Page 79 of Altius (The Scent of Victory #2)

Forty-Nine

Morgan

I f Wyatt got to have his dream date during the day, I was going to play out my many years’ worth of sexual fantasies at night.

“Give me a five-minute head start?” I asked as we trudged into the lobby, knocking snow off our boots.

Wyatt gave me a searching gaze, even hotter than the flames flickering in the fireplace behind him—then obediently took our shopping bags and sat in the nearest armchair.

No questions asked. Zero hesitation. Just pure trust bundled up in a parka.

Absolutely irresistible.

Pulling out his phone, Wyatt started a timer and flashed a suggestive grin. “Clock’s ticking, baby.”

Giving him a parting wink, I replaced my neutral facade and crossed the lobby floor. Slipping into a nearly full elevator with a tipsy pack, I rode up to our mixed-designation floor of luxurious suites.

I had no idea who was paying for this weekend excursion—Cal, me, or some other mix of funds—but at that moment, I was immensely thankful for the separate living room. It was perfect for what I had in mind.

Shucking off my coat and boots, I turned on the gas fireplace, then left a deceptive trail of clothing items—gloves, hat, socks, sweater, and snow-sodden jeans—leading toward the bedroom.

I hung my panties on the doorknob, a beacon of pheromones. Then I tucked my bra behind the curtains by the headboard, resting on top of the heat register, which would amplify my scent.

Ducking into the bathroom, I grabbed the sample-sized bottle of scent-canceling spray from the counter and gave myself a quick spritz in the shower.

As much fun as it would be to pounce Wyatt naked, it was missing something…

Sifting through my luggage, I snagged the perfect piece of clothing to bring my scenario to life.

With seconds to spare, I ducked behind the leather armchair by the gas fireplace, on the opposite side of the suite from the bedroom door.

The lock beeped, and a hesitant Wyatt stepped inside, greeted by silence and flickering firelight.

“Baby?” he called softly, throwing the deadbolt behind him.

Huddled into a tight ball and holding my breath, I listened to the thud of his boots hitting the floor, followed by the rustle of plastic shopping bags settling on the kitchenette counter. Wyatt’s coat came last, flung across my hiding spot, sleeve nearly brushing the tip of my nose.

“Why are the lights off? What did you need—”

A ravenous purr and quick footsteps in the opposite direction meant that my bra or panties had done the trick.

Wyatt was on the prowl.

Inching forward, I peered around the side of the chair, catching a glimpse of his sculpted back as he stalked into the bedroom, his sweatshirt falling by the wayside.

Excellent.

Crawling forward, I eased up onto my knees, watching with immense satisfaction as he pulled back the curtains—and let out the most delectable snarl of disappointment.

“Very clever, baby.”

The rumble in his voice was so intense it made my toes tingle.

As he turned, sniffing the air, I caught a glimpse of his pale blue eyes—two glowing pools of moonlit lust.

Need stabbed me right in the gut.

I wanted those eyes locked on me, and only me, until daybreak. An impulse so overwhelming that it would have given away my location if not for the lingering cloud of scent-canceling spray.

When he strode into the bathroom, I got up and rushed into the bedroom, closing the door behind me with a soft click…but not soft enough to keep from drawing Wyatt’s attention.

He charged through the door, wearing only his boxers, the dense muscles of his thighs rippling as he approached. The outline of his girthy cock was all too obvious, straining against the thin fabric.

“Is this you giving up?” he asked, his purr deep yet indulgent. “Or do you have more torture in store for me?”

Holding his gaze, I pressed my back against the door, purposefully widening my eyes to reflect an innocence I’d never once possessed.

“Shh,” I playfully chided him, pressing a finger against my lips. “Your coach is right outside.”

His brows furrowed. “What?”

“Don’t you know how hard it was to sneak in here with all the extra security? They’d have disqualified me from the vault final if I got caught.”

Taking a small step forward, I tugged on the hem of my only item of clothing—an oversized Wakeland State t-shirt I liked to sleep in—emphasizing the outline of my bare breasts underneath.

“But I had to see you, Wyatt.” Looking up at him through my lashes, I pushed out my bottom lip and asked in a throaty murmur, “Didn’t you want to see me?”

“Morgan, is this…” His eyes raked down my bare legs and back up, lingering on my peaked nipples, before landing on my pouting mouth. “Are you pretending to be ten years younger right now?”

Slowly pulling off my glasses, I set them on the dresser as I padded closer. “Yes. And if I played my cards right, you should be dying to channel all the pent-up lust of a twenty-one-year-old virgin into the very willing, scantily clad omega who just snuck into your hotel room.”

Pausing an arm’s length from Wyatt, I raised a brow at him.

“Or do you want to chase me around the living room for a bit before you have your way with me?”

I taunted him with a sarcastic half-smile and pulled up my shirt just enough to reveal that I wasn’t wearing any panties.

His pupils shrank. Massive chest shuddering with each disbelieving breath. Fists clenched tight. Cock twitching within the confines of his boxers.

I leaned closer. “What’ll it be— alpha ?”

He lunged.

I darted, using my superior reflexes to rush to the window.

Just as Wyatt was about to grab me, I threw my bra into his face, a momentary distraction that allowed me to make a break for the living room.

I managed six steps before his muscular arm snagged me around the waist, hauling me backwards into the air, kicking and giggling. Despite having taunted his long-suffering alpha with an instinctual red flag, he manhandled me with utmost care.

Wyatt gently tossed me onto the bed—but I wasn’t about to go down without a fight.

Rolling toward the edge of the mattress, ready to make another break for it, I was unprepared for the double-whammy of his hand slapping my ass and his near-bark.

“Stay.”

My omega was all too desperate to comply.

Frozen on my elbows and left knee, right foot grazing the carpet, legs parted for him to do with as he pleased, I could only wait while Wyatt rummaged through his luggage.

The mattress dipped as he sank behind me, followed by the telltale snick of a plastic cap opening.

As Wyatt applied a generous amount of lube to my entrance, he let out a dark laugh. “Turns out being chased makes you wet.”

One thick finger sank into me, three knuckles deep.

“Almost wet enough for sex. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you? A quick, dirty fuck before your coach realizes you’re missing.”

“Have to be fast,” I moaned as he probed my depths. “If they find me, I’ll be disqualified—”

Another slap to my ass almost made me squeal.

“How’s that my problem?” After a series of quick, shallow thrusts, Wyatt withdrew his hand. “You’re the one who snuck in here practically naked, begging for my fat cock. To be fucked and knotted, again and again. Didn’t you?”

“Yes!”

A tantalizing thrum brushed against the back of my right knee, making my limbs tremble.

Wyatt had put on a fingertip vibrator.

He ran it up the length of my leg, then traced maddening circles over the still-stinging flesh of my ass.

“We’re not going to rush, Morgan. No, we’re going to take our time. Move nice and slow until you’ve come so many times on my tongue and fingers that I’ll smell like you for days.”

Slipping the vibrator between my legs, he zeroed in on my clit. The first few passes were nothing more than split-second thrills.

“Wyatt—”

“Roll over. Put both feet on the bed.”

Once again, I complied out of instinct.

“Open wider,” Wyatt said, dragging the vibrator across the entrance of my pussy. “I want to see what’s mine.”

My breath caught.

Belonging to Wyatt… Not just for one overdue bout of role-play… Wouldn’t that be perfect?

The vibrator stroked my clit, making me squirm and cry out.

“Don’t fight it, Morgan.” Sinking lower, Wyatt nipped at the generous flesh of my inner thigh. “You’re mine.”

A gasp and shaky nod were all I could manage.

Whether the agreement was of my own volition or my omega’s, I would never know.

***

Somewhere between my second and third orgasm, when the pressure of Wyatt’s growing knot became more insistent with every thrust, I started to lose control.

We were entwined to the point of melding together—my hands tangled in his hair, his lips tormenting my earlobe—our minimal height difference making it all too easy to suck on the sweaty skin of his neck, plunging headfirst into the hedonistic maze of his scent.

It went beyond intoxication. I was enthralled.

Riveted.

Addicted.

Drowning.

In his heat. The mystic blue of his eyes. His rich, resinous pheromones. Carried further away with each powerful undulation of his hips.

Even semi-inflated, his knot barely fit.

My nails raked across his shoulders, head thrashing, full to bursting before he was even fully inside. “Wait, wait, it won’t—”

But Wyatt was determined, wedging himself deeper within me, quarter inch by torturous quarter inch. “Trust me, baby. Just a little more…”

When his knot breached my pussy, locking us together, I buried my head in the crux of his shoulder and came with a keening wail.

My tongue tasted copper.

I’d scratched him hard enough to draw blood.

Ruby-red temptation that I hungrily lapped up, ignoring the ache in my incisors and the tension in my jaw.

But Wyatt wasn’t done with me yet.

The fingertip vibrator hummed to life once more, tracing the curves of my breasts and hips.

His long, sweat-slicked hair shrouded my face as I trembled beneath him. Drinking in his blood-tinged sweat, kiss by kiss, lick by lick, breath by breath.

Sparks flew as the vibrator found my clit.

I bore down on his knot, making Wyatt bellow as he tried to sink even deeper, as if he hadn’t already taken everything I had to give.

“Tight, so fucking tight,” he murmured, nipping at the side of my neck. “Almost like I’m your first.”

How could he still be in the mood to role-play?

What rational thought could possibly remain when the conquering pulse of his knot had yet to subside, filling me with surge after surge of hot cum?

Over-full, on the verge of being over-stimulated.

“God, baby… You feel like fucking heaven. I love it—I love you.” Wyatt flexed his hips in time with the subtle undulations of the vibrator.

Slick with lube and cum, the vibrator abruptly slipped lower, sending shockwaves through the point where Wyatt and I were fused together, setting me aflame.

Back arched, mouth falling open with a silent scream, my nails drew fresh blood along his back and shoulders.

Yes, blood. I wanted more blood.

Blood and the potent greenery of boxwoods. The essence of Wyatt.

Surrounding me, deep inside me, claiming me, making me his—forever.

No.

Not his.

“ Mine .”

Searing heat. A vise-like pressure wringing me for all I was worth. Tingles at the base of my spine.

Euphoria.

An emotion I hadn’t felt in years—not since the accident—and never to such an overwhelming degree.

But it felt slightly dulled, almost like a powerful echo. As if I was eavesdropping on someone else’s feelings.

Wait.

A fresh wave of pungent copper surged into my mouth…

The mouth biting into Wyatt’s dense right pec.

Marking him.

Claiming him.

I’d claimed Wyatt.

No, no, no.

Rearing back in horror, I tried to free myself from his knot, but it was too big, lodged too deep.

Strong arms held me tight, trying to soothe me, while honeyed words encouraged me to stop struggling.

But I couldn’t.

That would mean having to face what I’d done.

Without consent.

I was the worst kind of hypocrite. A selfish liar who—

“Morgan, stop.” Wyatt’s alpha compulsion was just like him: thoughtful, unflinchingly devoted, and undeniable. “Whatever you’re feeling right now, it’s wrong. It’s so wrong I can’t stand it.”

“I bit you!”

“Claimed me,” he said, holding me tight, stroking the back of my head and purring so hard it was almost a croon. “Bonded with me. Made me yours.”

“We were supposed to wait until my heat. Have talked it through and agreed. Made sure we both wanted this. Filed paperwork. Not like this, not like this . Wyatt, I didn’t mean to, and I’m so—”

Firm lips silenced me, forcing my apology back into the churning chaos of my gullet. “No apologies. Ever.”

His eyes were so intensely blue that I couldn’t look away. Couldn’t think.

Or maybe it was the hypnotic pull of the bond forming between us, transmitting a steady thrum of contentment and joy that overrode my panic, until I had no choice but to believe him.

“Y-you’re happy?” I stammered.

Wyatt kissed the center of my forehead and let out a massive purr, blanketing me in pure bliss. My tension melted away, leaving me limp and on the verge of sleep.

“Happiest moment of my life,” he whispered.

The invisible line sparkling between us left no room for doubt.

Our bond may have been an accident, but it wasn’t a mistake.