The Alpha’s thigh pressed between Orion’s legs, grinding against the ache that had been driving him mad for hours. Orion gasped, trying to buck him off, but Dante’s grip in his hair kept him still.
“Get away from me,” Orion snapped, the words lacking conviction even to his own ears.
“You’re dripping,” Dante groaned, his hips rolling in a slow, deliberate grind that made Orion’s vision blur at the edges. “I can smell how much you want this.”
“Shut up!” Orion’s breath came in sharp gasps as Dante’s free hand slid down his chest, fingers teasing at his nipple through the thin fabric of his shirt. His body arched into the contact before his mind could tell it to pull away.
Dante’s fingers moved further down and traced the outline of Orion’s erection through his pants, pressing just enough to make Orion’s hips buck. “You’re hard for me, even when you’re trying to break my face.”
“Get fucked, Dante,” Orion gasped. He pulled his knee back and slammed his heel into Dante’s shoulder, trying to knock him back. Dante absorbed the blow with a grunt and a smile before leaning into the limb, pressing Orion’s leg back until it felt like the tendons in his hip would pop.
Dante’s free hand slid lower, fingers teasing at the crease of Orion’s thigh. “Even now, still denying this,” he murmured, palming the slick wet spot forming on the seat of Orion’s pants.
The pressure there, so close to where no one had ever touched him, made Orion’s entire body lock up. His breath came in sharp, uneven bursts as Dante’s thumb circled the sensitive skin through the fabric, not pushing in, just teasing.
“Don’t—” The word sounded broken, desperate. Orion didn’t even know what he was asking for anymore—don’t touch me there or don’t stop?
“Just admit you need this,” Dante’s voice was a dark whisper against his ear. His thumb pressed harder, making Orion gasp. “You need my mouth, my teeth, my hands, my cock. You need me.”
Orion’s face burned with humiliation. He tried to shake his head, but Dante’s grip in his hair kept him still. Words failed him, his usually sharp mind unable to form coherent thoughts through the flood of sensation.
“Fuck you,” Orion snarled, thrashing against the hold. “I don’t need anything from you, you corporate piece of shit.”
“No?” Dante licked the shell of his ear as he used his leverage to work Orion’s pants down to his thighs. “Then explain this.”
Orion felt tears of rage and humiliation prick at his eyes as cool air hit his heated skin. He was exposed, hard and wet and trembling, and Dante was looking at him like he was something to be devoured. The vulnerability was unbearable, made worse by his body’s obvious response. He spent years making sure no one ever saw him like this—weak, needy, at the mercy of his biology.
“Beautiful,” Dante breathed, his eyes dark with hunger. “Look at you. So open, so ready. I can’t wait to taste every inch of you.”
The tears spilled over then, not from sadness but from pure frustrated fury. Dante could just take him. Right now. And there would be nothing Orion could do to stop it. All his defiance, all his planning, all his resistance, and in the end, his own body would betray him to the first Alpha he let get too close.
Dante must have seen something in his expression because his voice gentled, even as his hands remained possessive. “Hey. Look at me.”
