Page 13 of The Sterling Acquisition (Manufactured Mates #1)

But Dante’s words were painting vivid pictures that turned the trickle of slick he had been trying to ignore into a gush.

“I’m going to suck marks into your skin,” Dante continued, his free hand sliding down to rest against Orion’s chest. “Mark you up so everyone knows you’ve been claimed. Then I’m going to get my mouth on your cock and find out what you taste like.”

“Stop talking,” Orion demanded.

“I’m going to make you come with my tongue, then with my fingers, then with my tongue again until you’re oversensitive and shaking.” Dante’s hand moved lower. “I want to finger you open while I suck your cock, and to feel how tight and hot you are while you’re cumming down my throat.”

The graphic promises sent heat shooting through Orion’s body.

“You’re sick,” he managed.

“I’m honest about what I want to do to you.” Dante’s fingers found the hem of Orion’s shirt, and his touch was possessive.

Dante’s confidence was absolute as his hand slipped under Orion’s shirt. “You’re going to beg me to touch you, beg me to fuck you, beg me to claim you and make you mine.”

The skin-to-skin contact made Orion gasp despite himself, his body arching into the touch he was verbally rejecting.

“Look at that,” Dante said with savage satisfaction. “ Your body knows what it needs even if your mouth won’t admit it.”

“My body doesn’t need anything from you,” Orion snarled, but even as he said it, Dante’s thumb found his nipple and the sensation shot straight to his cock.

“Liar.” Dante pinched his nipple hard, making Orion bite back a moan. “Your body is crying out for an Alpha who knows how to handle you. How to make you feel good while you fight me.”

Why does that sound so appealing? Why does the idea of fighting him while he makes me cum sound like exactly what I want?

“Fuck you.”

“Eventually.” Dante’s hand moved down his body with increasing confidence, and despite every protest Orion made, he only felt himself grow harder. And wetter. “But first, I’m going to make you fall apart with just my hands. I want to see how desperate I can make you before you start begging.”

This is wrong. This is what you swore would never happen .

But when Dante’s hand moved to his waistband, when those confident fingers found the evidence of his arousal, Orion couldn’t suppress the sharp intake of breath.

“Fuck, you’re so hard,” Dante whispered in his ear. “Hard and wet and perfect for me.”

“Don’t,” Orion gasped, but the word came out more plea than command.

“Too late.” Dante’s hand moved with expert precision. “I’m going to stroke your cock until you’re shaking, until you’re begging me not to stop. Then I’m going to do it again, and again, until the only thing you can think about is how good I make you feel.”

The explicit promises combined with skilled touch were systematically destroying every defense Orion built, and despite his protests, despite his verbal resistance, he was responding as Dante predicted.

“You want this,” Dante continued. “You want me to take control, want me to make you feel good while you fight me.”

“I hate you,” Orion gasped, but his body was already moving against Dante’s hand despite the words.

“Good.” Dante smirked. “I want you to hate me while I make you cum.”

His touch became more focused, more ruthless, and Orion found himself caught between the wall and the Alpha’s body, unable to escape the relentless attention.

“Cum for me,” Dante groaned in his ear. “Stop fighting and let me make you feel good, you beautiful, stubborn, perfect little brat.”

And despite every promise he made to himself, despite every wall he built, despite his anemic protests—Orion’s body obeyed.

The orgasm tore through him with devastating intensity, leaving him gasping and shaking against the wall while Dante held him through it with possessive satisfaction .

Oh god. What did I just do?

“Beautiful,” Dante murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction and something that sounded dangerously like affection. “Absolutely fucking beautiful”

The casual possessiveness in his tone, the satisfaction, the way he was looking at Orion like he’d just proven something important—it brought the fury rushing back with incandescent force.

“Get off me,” Orion snapped, and this time his body responded the way he wanted it to. He shoved against Dante’s chest, hard enough to make the Alpha step back.

“Orion—”

“Don’t.” Orion’s voice was sharp with rage—at Dante, at himself, at the situation. “Don’t say a word.”

But Dante was smiling, and that made Orion want to hit him.

“You enjoyed that,” Dante said. “Whatever you’re telling yourself right now, you enjoyed every second of it.”

I hate that you’re right. I hate that I enjoyed it. I hate that I want you to do it again.

Instead of admitting any of that, Orion did what came naturally when an Alpha pushed too far.

He bit him.

Not a calculated attack—just pure reactive fury. His teeth found the meat of Dante’s bicep through his shirt, and he bit down hard enough to draw blood, hard enough to make the Alpha hiss with pain.

“Fuck,” Dante gasped, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he seemed to lean into it. “Yes. There you are.”

The Alpha’s reaction was unexpected, unsettling. Most Alphas would respond to such an attack with immediate violence or punishment. Dante sounded... pleased. Almost triumphant, like Orion’s aggression was what he’d been hoping for .

What kind of Alpha wants to be hurt?

Orion released him and stepped back, tasting copper on his tongue and feeling a savage satisfaction at the evidence of damage he’d done, even as confusion settled in his stomach.

“There I am what?”

“There’s the fight I was wondering about.” Dante touched his arm where blood was seeping through his shirt. “I was starting to think you’d given up.”

Given up? I just bit you hard enough to scar.

“You think I’m going to thank you for what just happened?”

“I think you’re going to spend the rest of the night thinking about it.” Dante’s confidence was unshakeable, infuriating. “I think you’re going to remember how it felt to let someone touch you, and you’re going to want it again.”

Orion’s mind was already calculating consequences and opportunities. If Dante wanted him this badly, it created leverage–a weakness to exploit. But it also created risk; an Alpha this fixated was unpredictable and dangerous. The power dynamics had shifted in ways Orion couldn’t fully assess yet.

What was clear: Dante was revealing vulnerabilities that hadn’t been visible before. His corporate mask cracked, showing something raw and human beneath. Information that could be useful if Orion survived long enough to use it.

“You’re delusional.”

“I’m observant. And what I observed is that you respond beautifully when someone knows what they’re doing.”

The accuracy and arrogance of the statement made Orion want to bite him again. Instead, he settled for the most cutting response he could manage .

“Congratulations. You managed to make a touch-starved virgin cum. What a remarkable achievement.”

But instead of looking embarrassed or defensive, Dante’s eyes sharpened with interest.

“Virgin,” he repeated softly. “I wondered about that.”

Shit. You just gave him information he can use against you.

“Don’t get any ideas.”

“Too late.” Dante smirked. “I’m getting all sorts of ideas.”

The way he looked at Orion when he said it—like he was already planning how to use that information—made it clear that this conversation was heading somewhere dangerous.

Time to leave. Time to get out of here before he decides to act on those ideas.

“The suppressants worked,” Orion said, changing the subject with the subtlety of a brick through a window. “Pre-heat symptoms are manageable now.”

“Good. That should give you a clearer head for decision-making.”

Decision-making about what? Whether to let you own me or run for the hills?

Orion moved toward the door, putting distance between himself and the Alpha who’d just systematically destroyed his self-control. “I should get back before Leo returns.”

“Should you?”

The question carried implications that made Orion stop mid-step.

“Yes. I should.”

“Or,” Dante said softly, “you could stay here. Spend the night somewhere other than a cage. Make decisions about your future from a position of clarity rather than desperation.”

Stay here. In his territory. Where his scent is everywhere and he’s just proven he can make you forget every promise you’ve made to yourself.

“And what would I owe you for that hospitality?”

“Nothing. Consider it a product demonstration.”

Like what just happened against the wall.

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

“I’m not asking you to sleep with me. I’m asking you to sleep somewhere safe while you consider your options.”

The reasonable tone, the practical framing—it was the kind of offer that sounded logical on the surface while being loaded with implications underneath.

This is how it starts. This is how Alphas convince Omegas that dependency is a choice.

“My options being various forms of ownership.”

“Your options being realistic responses to your current situation.” Dante moved closer, but not close enough to feel threatening.

Yet. “Leo will be back eventually. Dr. Morrison’s timeline hasn’t changed.

Tomorrow is going to bring the same problems whether you spend tonight in a cage or on a couch. ”

“And you’re offering the couch out of purely altruistic motives.”

“I’m offering the couch because you deserve one night of not sleeping on a shitty mattress in a locked room.” Dante’s tone was matter-of-fact. “Whether you choose to see that as altruism or strategy is up to you.”

The honesty was more devastating than any pretty lie would have been. Because it acknowledged the complexity of the situation without trying to pretend the offer was purely selfless.

He wants something from you. But he’s also not wrong about you deserving basic dignity.

“One night,” Orion said, weighing his options with cold precision.

A night in Dante’s apartment meant vulnerability—sleeping in an Alpha’s territory was risky, especially after what had just happened against the wall.

But it also meant information gathering, a chance to study his potential escape route, and most importantly, hours outside that cage.

Freedom, even temporary, was a tactical advantage he couldn’t afford to reject. And if Dante tried anything while he slept, well—Orion had survived worse. He grew up learning to sleep with one eye open.

“On the couch. And if you try anything—”

“You’ll bite me again.” Dante’s smile was unrepentant. “I’m looking forward to it.”

The response was unsettling; an Alpha who welcomed resistance rather than punishing it. Another piece of the puzzle that didn’t fit Orion’s experience.

Information. Everything is information you can use later.

“Fine,” he said. “One night. But this doesn’t change anything between us.”

“Doesn’t it?” Dante asked softly.

And as Orion looked at him—at the blood seeping through his shirt, at the satisfied expression, at the way he was looking at Orion like he’d just confirmed something important—he had the sinking feeling that everything had, in fact, irrevocably changed.

Whether he was ready for it or not.