Page 9 of His Problem Alpha
For a long moment, neither of us moves. We're locked together, both physically and in some other way I don't have the capacity to examine right now.
Alex's weight presses me into the mattress, his breath hot and ragged against my neck.
I should feel uncomfortable. This should be the most awkward moment of my life.
Instead, it feels like coming home.
The thought is so terrifying it almost sobers me up.
As the first wave of heat recedes, my mind clears in patches. The mess hits me first—torn clothes, soaked sheets, the heavy, mingled scent of sex and heat and alpha that saturates the air. Then I feel Alex—heavy against me, still deep inside me, his knot a physical tether tying us together.
And then I remember. My brain reboots for a split second, and the data is horrifying: I begged. I whined. I bit him like a feral animal. My carefully constructed persona is a smoking crater on the floor.
Mortification crashes over me. I remember my own begging, the words echoing in my head. The desperate pleas, the shameless way I spread my legs, the animal sounds I made. I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to look at him.
"Devon?" Alex's voice is soft, uncertain. "Are you okay?"
I want to say something cutting. Something that will put distance between us, reestablish the boundaries we've just obliterated.
But before I can form the words, I feel it—the heat building again, just as strong as before.
The brief moment of clarity slips away as my body temperature spikes once more.
"No," I whisper, panic and a shameful, traitorous relief warring in my voice. "It's starting again. I can't—"
"Shh," Alex soothes, shifting us carefully onto our sides, his knot still locked inside me. "I've got you. We'll get through this."
The position change sends a jolt of pleasure through me as his knot presses against something deep inside. I gasp, my cock already hardening again despite having just come. The emptiness I thought we'd filled is returning, a gnawing, desperate need that won't be satisfied with just one coupling.
"How long?" I manage to ask, my voice breaking. "How long does this last?"
Alex brushes sweat-soaked hair from my forehead, the gesture so unexpectedly tender it makes my chest ache. "First heats are unpredictable," he says, his voice still rough. "Could be hours. Could be a day or two."
A day or two of this? Of being completely at the mercy of my own body? Of needing Alex so desperately I can't think straight? I should be terrified by that thought. Instead, some primal part of me purrs in satisfaction.
"I can't do this," I whisper, even as my body arches against him, seeking more friction.
"You can," Alex says firmly. "And you're not doing it alone. I'm here."
I force my eyes open, needing to see his face. What I find there knocks the breath from my lungs.
His expression is open, raw in a way I've never seen before.
The usual guardedness is gone, replaced by something fierce and protective that makes my chest ache.
It's not the look of someone fulfilling an obligation or helping in an emergency.
It's the look of an alpha claiming what's his. Protecting what belongs to him.
It's terrifying. More terrifying than the heat itself. And somehow, it feels right in a way that scares me even more. This connection, this glimpse of the real Alex beneath the brooding exterior—this is something I don't know how to fight.
Before I can process what I'm seeing, the heat surges again, stronger this time. My body clenches around his knot, which has only just begun to subside. Alex hisses, his eyes darkening again as his own instincts respond to my need.
"Again?" he asks, though it's not really a question. He can smell my arousal, feel my body's response.
"Again," I confirm, surrendering to the inevitable. "I need—"
"I know what you need," he interrupts, his voice dropping back to that low alpha register that makes me shiver. "And I'm going to give it to you. All of it."
His mouth finds mine, swallowing my response. This kiss is different from the first—still desperate, still hungry, but with an undercurrent of something else. Something that feels dangerous and essential all at once.
The next wave takes me under completely.
My world narrows to sensation—Alex's hands on my skin, his cock inside me, his voice in my ear telling me how good I am, how perfect, how well I'm taking him.
Time loses all meaning. There is only need and fulfillment, emptiness and being filled, over and over until I'm raw and exhausted and can't remember a time before this.
I lose track of how many times we couple, how many positions we try.
Alex seems inexhaustible, driven by alpha instinct to satisfy his omega's heat.
My omega. I hear him mutter it once, against my neck, and the thought should be repulsive.
Instead, it feels right in a way I'm too exhausted to examine.
Eventually, after what could be hours or days, the heat begins to wane.
The desperate edge dulls, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion that makes my limbs feel like lead.
Alex is still inside me, his knot locking us together one final time, his body curled protectively around mine.
He smells of sex and sweat and something deeply comforting.
"Sleep," he murmurs against my ear, his voice rough from overuse. "I've got you."
I want to protest. Want to maintain some semblance of independence, of the person I was before this started. But my body has other ideas. The combination of heat exhaustion and physical exertion pulls me under, dragging me toward unconsciousness.
As darkness claims me, I'm aware of Alex's arms tightening around me, his scent wrapping around me like a blanket. It feels safe. It feels right.
My last coherent thought isn't about hatred or humiliation, but a terrifying, whispered question to a universe I no longer understand: What was that look in his eyes?