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In response, I gently lick the spot where I bit him.
His arms encircle me tighter, and he shakes his head as if to clear it. “Bath,” he says, his voice deep and almost unrecognizable.
I relent and begin taking in our surroundings, something I hadn’t had the chance to do earlier. When I first arrived, we went straight to the kitchen, drawn by the aroma of simmering cocoa. Then, my curiosity led me to the first room I stumbled upon—the library.
Now, Max takes me up a staircase to the second floor. The hallway is impressively spacious, easily double the width of a typical house’s corridor. The doors are set at least ten feet apart, some even further, accentuating the mansion’s grand scale.
He nudges a door open, revealing the largest bathroom I’ve ever seen, and gently places me on the counter between two sinks.
“Don’t move,” he instructs playfully, tapping my nose before turning away.
“This doesn’t look like a normal-sized bathroom to me,” I observe, noting its pristine condition, almost as if it’s never been used, and it’s massive, equaling the size of my apartment. I’d feel self-conscious about that, but I can’t because it’s luxurious, and I want to take advantage of it.
He responds without looking back. “That’s because we designed it specifically for our future omega. It’s an omega bathroom suite.”
I gaze around the bathroom with newfound appreciation. The claw-foot tub is enormous, easily three times the size of a standard one, positioned in front of a floor to ceiling window that showcases an impressive snowy mountain in the distance. The ceilings vault and arch elegantly above the bathtub, adding to the room’s grandeur.
On either side of the bathtub, there are two showers, each uniquely equipped. One has a different showerhead and frosted glass, while the other is clear with a built-in seat. I continue to sit on the counter, admiring a beautifully crafted mirror behind me. To my left, a large barn door leads to a separate toilet room.
On the opposite side of the bathtub, there’s a luxurious couch. Another barn door is situated nearby, its purpose a mystery to me. Perhaps it leads to another restroom. The main door is directly across from where I sit.
The bathroom’s decor is a crisp white and gray, a neutral palette that I appreciate since it allows for personalization. I can envision adding feminine touches, like a teal vase on the counter or matching pillows on the couch.
I force myself to look away. The thought of settling into this space every morning for makeup or dressing feels premature and almost overwhelming.
As Max selects bath salts and other fragrances from the shelves, the room fills with steam, allowing my thoughts to wander.
Our society is built on the notion of instant gratification, especially in terms of scents and fate. It’s nature’s fail-safe mechanism. We find a scent match and either accept or reject them. If accepted and bonded, that bite is lasting. My alphas, my deltas, will never feel attracted to anotherafterI accept their bond.
Beyond this, though, nature sidesteps the usual complexities. Sure, dating and courting still occur, but not to the extent that betas experience. I remember the gammas at the castle explaining how betas date. They use apps on their phones, choosing people based on images and profiles, with no scents involved.
It’s a completely different world from ours.
I find the concept of beta dating intriguing, despite its foreignness. I’ve never even checked if there are dating apps for alphas and omegas.
“What’s with the frown?” Max inquires, approaching me as he peels off his shirt.
“How dare you,” I murmur, half joking, half serious, my usual filters crumbling as my heat draws nearer.
Max arches an eyebrow, prompting an explanation.
“Why do you have to be so tempting?” I ask, my eyes tracing the contours of his muscular torso, admiring each ridge and line. Reluctantly tearing my gaze away, I add, “I was just pondering beta dating practices.”
“That’s both adorable and random.” He smirks, placing his hands on the counter by my thighs.
This conversation isn’t going anywhere meaningful, and strangely, I find myself wanting to continue it. Yep, I’m definitely in deep.
“So betas are nulls, right?” I query as he lifts me effortlessly and heads toward the bathtub.
“Betas are indeed an interesting anomaly,” he replies, setting me down gently and turning off the water.
I test the water with my hands—it’s the perfect temperature. As I step in, I look up at Max. “Join me?”
His eyes gleam with a mix of lust and restraint. “If that’s what you want.”
“Oh, I do,” I confirm, sinking into the spacious tub with a contented sigh. It’s designed for a pack, not just one person, I realize.
As I settle in, I watch Max unbuckle his belt, finding the action inexplicably alluring. He unbuttons his jeans, and I can’t help but stare, fascinated. His zipper lowers, and I follow the movement with my eyes.
