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Emmie

Dinner is at a small Italian place six blocks from the hotel.

Beck keeps his hand on the small of my back as we walk, guiding me around puddles and through crosswalks with the serene confidence of someone who owns whatever space he occupies.

But it’s his touch that makes my body pop with goosebumps.

“Tell me about this new job,” he says once we're seated in a corner booth that feels more intimate than it should.

I twist my napkin between my fingers. “It’s...administrative. Nothing exciting.” I’ve been warned not to tell anyone anything, but then I was also warned not to leave the room.

“Administrative work can be very rewarding,” he says, but there’s amusement dancing in his eyes. “Lots of...filing.”

“So much filing,” I agree, and he laughs. The server comes and takes our order.

“You’re a terrible liar, Emmie. It’s adorable.”

“Is it?”

“It is, but I won’t push you until you’re ready to talk to me.”

“We’re talking,” I insist.

The wine he orders is expensive and delicious. It also goes to my head faster than the vodka did. Or maybe that’s just him—the way he leans forward when I talk, like every word matters. The way his fingers brush mine when he reaches for the bread basket. The way his dark gray eyes look into mine.

“What do you do?” I ask when the server clears our plates.

“I solve problems,” he says. “Usually for people who have more money than sense.”

“That’s wonderfully vague.”

“I could be more specific, but then I’d have to kill you.

” His grin takes the edge off the joke, but something in his eyes suggests it might not be entirely a joke.

The smart thing would be not asking for any more details about his job, his life, and certainly not his intentions.

He’s older than me, whatever is happening here doesn’t need me knowing any of these things. So I don’t push for more information.

But I do find myself leaning closer, drawn by the warmth radiating from his skin and the way he smells.

I know he’s an Alpha, but luckily for me, not a scent match.

I’ve resigned myself to never finding one of those.

But his smell is amazing. As well as honey, he has this delicious masculine, musky scent that sends shivers down my back.

I’ve never smelled anything quite like it. Yet, I still know he’s not mine.

“How old are you, Emmie?” The question comes out of nowhere, quiet and serious.

“Twenty-one.” I lift my chin, daring him to make an issue of it.

“Christ.” He runs a hand through his hair, and for the first time tonight, he looks uncertain. “I should take you back to the hotel and leave you be.”

“Should,” I repeat. “But you won’t.” It’s a fact, and we both know it. Whatever this is between us—this pull, this electricity— it’s bigger than good sense, scent matches, appropriate age gaps or the fact that we’re essentially strangers.

“No,” he says finally. His eyes are on mine. “I won’t.”

At the hotel, he presses the panel on the elevator, straight to the top floor.

He opens the door for me, but I linger at the entrance like a teenager at her first party. It’s not like I don’t know why I’m here. We’re just two people, an Omega and an Alpha, about to do the most natural thing we do.

Fuck. It’s not like I’m a virgin. I made sure of that when I thought Mom was going to allow Blake to breed me. But I am a virgin with regards to a knot. I swallow as I look around the room.

His hotel room is three floors above mine and twice the size. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a panoramic view of the harbor, but I turn away. I’m too focused on the way Beck moves around the space like he owns the entire city.

He takes the tie he loosened earlier from his pocket and places it on the table and picks up a bottle of bourbon.

I’m suddenly nervous.

“Come here,” he says, not turning around as he pours himself a drink. My feet move before my brain catches up, carrying me across the plush carpet until I’m standing close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body.

“Nervous?” he asks, finally turning to face me.

“Should I be?”

His hand comes up to cup my cheek, thumb brushing across my lower lip. “I’m going to take very good care of you tonight, baby girl. But if you want to leave, now’s the time to say so.”

The way his eyes darken as they trace over my body makes me feel like a precious piece of art.

Instead of answering, I rise up on my toes and press my lips to his.

The kiss is soft at first, almost tentative, but then his free hand slides into my hair and everything changes.

He tastes like whiskey and dark promises, and when his tongue sweeps across mine, I make a sound that’s a half gasp, half whimper.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs against my mouth, and the endearment sends heat spiraling through my chest and my pussy gushes with slick. His eyes close as he inhales. “So sweet for me already.”

His hands find the zipper at the back of my dress, and I should probably feel self-conscious as the fabric pools at my feet. Instead, I feel powerful. Desired.

“Beautiful,” he breathes, backing me toward the bed. “So fucking beautiful, baby girl. Look at you.”

I’m wearing my nicest underwear—black lace that I bought at a half-price sale—but under his gaze, I feel like I’m wearing diamond-encrusted lingerie.

“Beck,” I start, but he silences me with another kiss, this one hungrier, more demanding.

“What do you need?” he asks, settling me back against the pillows. “Tell Daddy what you need.”

My eyes open wide. The word should shock me. Should make me push him away and demand he take me back to my room. Instead, I arch toward him, seeking more contact, more pressure, more of whatever this is.

“I don’t know,” I admit, and it’s the truth. I’ve had sex before—it was more of a fumbling encounter with a boy my age and he was more concerned with his own pleasure than mine. But this feels different.

“That’s okay, baby girl.” His mouth finds the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder, and I shiver. “Daddy’s going to teach you exactly what you need.”

His hands map my body with the patience of someone who has all the time in the world, finding places that make me gasp and arch and forget my name. When he finally settles his head between my thighs, I’m already trembling.

“So responsive,” he murmurs, pressing open-mouthed kisses along my inner thigh. “Such a good girl for me. Daddy’s going to make you feel so good, baby. Going to take such good care of this perfect little body.”

The first touch of his tongue makes me cry out, back arching off the bed. He chuckles against me; the vibration sends fresh waves of sensation through my core.

“That’s it,” he coaches, his voice muffled but warm with approval. “Let me hear how good it feels. Let Daddy know what his good girl needs.”

My eyes roll into the back of my head. If someone told me I’d like the words coming out of his mouth, I’d have laughed in their faces. But with Beck, I’m losing track of time, lost in the rhythm of his mouth and the filthy praise he whispers between kisses and loving everything he does and says.

When the first orgasm hits, it’s with an intensity that leaves me shaking and gasping his name.

“So beautiful when you come for me,” he says, kissing his way back up my body. “You make such pretty sounds. Daddy loves hearing how good he makes you feel.”

I’m still floating when he reaches for the nightstand drawer, and the sight of him rolling on a condom brings reality rushing back. This is happening. This is really happening.

“You still with me, baby?” he asks, settling over me. He looks bigger, broader, and more solid, and something about being caged beneath him makes me feel small and safe and precious.

“Yes,” I breathe, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Good girl.” He lines himself up, pressing just the tip inside. “Gonna go slow, baby. I'm gonna make sure this perfect little pussy takes every inch of Daddy’s cock before I knot you.”

The stretch is intense. I’ve never had sex with an Alpha, and his cock is so big. He keeps up a steady stream of praise as he works himself deeper.

“Taking...me…so…well…” he murmurs, punctuating each word with a gentle thrust. “Such a good girl, opening up for Daddy. Feels like you were made for my cock, baby girl. Made for me.”

When he’s finally seated fully inside me, we both go still. His eyes are on mine, making the connection between us overwhelming. It’s not just physical, but something deeper. Something that makes my chest tight and my eyes sting with unexpected emotion.

“Okay?” he asks, and I nod because I don’t trust my voice.

“Perfect,” he says, starting to move. “Absolutely perfect. Look how well you fit around me, baby girl. It’s like this sweet little cunt was designed just for Daddy’s cock.”

The dirty talk should embarrass me, but instead, it makes me clench around him, drawing a groan from deep in his chest.

“Fuck, yes,” he breathes, picking up the pace. “I love feeling you squeeze me like that. Such a responsive little thing. Daddy’s good girl knows exactly how to take care of him.”

I lose myself in the rhythm, in the feeling of being filled and cherished. When he slides a hand between us to rub my clit, I come apart with a cry that echoes off the windows. And he still hasn’t knotted me.

“That’s my girl,” he praises, his hips moving faster and faster.

“Knot me. Please knot me.”

“What a good fucking girl you are.” He pinches my nipple hard, but the bite of pain only intensifies my pleasure. “Now you need to come around my knot.”

I moan as my hips buck against his, my tits bouncing with every deep thrust.

My fingers slide through his dark strands as he lowers his head and scrapes his teeth over my shoulder.

Slick gushes at the though of letting him claim me.

He’s so gorgeous, so caring, that I could tilt my neck and let him take me and make me his.

But I won’t. In reality, this is one night.

I could never imagine someone like him would ever be mine.

He thrusts hard. “That’s it. Let me in.”

I can’t do anything but let him take me.

His pheromones are making it hard for me to think of anything but him fully inside me.

But when his cock thickens and I’m sure I’m not getting his knot, I push against him, working my pussy over his length until his knot is pressing against every nerve ending.

“Fuck!” he snarls as he thrusts. His knot bumps once again against my opening and he stills.

“I’m…” I buck against him. He flattens his tongue against my neck, and I moan as another climax hits me harder than the last two.

And when his knot presses through the resistance and he fucks into me harder, his face contorts as hot cum fills the condom, and we lie in silence for a few moments.

He presses his hands either side of my head and stares at me. “So fucking good. If you weren’t so young, I’d keep you.” His tongue darts out, licking my bottom lip.

“I’d keep you if you weren’t so old.” The words come out harder than I expected.

When I wake, my heart sinks because I know I’m alone.

The bed still smells like him—his expensive cologne mixed with his sweet but somehow manly scent.

I roll over, my hand feeling where he slept, already knowing his side is cold.

When I reach for my phone on the nightstand and check the time 9:47 am; a piece of paper drops onto the floor. First, I check my cell, which shows three missed calls from Mom and a text.

Mom: Picked up the car. See you this evening.

My fingers unfold the note.

Emmie. I had to catch an early flight. Last night was incredible. You’re incredible. Take care of yourself. B

On the nightstand, I notice a stack of twenties. I count four hundred dollars. There’s also a business card for an upscale spa.

The money makes my cheeks burn. I hope he thought I could use a little pampering before starting my new life. But it feels like payment, like I’m something he bought for the night.

I shove the bills back onto the nightstand with the note and stumble toward the bathroom, needing to wash him away and forget last night ever happened.

I know that’s not going to be easy, but as tomorrow is the start of my new life, I have to remember that last night was just a beautiful mistake.

And when I catch sight of myself in the mirror—hair wild, lips still swollen, marks on my neck that will take days to fade—I can’t bring myself to regret anything.

Beck gave me something I didn’t know I needed. For one night, I was someone’s good girl. Someone’s priority. He took care of me, and I never knew how much I’d like that. For once, someone thought I was worth taking care of.

Even if it was just pretend.