Page 42 of Omega's Faith

Forget that. If he can’t take responsibility for both of us, then I will have to. I’m done feeling sorry for myself. He’s going to behave whether he likes it or not.

I push him back into the room, harder than I meant to, harder than I knew I could. He doesn’t move. He’s still an alpha and double my size. I can’t physically move him but his eyes widen in surprise.

"Stop treating me like I’m naive," I snarl, following him in and kicking the door shut. "Stop acting like you know what I need better than I do."

"I was just—"

"I know what you were doing." I advance on him, something predatory that I've never felt before rising in my chest. "Poor little virgin omega doesn’t know anything."

I push him againhard. I’m not strong enough to do him any damage or to even make much of an impact against his muscular chest. I don’t care. I shove him again. This time he lets me move him. His back hits the wall. "That's not—"

I press against him, full body contact that makes us both gasp. He's hard, cock pressing against my stomach through thin fabric, and the evidence of his desire makes me feel powerful in a way I've never experienced.

"Is this what you expected?" I ask, rolling my hips against him.

His hands come up to grip my waist, and I catch his wrists,pinning them to the wall. He could break free easily—he's stronger than me—but he doesn't. His breath catches, eyes going dark with something that looks like awe.

"Jonah," he breathes.

"No." I lean in, lips brushing his ear. "You don't get to tell me what to do. Not this time."

"You don't know what you're doing," he says, but his voice is breathless, affected.

"It’s notthatcomplicated," I pull back to look at him, letting him see the heat in my eyes, the determination.

Something flares in his expression: challenge accepted. "You have no idea what you're asking for."

"I think you’re going to do as I tell you and you’re going to like it."

He's pressed against the wall, and I'm right up against him, my body burning everywhere we touch.

"Make me," he says, and there's something bratty in his tone that makes heat pool in my belly.

I kiss him.

It's nothing like our wedding kiss—that was all him taking control. This is me claiming, demanding, taking what I need. I bite his bottom lip, swallow his gasp, lick into his mouth like I'm trying to devour him.

He moans, and the sound goes straight to my cock.

When I pull back, we're both panting. "Bed," I demand.

"Bossy little omega," he says, but he's moving, backing toward the massive bed that dominates his room.

"You love it," I shoot back, and the truth of it is written all over his face.

When the back of his knees hit the bed, I push him down. He falls back on his elbows, looking up at me with a mixture of lust and surprise that makes me feel drunk with power.

"Take them off," I order, nodding at his pants.

"Make me," he says again, but he’s grinning.

I’m going to wipe that grin off his face, make him sorry he ever messed with me.

I'm on him in a second, straddling his hips, grinding down against his erection. He groans, head falling back, and I take the opportunity to attack his throat, sucking a mark into the skin that will be visible for days.

"Fuck," he gasps, hips bucking up. "Jonah—"

"Off," I demand again, tugging at his waistband.