Page 55 of The Omega's Alpha
“That too. I don’t know.” His fingers played over the handle of the door and he refused to turn and look at Quin.
“If it helps, you’ve made me the happiest shifter alive.” That earned him a smile, though it didn’t quite erase the troubled look in Holland’s eyes. “I mean it,” Quin continued. “But I don’t know what to do, if you’re not happy with the attention that Alpha’s Mate gets. Are you having second thoughts?” Lysoon, he hoped not.
“No!” Holland’s hand clenched on his thigh and he cast a panicked glance in Quin’s direction.
“Good. I’d hate to lose you.” He pulled Holland’s hand up to his mouth and kissed each finger. “I don’t know what I did before you came along and saved me.”
Holland laughed and looked away, but his expression in that moment before he did was pleased. His fingers tightened on Quin’s.
Quin laughed softly and held up the sheet of paper. “So, do you want to make me legal now, or have one more go at illicit pre-mating sex?”
Holland turned back to him, his mouth hanging open. “Did you already sign it?”
“No yet.” Quin handed it over as proof and watched while Holland read the lines. His fingers skated over their names, written in bold on the heavy paper, then down to the place where Abel had signed as Holland’s guardian, Mac and Cas acting as witnesses though they’d been entirely absent from the evening. There was only one blank space left, where Quin’s name belonged. Holland’s fingers paused there. “You’d need a pen.”
“Should be one in the glove compartment.”
Holland dug through the supplies and turned back to him with a cheap plastic pen in his hand. “Sign.” He watched steadily while Quin signed, then took the paper back again to look at it. “So we’re mated.”
“We are.”
Holland gazed at Quin’s signature a moment longer, then set the paper on the dash. “Let’s go home, mate,” he said, his tone entirely matter-of-fact, but there was excitement in his scent, and desire, and that sweet richness that Quin associated only with Holland.
Quin lifted Holland’s hand to his mouth and kissed it, then turned his attention back to the road.
At the main pack building, he helped Holland carry the pups upstairs and put them to bed, kissed Holland tenderly, then raced back downstairs to put the van away, spurred on by Holland’s, “Don’t be long.” He was back in record time, certain that there’d be a complaint from Mac tomorrow for the sheer disregard for neatness and pack property he’d shown parking the vehicle.
Holland was sitting on the couch, leafing through a magazine and looking at pictures of the models when Quin got back to the apartment. Immediately, Holland threw the magazine to one side and stood up, reaching for the buttons of Quin’s shirt. “I want to find out if mated sex is different from unmated sex.” He thrust himself against Quin, his fingers making short work of the buttons while Quin’s brain and then his body caught up to current events.
Quin buried his hand in Holland’s long hair, twisting the silken strands around his fingers as if he could weave the two of them together for life in this way. Holland spread Quin’s shirt wide and dug his fingers into the muscle of his chest, letting a breathy moan slink past his lips to drive Quin’s wolf side mad. Quin growled and pulled Holland to him, kissing him savagely, holding him in place with a handful of hair while Quin’s other hand shoved wildly at Holland’s jeans, tearing at the button until it ripped through the fabric. Holland grunted and removed one hand from Quin’s chest to pull at the buttons of his own shirt, the little plastic discs pinging away onto the floor as frustration made him clumsy.
“Damn it,” Quin muttered and spun Holland around, pushing him face-first against the wall. “Too many clothes.”
“Yeah,” Holland gasped, half-laughing, and helped Quin shove his jeans down to his knees. “You’re awful slow, Alpha. Did I mate an old man?”
“I’ll show you old.” Quin bit the back of Holland’s neck, wrenching a soft, whimpering howl from his omega, and stripped his pants down to his knees. “You taste good.”
“Do that again,” Holland whispered, his eyes shut and his head tilted as if listening, or feeling, for something.
Quin chuckled against the back of Holland’s shoulder. “Say please,” he told him, wondering which way his independent omega would jump.
“Oh, please,” Holland breathed and tipped his head further to the side. His hips moved back and the bare skin of his ass grazed against Quin’s eager cock. “Yes, please.”
Quin pushed him back against the wall and reached between them to direct his cock. To hear his logical, organized, stubborn omega beg was nearly enough to finish him right there, but knowing that they were mates, family, their own little pack within Mercy Hills, he needed to claim him and, it seemed, Holland needed to be claimed. He set his teeth in the soft flesh at the base of Holland’s neck and Holland moaned again, his fingers scrabbling against the wall. Quin grabbed the collar of Holland’s shirt and pulled it down over his arms, trapping his mate so that all Holland would be able to do now was feel.
Holland panted and gasped, making small noises with each exhalation that reminded Quin of the beginnings of a howl. He bit down harder, denting the skin hard enough that he knew there’d be a mark there the next day, and pushed inside his mate. Holland groaned and his hands, trapped now at waist height, flattened against the wall, the tips of the fingers turning white with pressure. Quin licked the marks he’d made on Holland’s shoulder and crushed Holland between him and the wall. “I can’t go slow tonight.”
“Don’t want you to,” Holland said. He reached behind him, his efforts hampered by the cloth tangling around his wrists. “Fuck me.” He patted at Quin’s hip as if urging him on.
I love you.But he was beyond words now and he hoped that the emotion came through as he wrapped his hand in Holland’s hair again, choking a laugh out of him, and slid a hand in between the wall and Holland’s cock. Not just to be certain he didn’t hurt him, but because he wanted it to be him that made Holland come, not cold drywall.
Holland whimpered and reached for him again, pulling against Quin’s hold on his hair and laughing a wolf’s laugh. “Hurry, old man.”
Quin bit him again, higher, so that the hickey would be visible to the world, and let his body do what it wanted, which was to fuck Holland through the wall if that’s what it took to make them both happy. Holland gasped and braced himself against the wall, his body shivering with need and his enforced inability to do anything about it. The part of his scent that screamed omega got stronger, calling to Quin’s alpha. Quin pulled his face around for a kiss, letting go of Holland’s hair to cup the back of his head and gently massage his abused scalp while lips and tongues played their own game of mating. Holland moaned and nipped at Quin’s lips, drawing blood that only seemed to drive both of them wilder. Quin shuffled closer and began thrusting faster and harder, as if he was trying to become one with his mate. And maybe he was—he wanted him so badly.
Holland’s head fell back, his mouth partly open and he seemed lost to the outside world. Quin licked his neck, drawing a plaintive sound out of him, and then bent his head to press his forehead against the hollow behind Holland’s jaw and gave himself up to the spell his mate had woven around him.
Not long after, Holland began to squirm and random words and phrases dropped from his lips, until he made a sound of uncontrolled ecstasy and came in Quin’s hand. His body went tight, forcing himself back against Quin’s body and he sobbed and laughed and moaned until Quin wrapped an arm around his waist and let himself go. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wished there was the possibility of a pup, because the thought of Holland’s belly swelling with the fruit of their lovemaking made him groan and shove himself deeper inside Holland’s body, as if to ensure he was planting seed in fertile ground. Except it wasn’t, and he’d rather have Holland and no pups, than have the pups without Holland.
