Rue
For as long as Rue had known Dante, he'd been the most maddening, arrogant and craziest motherfucker she'd ever known in the universe.
The emperor of Planet 1 had a chin perpetually tilted to the sky, a giant stick up his ass, and an ego so colossal that it had its own goddamn orbit. Dante did not walk, he simply couldn't. He sauntered as if he were top dog. And maybe he was truly the Alpha of the world, the strongest being on the planet, the richest man in the universe. The creamiest cream of the crop, the golden pot at the end of the rainbow, and the biggest, fattest fucking peacock in the galaxy.
He was the sort of asshole that would have her sticking a middle finger up behind his back.
But Gods help her because she was growing fond of him.
Like an idiot, she'd started liking the way he preened and paraded. His massive cock metaphorically (and literally) swinging like he owned the stars. (Because he did own them.) And she couldn't really pinpoint when it had happened. Because somewhere between hating his fucking face, leering at his bull-like rage and then saving his life with her pussy in a cave, she'd softened like melting candy.
Maybe it was his stupid pride. The fucker was always boasting about achievement after achievement. (The bastard governed well.)
Maybe it was the way he topped the charts at Hakon, as if he were the smartest in the world. (He was too damn smart.)
Maybe it was the way he almost got himself killed, and she had to save his sorry ass. (He protected her with his life.)
Or maybe, just maybe, it was his damn hair, always moving like annoying weeds in the wind. (He was fucking beautiful.)
The sex had just been survival. They'd been alone in a cave, and there was no one else to save him but her. A totally cliché situation that she couldn't really complain about. It was work; it was kindness; it was being a decent goddamn human being. She did that, so he'd live and continue paying her the fattest paycheck in her life. So why the fuck was her heart pounding so hard in her chest? Why was she staring at him like she was the starving beast?
Why did he have to look so damn good?
His sweat-drenched muscles gleamed in the shadows, the lines of his body divinely sculpted. He unveiled the entirety of his mouth-watering physique with each step, all bronzed corded muscle, muscles vibrating from the root of his chest with each solid breath. But her gaze drifted downwards, dangerously meandering to the unmistakable bulge between his thighs. And all logical thought seemed to crash through a window. And now she was spiralling, thinking of cock in her hole — thick, veiny, and too damn hot.
Her body remembered how it had felt inside her.
Her Omega purred.
He did not knot her in that cave, did not lock deep in her pussy and cum like an Alpha, hold her close and breed her full. He did not try to ensure that pups would take root in her womb. He'd pulled out. And that had left her Omega so fucking disappointed, and so painfully empty. She hated to admit that she had wanted to be knotted, had yearned for it.
But here? Here where he'd lost all reason and willpower. Here where Halcyon could be coerced to hold her tight while he fucked her? Dante might mount her, he might actually mate her. And that had her Omega soaring. Her willpower was collapsing.
She wanted him.
Dante crashed into her like a furnace of heat, all searing skin and fevered restraint. He banished the gap that remained between them, flattened her against the door like the Alpha he was. His arms were up, pressed over her quivering frame, pinning her deliberately in place. And his nose made its move to her neck, lips brushing against the curve, her scent gland.
She swallowed as sensitivity had her knees almost buckling, a whine dripping from her tongue.
She wanted him.
The tease continued. "Omega." His voice was a dark hymn, curling in her skull like insidious smoke. He was gentle with her, thumb beneath her chin. "Let your Alpha look at you." Her eyes caught with his, startled, and he inhaled deeply, lips parted, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as if he'd tasted something divine. It was enough for Halcyon to break free momentarily, surging forward in a desperate panic.
He was still fighting to save her, still trying to free her. Some part of her hated him for that.
"Halcyon—" Dante growled, some semblance of humanity recognising his mate, but something primal flickered in his pupils. He was still deep in Rut, still deep in Rampage. Rue couldn't tell between the two at this point, she only knew that he'd gone completely insane.
"Dante, stop," Halcyon snarled, arms locking around his neck, pulling him back into the shadows. Rue could see the struggle in him, the way he fought against Dante like a feeble mortal against an apex predator. Even breathing seemed strenuous, sweat-soaking curls as Halcyon shivered through an unseen command. His face contorted in agony. "You're not in your right mind—"
"My mate, my fiancee, my love," Dante seethed to him, his voice was madness and prophecy all at once. "Our betrothed can bear us both pups." Halcyon's face seemed to crumple then, filled with a sudden, sharp twisted agony and want. His gaze cut to hers, suddenly vulnerable, suddenly trembling. Rue stared, breath caught in her throat.
Our betrothed?
The fuck?
Halcyon's words were shaky and losing its conviction. "You know our planets will never forgive us if you mate with her. You know what they feel of Omegas. You are not yourself—"
"It doesn't matter," Dante snarled. "This Omega is ours. Fuck them, I want her. We want her." The air was thick, pulsing with something sacred, something wrong. The suppressants were dwindling. He sniffed. And Rue, Gods help her, she was still trembling with need, still battling with her Omega who begged to submit. "I can smell how much you yearn for her too."
"Dante," Halcyon's voice was weak, and she watched as he struggled, fingers on his Alpha's arms, pain rippling through him. She understood quickly then that going against Dante was hurting him. And suddenly his eyes were turned to her, an expectant gaze on sweat-coated features, his teeth snagging on his lower lip. "Rue, forgive me."
Forgive him? Her own command bubbled in her throat, dormant, unused. Halcyon did not understand that Rue was the one hesitating. She was the one battling demons and losing. But she couldn't say that, couldn't say it with the weight of Dante approaching her, hips flush against hers, pulsing cock hot between her thighs. Her own slippery walls clenching and squeezing.
And he knew it, she knew he did from the way his lips spread into a devilish smile.
"Invite me in," Dante purred to her. "Omega, give yourself to me."
Her voice was choked in her throat, but it was not his command that controlled her but her own heart twisting painfully in her chest. A needy whine filtered past her lips like the gravest of mistakes. The first sign of her own pathetic pining for him, the secret she'd sworn she'd take to the grave. And with it a flood of the sweetest sugar that perfumed from her body, spreading in the air. So thick with her arousal and need for him that it even had Halcyon's eyes rolling back into his head, knees buckling as he collapsed from her scent.
It was practically obscene.
She wanted Dante.
She wanted him to fuck her.
It was undeniable now. And it did not matter if it was so fucking wrong. Her entire goddamn body was screaming YES. He was Alpha; he was poison. He was the potential of toxic fatality, an imploding star that could destroy her heart and trash the pieces. He could consume her and spit her out, have her sobbing and retching in a broken future.
She had to hate him, had to resist him.
But Rue couldn't fucking stop herself, couldn't stop the begging of her heart, the pulsing of her clit, the quickening of her breath. The needy parts of her that did not want to fucking listen to reason, to righteousness, to what was the right fucking thing to do.
This was her.
The real her, cornered in a trap in the room with no way out.
The her who just wanted a pack of Alphas to love her. The stupid bitch that she cursed at for giving up her heart. This was an excuse to submit, to let the Alpha fuck her. She was doomed, and she fucking loved it, loved it when Dante's hands found her waist, when his breath ghosted her neck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Her body trembled as if Heat had found her, but it was not Heat that made her this way, that turned her into an Omega dripping for more. Her answering moan when his hands groped at her flesh must be magnetic because the Alphas' gaze had snapped to her.
Halcyon and Dante stared, darkness twisting from the depths of their eyes. And Halcyon seemed to give up because he sagged into himself then, frozen, watching, unable to move from the command. But he wiggled and he whined, tongue out and drooling as if desperate for the source of her. But he couldn't do anything, couldn't stand, couldn't win his pack Alpha.
Pack Alphas always fucked first.
His scent, like petrichor, like the world, like heavy musk. It billowed.
An answer to her scent that was so much more honest than she was.
Dante's smile grew, canines lengthening. "Yes. Yes. Yes," his glee was freed, twisting from his tongue in a loud howl. His hands dragged over her lower belly, teased at her hip. Her pussy clenched, slick spilling free. " I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll never forget the shape of me. I'm going to swallow you all down," he laughed. "I'm going to make you mine."
She did not resist when he turned her over, slammed her against the door, and provided sweet, sweet shelter from the burn of Halcyon's eyes. She was pinned against the door, crushed against the metal. And he was rough, good, awful. His hands roamed her body, tore at fabric, bare pussy kissing the cold of the air with a snap of cloth. And she did not resist when he had her braced against the door, when he spat in his hand and ran his fingers up and down her wet folds. His knuckles brushing across her clit, petting the outer lip. And when his digits dug in deep, she hissed not because it was sore, but because it was good.
"So fucking wet," he growled from behind her. "So fucking greedy for me." Her breath escaping her in pants, his other hand broke the front of her clothes, her tits spilling from her bra, buttons pouring. Her nipples pressed against the door, hardening from the cold, and then he was fingering them, pinching them. He had one knuckle deep in her pussy, and he pushed another in to fuck her faster with a thumb strumming her clit. It was fast, it was fucking wild. "Good Omega," he praised when she rocked back into him, unable to help the pathetic fucking moan. She couldn't fucking speak, felt ashamed to even try with her cheeks roaring red.
But by God she was whispering his name, listening to the squelch as he curled his digits to rub at her walls, she could feel herself frothing from his finger fucking. She bucked hard and he fucked her rougher, faster, scissoring her cunt like he was used to it, when she knew he'd barely ever touched Omegas.
How the fuck was he so good? Her mind felt odd, thoughts slippery and hot. How the fuck did he know what to do? She craved so much more, cries seeping from her tongue, muffled against the metal. One final slap on the right spot had her set on fire. Her orgasm came too fast, hurtling her up into the sky and spitting her out into the endless white. Her ears were ringing, moans raw, loud, needy and wild.
She was lost to everything but his touch.
And she was done, done being an Omega that resisted.
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