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Within moments, we were out into the cool night air, and he had to restrain me from clawing at my gown.
“Dammit, you’ll rip the thing off, and I’ll not them see what belongs to me.” Syon threw me over his shoulder and strode across the square to his house. He rammed through the door and began barking orders at his surprised servants.
“Take a note to Weymouth Street. Tell them Viola Hartwell has gone into heat. I’ll put her into the duchess nest.”
I purred at the thought of a nest. My nest.
“Shall I bring supplies?” Horne asked.
“Yes,” I growled. I needed supplies if I was going to be rutted through my heat. My alpha needed supplies too. Nesting materials. Food. Water. But Horne was a good beta. He would know what was needed.
I could feel the tension in Syon’s body. Supplies implied that he would rut me through my heat, which he had not agreed to. I growled. He had brought me here, and I’d be damned, but he would be the one to knot me. I would have it no other way.
“Syon,” I whined, knowing he would worry and be more receptive to suggestion than if I unleashed my omega temper. Pained at the thought he would leave me in my time of need. “I need your knot.”
“Do it. Bring everything we will need for a protracted heat,” Syon called as he carried me upstairs. Good. He was taking me to my nest. My nest… My nest was attached to the bedroom I’d been using for months. Had they known? Did it matter?
I sighed and leant into his scent. Rubbing my face across his chest, marking him as mine, being marked by him in return. Syon stroked my back while the beta servants brought nest material into the duchess’s suite. I itched to begin sorting through everything, but he kept me trapped to his chest, nipping at my mating gland and purring for me to be calm until they had finished. I resented this but did not resent being in my first proper nest. I had never been in a room dedicated to nesting before. One where a huge, low platform filled most of the room with a deep feather mattress on top of it. Now, thanks to the servants, there were fresh linens and pillows. At last, I managed to wriggle free from the alpha’s grip and tore into the materials to begin the process of sorting and placing them into the perfect mosaic. Somewhere fit for an omega and the alpha she invited to rut her. Syon’s scent was not to be found, nor mine, but that would be rectified soon. I did not worry too much. We would make this nest ours.
All the while, Syon prowled back and forth, while I attempted to focus on where I placed each pillow and blanket. Timms brought his unlaundered clothes to the door but no further as Syon had snarled at the poor man. I did not care who brought the precious nesting material so long as there was no scent of omega. No omega but me. I looked over my shoulder to where he stood, in mud-splattered clothing. I scowled.
“Strip,” I ordered him.
My alpha didn’t respond, but every line of his body tensed as I shuffled to the edge of the nest.
“Strip,” I growled. “Get out of that jacket. Give it to me.”
Our eyes held as he removed each article of clothing. One by one he handed fine wool and velvets and linens to me so that I could find each its perfect place amongst the sheets and pillows. Until, at last, he was naked.
Syon in all his alpha glory was a sight to behold. My eyes traced every plane of solid muscle that seemed cut from marble. Beautiful. I licked dry lips, desperate to taste and lick and bite and kiss and suck every inch until he was marked and mine.
“Now you,” he commanded.
Tonight, I was not wearing a simple gown but a full ball dress that a maid had laced me into. Syon moved close as I struggled to get out of the gown. When he became impatient, he spun me around as if I weighed nothing and ripped the fine satin. Those solid arms wrapping around me and pinning my back to his chest while he licked at my mating gland. It caused another wave of slick. I knew he noticed, for the growl that reverberated through my body and how he ran his teeth down the column of my neck.
My heat was upon me, and Syon, my alpha, had tipped straight into rut. Reason? We abandoned it, returned to bodies embracing and revelling in instincts that demanded we fuck until he had bred me.
I landed on Syon as he tumbled us into the nest. I shifted into a kneeling position to better wriggle free from the gown we had yet to completely remove. Syon reached up to help me but only managed to get in the way. He settled for pushing my skirts to my waist, stroking his hands up and down my legs, rubbing my thighs through the slick soaked silk stockings, but never once touching my sex, mewling at being so denied. Eventually, he became too impatient and, in a demonstration of alpha strength, ripped both the bodice of my gown and my corset in half, tossing it somewhere in my nest. How strange that straddling a powerful alpha in nothing but the skirt of a ballgown should make me feel so powerful.
He cupped my breasts which spilt out of my torn chemise. His thumbs grazed my nipples, driving a keening wail of need as fresh cramps shook my body. My agony pleased him. But it pleased me more to feel his hot and heavy length bumping against my sex. Neither of us had expected my heat. Neither of us had dressed for seduction. But in my innocence, this was the ultimate form of attraction, when a simple cotton chemise, shredded gown, and plain silk stockings felt like the most expensive French negligée.
I didn’t have time to worry about my inexperience because I didn’t give myself time. As soon as we had tossed my skirts over my head, I was desperate to feel his bare skin against my own. I ran my hands along his strong chest, covered with crisp hair. Syon caught on to my urgency and sat up so that he could strip the fine cotton chemise from my body. I dropped soft open-mouthed kisses on his shoulders. For the first time, I felt his hands clasp the twin globes of my ass. Pushing them together before lewdly pulling them apart. I dropped my forehead to his neck, panting at the luxurious feeling of his hands gripping the flesh of my ass. I mewled as they moved away to knead my bare breasts. His touch was addictive. I could have happily stayed there forever—allowing his hands to roam over my feverish body. But Syon had fallen into rut and was ready to move on. He allowed me one final reprieve before he claimed me. His palms weighed my breasts before coming up to hold my face and pull me in for a deep kiss.
I fell into him as he expertly rolled us so that I was now on my back, staring up into mirrored-gold eyes. Taking in his crooked nose and the faint sheen of sweat on his brow.
“Viola…” his eyes, mirrored gold, had never looked more beautiful. “You are so beautiful.”
“Take care of me, Syon,” I told him. “Let me take care of you.”
“Viola…” he moaned into my neck. I gasped when he lightly bit the sensitive skin of my mating gland. His scent overwhelmed my senses. I arched into him when he stroked my sex with the back of his hand. I knew about how to pleasure my own body—had survived heats with nothing but my slim digits and toys—but the confident fingers I felt were a different kind of pleasure entirely. Through the haze of building orgasm, I instinctively reached out for him. The feeling of his erection and swollen knot on my thigh was tantalising, and I found myself drawn to it. To touch it and hold it in my hand. To measure its weight and length. He gasped when I squeezed him. This was mine. It had been mine for weeks now, ever since he had covered my face with his cum. But now was different. Now he would know that I was the one giving him this pleasure.
“I want to see you,” my voice sounded breathless.
“Yes.”
He knelt above me and I saw how large he was—before, I’d had an impression of his girth and length, but the warm glow of candlelight multiple a hundredfold made it possible to see every throbbing inch. The pulsing vein that snaked its way from base to tip. The strength of his knot strained against gravity for he was so long and thick that his hard cock bobbed with the beat of his heart. In mimicry of the torture he subjected me to earlier, I stroked his thighs while never touching where we both wanted. I was captivated by what I saw. I wrapped my hand around him, my thumb and middle finger not touching. My breath caught. Could he fit? Would he rip me in half? But those irrational fears fled when he gripped my hand tighter around his shaft. It was hot and velvet-smooth, yet hard and insistent. I could not know how much control he possessed to allow me to explore him with my searching touch especially when my heat rode us so strongly. I glanced at his clenched fist and wondered how far he would let me go before taking back control. When I turned my attention back to his erection I noticed a bead of arousal on the swollen tip. I collected it with my finger and brought it to my mouth. The taste was different and intriguing during his rut, stronger to prove his virility. My body tensed with need. I wanted to taste, but my body wanted his seed deep inside my womb.
“Can I?” I asked, never taking my eyes off the swollen head wet with precum. He didn’t speak, which I took for permission. I gently pressed him onto the bed and knelt beside him, tucking my hair behind my ears and bending over to lick him. My hands roamed after my mouth. While I explored, Syon reached between my legs and began stroking my cunt. I could hear the obscene sounds of my slick as it leaked from me and he thrust his fingers deep into my tight channel. I became increasingly distracted from kissing his shaft.
