I guess it shocked me that it happened in my place, on my watch.
Or that it happened to this pretty, soft girl.
No matter the cause, my protective instincts went from dormant to wide awake and roaring inside my head.
Keep her safe.
Keep her hidden.
Keep her comfortable.
I drift in and out of dreams. They are uneasy and tense. I find myself crushing her to my chest every time I wake up.
Damn.
I don’t sleep well on most nights, and tonight I find myself staring into the darkness for hours, which is unfortunate. I have too many bad memories to chew on.
Her scent, her silky hair when I bow my head and bury my face in it, is soothing. I try to let myself drown in her sweetness and not think; just exist in this stolen moment where I’m allowed to relax, to hold this girl without limitations, without constraints and obligations.
I don’t have to be good for her, to provide for her and take care of her after tonight, and tonight I get to enjoy it, let my alpha instincts take over. It’s such a huge fucking relief.
Tomorrow is another story.
Tomorrow I’ll be gone from here and never return.
But the moment she wakes up, moaning softly and blinking sleepily up at me, I know this was a bad idea. I should never have stayed. After all, it hadn’t been my original intention. I had decided to drive her home, check that she locked her door and leave.
As any sane man would have done.
Any sane man who hasn’t spent entire evenings staring at this pink-haired omega dancing away in his bar, drinking and laughing and singing with her friends.
Any man who values his sanity.
Still, I rally my reason and energy to sit up.
Only that presses her round tits against my chest and her tilted-back head shows me the pale expanse of her neck where I ache to kiss her, the skin I want to lathe with my tongue, bite and leave a hickey on…
Fuck.
“Atticus?” she whispers, her voice a little raspy from sleep. “Is it really you?”
I give her a wry smile. “Yeah, it’s really me.”
“Why are you...?” She shifts and grimaces. “Ow.”
Instantly, I’m on high alert. “What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?”
“... my neck.” She makes a face. “I have a crick in my neck. Did I sleep on top of you?”
That conjures some very fucking hot images of Coco on top of me, riding my cock, letting me feast on her tits, her pink hair sliding over me.
Yeah, and then pink birds sang and a unicorn came to bring you breakfast.
“Coco…”
She slides a hand up my chest and I feel its heat through the fine cotton. Her lips part, her breath goes out. She looks like she wants to kiss me, and my cock is already hard in my pants. It would be so damn easy to tumble her in these sheets, on this bed, take her fast and hard, fuck her mouth with my dick, then push into her and make her scream.
I grunt. “Coco, listen...”
