Savage Prince by Alison Aimes
38
“Off with these boots, female.” Maxheim tossed the first of Tess’s ice-caked boots over his shoulder, then the next, as laughter filled the room. Probably because he’d just finished tossing her onto their bed.
They’d gone sledding with Tess’s young friends and the family, minus Nikolai and Dahlia who’d chosen to use Jaxson’s nap time for exactly the kind of activity Maxheim would have preferred, but since neither Tess nor Lottie, Flora, or Betta had ever been sledding, off they went.
Because the only thing as good as fucking his omega was watching her eyes light up as she tried something new.
Or the way she’d looked at him when she’d been reunited with her friends.
They’d found the younger omegas exactly where Byrel had said. They’d been locked in the ship, worried for Tess and eagerly awaiting her arrival. Byrel had kept up the fiction that he was a slave like them. He’d also failed to tell them about Aldar’s death. He’d told them instead that they were all on the run and that they’d have to continue to steal to save and support themselves—once they had Tess with them.
How he’d intended to spin it once he recaptured Tess would never be known.
Because in the end, despite his selfishness and his greed, Byrel had protected her just as he’d told himself he was doing all along.
There was not a cell in Maxheim’s body that was sorry both Rav Byrel and Caden Hawke were now space worm food, but he’d always be grateful to the silver-skinned male for helping to guard Tess when it mattered most.
And though he knew a part of his omega still grieved for the male, it definitely helped her to have been reunited with her friends. She was used to taking care of them and, since he took care of her, that meant they were now under Skolov protection and installed in the guest wing of the Skolov compound. It might take them time to figure out what came next, but in the meantime, Dahlia and Nikolai had inherited a new set of caretakers for Jaxson.
Plus, Anya, gods help him, had found a new crowd of young females to run with. He could have sworn he’d overheard her discussing the most effective pickpocketing techniques with two of the older ones the other rotation, but that couldn’t be . . . could it?
He’d need to keep a closer watch.
The only trouble was, there was someone else that was proving very distracting.
Especially when she smiled up at him from their bed.
“What about the mess?” Flushed from the cold, her gorgeous eyes still sparkling with excitement, Tess pushed onto her elbows, her dainty feet looking so tiny in his big hands.
“That’s nothing compared to the one I’m about to make,” he teased, his gaze shifting from her heaving, lush tits to the sweet valley between her legs.
All his.
Just like the rest of her, including her heart, her trust, her faith.
And her lust.
He saw it now in her eyes as they darkened and sunk to half mast, her nipples tightening as her hips shifted restlessly on the bed, and her protest about any potential mess ended.
She was finally beginning to understand that all the luxuries he gave her were just things, while she . . . she was infinitely more precious.
“Clothes next.” He commanded. “You’re soaked.”
She smiled up at him. “True.”
His dick, already hard, pressed against the laces of his trousers. He registered her meaning easily enough. His mouth watered.
He tugged at her trouser legs and—accompanied by her squeal—yanked them down and off her legs. They joined the rest of the pile of snow-covered clothes, leaving her in just his shirt.
The one she’d borrowed for sledding, her perfect tits pushing against the fabric, her thighs bared to his gaze.
He growled low. She was so beautiful. So precious. Every inch of her silver skin his greatest treasure. He couldn’t wait to taste her on his tongue. Feel her wet, pink little cunt gripping him tight.
She rubbed the ball of her foot down the ridges of his abdomen, and—unlike him, whose brain had nearly ceased to function when all the blood rushed south—recalled the train of their conversation. “Soaked and grateful.” She teased him right back. “Much is owed to the brave male who saved me from a ruthless attack and took down the enemy. I wonder how I should thank him?”
She was referring to his idiot brothers who’d dared to lob a snowball at her.
Retaliation had been swift and savage, and he suspected both Damien and Alexi would be finding snow in unwanted places for weeks to come, but for a moment her words brought back a different incident, his thoughts turning to the battle in the tunnels where he’d almost lost her.
His chest went tight.
It had been two weeks, and he was still not fully recovered. The laser burn mark on her arm was already fading to a silvery gray, but the savage need to lock her away and keep her safe remained a constant drumbeat in his veins.
He realized it always would.
He’d begun to accept that what he felt for her was a force so raw, fierce, and ungovernable that it would always wage war within him. A beast that could not be tamed, inside a male who lived for control.
But he lived for Tess more.
Her happiness and her trust in him—in them together—was essential. So, he was learning to live with his darker urges rather than let them take him over. Learning to talk with her about his plans, and the concerns beneath rather than shutting her out. Learning to make time to take her and her friends sledding—after he’d bundled her up and made sure she was warm and safe and understood she’d be sharing a sled with him and no one else.
Growth edges, as the doctor had said. Or baby steps, according to his asshole brothers who still enjoyed pushing his buttons.
Either way, he was doing it.
There was no life for him without Tess in it, and as Nikolai had once so wisely said, that was both the greatest of gifts and the most terrifying of realties. Especially to someone like him who might have preferred no vulnerabilities at all.
But not at the cost of never having loved his omega.
The same could be said of his family, but thinking of them at a time like this was a definite no.
Just like the rest of their troubles.
Current circumstances were far from settled, but given the way his family had stepped up to stand by his and Tess’s side, he had no doubt they’d not only survive whatever was thrown at them next, but come out on top.
Byrel’s confession had been enough to call off the Brotherhood Council’s demand to hand over Tess, their need for blood and retaliation soothed by Byrel’s confession that he and Hawke were responsible for the recent auction hits against the Brotherhood.
Sure, there were those within the syndicate who found it all a bit too convenient. The Kuril family had wanted to push on and demand the omega or else. Same with a few other Brotherhood heads.
Damien, too, had been all ready to go to war in return. Taking out Hawke’s death squad had only whetted his appetite and left him more determined to smear as much Brotherhood blood across his horns and fangs as possible. The Sartins, in particular.
Maxheim had talked him down with Alexi and Nikolai’s help, but given what they’d learned from Byrel about the Sartin’s involvement in the abduction of their baby brother, it hadn’t been an easy call.
But it was the right one. Going in lasers blazing wasn’t going to get them their brother back and might even risk his life. A subtler offensive was needed and, much to everyone’s surprise, Alexi had volunteered to take it on.
He was already dealing with the Sartin’s about Maxheim’s broken prime omega contract. Though neither Maxheim nor Alexi were in an appeasing mood any longer, they’d agreed Alexi could pretend to be—if it got him useful information.
So, the hunt for the twins continued, as did the search for the nameless enemy still out there seeking to destroy the Skolovs and the Brotherhood.
But all of those were concerns for another moment.
Maxheim was done putting off all his happiness for a later rotation. Life was too short. His time with Tess too precious to waste.
“I do like the way you thank me.” Banishing all other thoughts, he shifted his hold and, wrapping his hand around her ankle, dragged her to the edge of the bed, his thighs between her legs so she was forced to spread them wide.
For a moment, he just looked. Savored.
Her blue-streaked, raven was a gorgeous waterfall as it spread across their furs.
Her shirt rode up to reveal her soft belly and the glistening pink of her folds.
Best of all, the golden dark bands at her throat and wrists traveled all the way around in a perfect circle of unity and fusion—a match to the ones at his own wrists.
Their marks were visible for all the galaxy to see. His claim on her undeniable.
Pride and need, tenderness and lust, possession and protectiveness, surged inside him once more.
“Maxheim.” She felt it too. Love and desire thickened her voice. A soft purr of contentment welled from her chest.
He swallowed hard. He’d never get enough of that sound.
“Maybe I could thank you as I did the other night?” She licked her lips.
He growled low once more.
He’d fixed the crack in the ice castle he’d given her. A small mark remained, but it was barely noticeable now and, thanks to a new poxy he’d been working on, the whole sculpture was stronger than ever. Unbreakable, in fact.
She’d been so happy with his surprise, she’d sucked his cock. For hours.
It had been heaven, and definitely something he wanted to repeat.
But not now.
“You know what I want.”
She moaned, cheeks flushing as she spread her legs.
He dove in, burying his tongue in her sweet pussy. Devouring. Licking. Fucking her with his tongue, just as he intended to do with his cock—and all the time, his need only spiraled higher.
“Oh, gods, Maxheim. Yes.”
Ever since that first time he’d tongued her sweet pussy on his shuttle, he could never get enough of the taste of her. The raw, wild sounds she made. The way she called out his name, her small hands fisting in his sheets. The way her body melted beneath him.
Every part of her, his.
Lifting her thighs over his shoulders so that her ass was tipped and lifted off the bed, he worked her harder, faster, one forearm locked over her hips to hold her in place while he feasted and she moaned and writhed beneath him.
“Oh, gods.”
He lapped at her clit like the feral brute he was. He added the vibration of his purr to his siege.
“Maxheim.” She shrieked his name—and he grinned. He loved making her lose control. Loved that she trusted him enough to let him lead her to the edge and over. “I-I need to come. Please.”
Crack. He spanked the seat of her lush ass. Not hard, but enough to get her attention—and add to her pleasure.
She squealed.
He growled. “How I want it. When I want it.” He sank his finger deep inside her. “You will wait for my command.”
More slick pearled on her folds. “Y-Yes, Alpha.”
They’d come so far, learned so much together about trust and control and the power of their bond when they worked together. But there was one place he would always take charge—for both their pleasure.
He buried himself between her thighs once more, working her good with his tongue and his finger, adding two more until her chest was heaving, his jaw was soaked with slick, and he knew she was close to the edge.
Without warning, he ripped his mouth away and flipped her over.
“Present, beautiful. Let me take us both over the edge. Together.”
That was all it took.
With a moan, she scrambled to her hands and knees, legs spread, back arched.
He’d never seen anything more beautiful.
“Mine.” Circling his hand around the band at her throat, he drove inside. Rocking his hips. Working himself in inch by inch. Grunting with every hard-earned advance.
And it was all worth it as her sweet sighs echoed through the room, and her channel softened and stretched as he laid siege.
Adjusting. Just as he had.
Trusting. Just as he’d come to.
Because she was so much stronger than he’d once believed, and together he was certain that no matter what came next, they would keep each other and their family safe.
Which was why he really only had one plan when it came to his omega now: love her with every fiber of his dark, messed up soul for the rest of his life.
Nothing was better.
Especially once he was planted deep inside, cock squeezed like a fist, his balls to her ass, and she looked over her shoulder at him and whispered her claim. “You, Maxheim Skolov, are all mine, heart, body, and soul—just like it was always meant to be.”
His control snapped. Just as she knew it would.
With a roar, he drove deep, her body moving in perfect tandem with his. Their interests and desires aligned.
Current circumstances were far from perfect, but they were perfect enough because she was his—and he was hers—and together they were each other’s everything.