Page 49 of The Sterling Acquisition
Through the haze of his orgasm, he felt Dante withdraw his fingers and heard the slick sound of him using Orion’s wetness to stroke himself. Then Dante was repositioning them, slotting their cocks together and wrapping his hand around both.
The sensation was too much. Orion whimpered, oversensitive but unable to pull away as Dante worked them both with ruthless efficiency.
He watched Dante’s face as the Alpha chased his release—saw the moment when that careful control cracked. Dante came with a strangled groan, spilling over both their cocks and his hand.
For a moment, they just breathed hard, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat and something that might have been satisfaction.
So that’s what it looks like when Dante falls apart, Orion thought distantly as the Alpha slumped against him. The observation came through a fog, his brain struggling to process what had just happened, what he allowed to happen.
It was beautiful and terrifying in equal measure.
“Do you know anyone in town who sells really strong suppressants?” Dante asked after they’d both caught their breath, his voice returning to that maddeningly practical tone.
Orion stared at him in disbelief. His body felt strange, foreign—loose and heavy and sensitive in ways he’d never experienced. And Dante was talking about suppressants like they’d just had a business meeting instead of whatever the hell that was.
“You’re asking this now? After all that?” His voice sounded wrong, hoarse from sounds he hadn’t meant to make.
“After establishing that your current condition makes strategic planning impossible, yes.” Dante was already reaching for something to clean them both up, efficient even in the aftermath. “Suppressants would give us more time to work with.”
“Why didn’t you start with that suggestion?” Orion wanted to sound angry, to maintain some semblance of his usual defiance, but he just felt... exhausted. Drained. Like something essential had been pulled out of him along with his orgasm.
Dante’s smile was sharp, unapologetic. “Because this was more satisfying than practical problem-solving.”
Orion wanted to throttle him—and was annoyed to realize he no longer had the energy for proper violence. His limbs felt like lead, his mind sluggish and confused. Part of him wanted to curl up and sleep for a week, while another part was screaming that he’d just surrendered something fundamental in ways that would be impossible to take back.
“There’s a clinic on the east side of town,” he said, the words coming slowly. “Gray market stuff, mostly. They don’t ask questions if you pay in cash.”
“Perfect. I’ll handle that this evening.” Dante finished cleaning them up and began straightening his clothes with clinical efficiency. “In the meantime, you need to be the compliant pet Leo expects to see.”
“And if I can’t manage that?” How was he supposed to act normally after this? How was he supposed to pretend nothing changed when his entire body felt different, when he could still feel the ghost of Dante’s fingers inside him?
“Then we’ll have to accelerate our timeline.” Dante moved toward the door, then paused. “For what it’s worth, you were magnificent.”
Magnificent. Like he was a natural disaster rather than a person. Like his desperate struggle to maintain some control had been a performance for Dante’s entertainment.
“Go to hell,” Orion said, but without real heat. He was too exhausted, too confused by what had just happened between them.
“Already there, but I’ll be leaving soon,” Dante replied. “I hope you’ll come with me.”
The door closed behind him, and Orion was left alone with the knowledge that he’d just let his potential future owner give him the most intense sexual experience of his life while planning his escape from chemical lobotomy.
He stared at the ceiling, too tired to move, his mind a jumble of confused, half-formed thoughts. His body felt better and worse—the desperate edge of pre-heat dulled, replaced by a bone-deep satisfaction.
What did it mean that he responded so eagerly? Was it just biology, just his heat, or was he weak enough to be seduced by the first Alpha who knew what they were doing? Had he just handed Dante a weapon to use against him?
Orion pressed his palms against his eyes. He should be furious—at Dante for pushing, at himself for responding. Instead, he just felt... empty. He reached for the stolen blanket, still stuffed beneath his pillow, to stroke the plush texture as he wondered what the hell he was going to do. Dante’s scent still lingered on the blanket. On him. In him.
It smells good.
Christ. He was in so much trouble.
Chapter sixteen
Pharmaceutical Roulette
Dante
Thegraymarketclinicwas what Dante expected—a converted storefront sandwiched between a pawn shop and a place that sold “medical equipment.” No corporate logos, just a faded sign reading “Wellness Solutions” in peeling vinyl letters.
