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Too terrified to speak, I stood that I might escape the familiar yet unknown alpha. What would I be able to say? I wanted him to follow his heart so long as that heart led to me. But I was an omega he had just met. He did not know me from Eve. The most he knew was my scent, but what did that matter to a man with no intention of finding a mate? A strangled cry escaped me. I couldn’t.
“I don’t know. Yes. Follow your heart—“
Syon growled and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight, and pulling me closer. “I knew it. I should have… I should have never told you I would leave. I should not have put you through that, Hartwell. Come with me…”
“No,” I panted and tugged at his firm grip. He had discovered me. By accident, to be sure. But he knew. Some primal part of him knew.
Syon dropped my hand as if burnt.
“Damn, I am a cad. A bastard. I beg your pardon, for in the heat of the moment I mistook you—“ he growled, deep and low, but caught my hand in his again. If possible, it seemed he might draw me near, and my body leant towards him. The unmistakable feeling of slick between my thighs. Dammit, but he would discover me…
“Syon!” I whined. “This is not…”
“Viola,” He started when my scent reached him. And I? I stumbled back, landing in an undignified puddle of shame on the floor. He moved like lightning, picking me up, clutching me close even as his words pushed me away. “I leave you now. I must clear my head… You understand. Of course, you do. I’ll be at Ayleigh… That’s in Oxfordshire.”
A kind of energy like the nervous excitement of riding a young horse towards a fence raced through me. Knowing that you would throw your heart over and make the jump and continue to gallop on to the next field. But not knowing if the horse could take it, or would throw you to the ground. My heart pounded like the horse’s hooves and I was not focused on the rapidly disappearing ground between us but on the field beyond. I’d already thrown my heart over, I’d already committed to my actions, and there would be no going back. I didn’t think about the consequences, I’d accept them. I had to. Because I felt his cock pressed hard against his breeches. I needed to hold that hard length in my hand, weigh it, measure it against my palm, my arm for it was certainly longer than my hand. I’d tasted but I’d not yet explored. Dear Goddess, what was I thinking? Why was I so desperate to humiliate myself like this? Some fever in the brain.
He spun away from me. Putting space between us, moving towards the door, leaving me forever.
But tripping, like the prisoner towards the gallows, my feet, ‘gainst my will, dragged me towards him. His growl warned me off. Instead, it worked on me as a siren’s call beckoning me closer. Perhaps we could somehow convince our fevered brains that this was just bodies. I had to convince myself it was just bodies. That I was merely a tool for him to use.
“Syon... You... You need to tell me to stop.”
I rested my head against his broad, powerful back, breathed in the smell of him, raw and alpha. His body shuddered with each breath and two large hands gripped my wrists when I wrapped my arms around his waist.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said.
“I know. Just...” I took a stammering breath. I needed this to be something we both wanted too much to ignore. “Just use my hands. Imagine. They... You need relief.”
“Yes,” his whispered plea broke my heart.
Blindly, I struggled with the fastenings. Blindly, I reached for him. Blindly, I felt how his hot length sprang free and bobbed in the cool air.
I grasped it at the root, just above the swollen knot.
“I need to see,” I told his back, my nose tracing up his spine. “Tell me you want this.”
“I do,” he growled but did not let me go. He would not let me see him. I stepped into his back, pressing him into my embrace until there was no way he could escape me. Of course, he was stronger, perfectly capable of setting me aside—but he didn’t. I had never felt more powerful or more pathetic. This alpha, so impressive and so very much at my mercy but who did not want me as I wanted him. He might be hard, but that was my omega scent and nothing more. What I wanted from him was far harder to give—his mate mark. My breath came hot and fast on his back as my hands gripped his cock and gave it sure strokes up and down while squeezing his knot.
As he came in my hand, he spoke my name like a prayer. “Viola.”
We stood there for an unknown amount of time. He wiped my hands with a handkerchief and stepped away from me. I wanted to stop him. My omega rebelled at the thought of his seed going to waste when I could spread it on my skin or better still lick and suck it from my fingers. I turned my head away, embarrassed. Afraid he would see the tears falling down my face. That he would think I was disgusting, an untouched omega helping to his orgasm. I needed to tell him now. After what had happened, I had to tell him.
“Syon, it is me… I am,” my head jerked up at the sound of the door slamming.
He had already left, even as I was about to confess.
Viola fell silent and, like one possessed, went to the window to watch the clouds come in. It is like to rain, she thought.
