Page 11 of A Cobbled Conspiracy
“I’ve missed your scent,” he growled against the nape of my neck, his voice rougher than I’d ever heard it. “Seven days, and all I can smell is disinfectant and my own melancholia.”
Without warning, his hands slammed against the wall on either side of me, caging me in completely. The sound made me jump, but what mortified me was the spike of arousal that shot through my body at being trapped. He leaned his full weight against my back, pinning me to the wall with an aggression that should have frightened me.
Instead, I had to bite back a moan.
“The guard,” I whispered, my voice shaking with want I couldn’t hide.
“Shh,” he hissed softly, his lips against my ear. “I’ve been going out of my fucking mind. This is why I told Blake I didn’t want you to come here.”
When his nose brushed against the mating mark, he didn’t just scent me—he pressed his face against my neck with desperate hunger, breathing me in like he was drowning and I was air.
“Dom,” I gasped, mortified by how my body was responding to his rough handling.
“That’s it,” he rumbled. “Let me take care of you. Let me remind you who you belong to.”
He breathed in deeply, a sound that was more growl than breath, and I felt his whole body shudder against mine with barely leashed control. His teeth raked my skin. The bond mark tingled under his aggressive attention, and warmth began spreading through my chest for the first time in days.
“Your scent is so fucking wrong,” he snarled against my skin. “Stressed, exhausted, scared. I can smell the separation sickness eating you alive.”
“I’m okay,” I lied, even as my knees went weak from his proximity and the raw hunger in his voice.
“No, you’re not.” His voice carried that alpha authority that made me want to submit to anything he desired, but there was something wild underneath it now. “And neither am I. I’m barely holding it together here, Leo. Barely.”
I felt him press closer, felt the unmistakable hardness of his arousal grinding against my lower back with an urgency that bordered on desperate. My own body responded immediately, heat pooling low in my belly despite our surroundings. The mortification that I was getting this turned on by his rough handling in a prison visitation room only seemed to make me harder.
“I need to mark you,” Dominic said, his voice strained to the breaking point. “Need to scent you so deep you remember you’re mine even when they drag me away.”
Before I could respond, I felt his teeth against the mating mark—not a gentle nip this time, but a claiming bite that made me see stars. His arms came up on either side of me, muscles corded with tension as he fought not to completely lose control.
The bite sent electricity shooting straight through the bond, and I had to press my forehead against the wall to keep from crying out. My body was responding as if we were completely alone instead of stealing forbidden contact in a detention center. The knowledge that I was this aroused by his aggression mortified me to no end. Tears gathered in my eyes, not from sorrow, but from shame at my own wanton desire and relief that he was finally touching me again.
"Let me give you what you need,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a rumble that vibrated against my neck. “What we both need.”
He bit down again, harder this time, then began ravenously scenting along the line of my neck. Each breath he took seemed to calm something wild and feral in both of us, but his grip on the wall beside my head was white-knuckled with the effort of maintaining even this much control.
“Dom,” I gasped, mortified when my hips pressed back against him involuntarily. I could feel exactly how hard he was, could smell his alpha pheromones spiking with raw want and possession.
“I know, baby,” he breathed against my ear, his voice rough. “I know… I want to fuck you against this wall so badly I can barely think straight.”
His crude words made me shudder with want, and I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood to keep from moaning out loud. His scent was wrapping around me now—pine and sandalwood and raw masculine dominance that made the omega in me purr with contentment even as my mind reeled at how desperate we both were.
For the first time in seven days, the nausea completely dissipated and the gnawing ache in my chest began to ease, replaced by a different kind of ache entirely.
“Hey!” The guard’s sharp voice cut through our stolen moment. “What’s going on over there?”
Dominic stepped back immediately, hands raised, but his eyes held mine with blazing intensity. My face burned with embarrassment and arousal as I turned around, trying to compose myself despite the obvious evidence of my body’s response.
“Nothing inappropriate,” Blake said smoothly, moving to stand between us and the approaching guard. “Just omega welfare compliance. Scenting is specifically allowed under federal bonding statutes.”
The guard looked suspicious but seemed unsure of the exact regulations. “Visit’s over,” he announced. “Time to go.”
“Ten more minutes,” Blake said, trying to distract him.
Too late now.
My heart sank. The time we were allotted felt like nothing when measured against seven days of separation and a lifetime of questions ahead of us.
“Time to go, Steele,” the guard said sternly. His boots squeaked against the linoleum floor as he advanced on Dominic, metal handcuffs dangling from his hand with an ominous jingle.