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Staking A Claim

Chapter Three

Plot Summary : Your life isn't going great; you're having doubts about law school, your job sucks, and you've finally just broken up with your cheating boyfriend. So, the last thing you need is to wake up in bed with an attractive, older alpha with no memory of the night before and a sinking suspicion that your whole life is about to change...

Pairing : Alpha!Billy Russo x Omega!Reader

Story Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smut/frisky business. All chapters will contain the usual omegaverse and A/B/O tropes, and explicit smut. There is an unspecified age gap between Billy and reader. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 5.8k

A/N : it's been a long week, I think I caught all the typos but maybe I didn't

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO

Master List

Chapter Three

"I bet you say that to all the omegas," you said, not wanting him to think you were impressed by his flattery, even though your heart was pounding and you were still smiling.

His hand dropped but you could feel the lingering tingle on your cheek where he'd touched you.

He shook his head. "No, I —"

The alpha didn't seem the sort to get lost for words easily, but as he stared at you, he struggled for what to say.

A dull ache started to grow in your chest, a tug that urged you closer. It should have been warning enough to step away, but the more you tried to deny it, the worse it got.

So, you leaned a little closer.

And, so did he. (Did he feel a similar ache?)

"I'm Billy," he said.

You gave your name, but it felt like more. It felt like a promise.

"Let me buy you a drink," he said again.

Finally, you said yes.

You struggled to focus through your morning classes, distracted by more unwanted memories of that night. But your wandering mind was the least of your worries. From the moment Billy dropped you off, you'd noticed the way people were looking at you, the way conversations turned hushed as you walked by. It didn't take long to figure out that people knew — no doubt thanks to Kyle.

He'd told them his version of things, as he so often did, painting you as the bad guy, the liar and cheat.

You refused to care. You weren't going to let Kyle win. So, you kept your chin up and went to class.

It became harder to ignore at lunchtime when everyone made it clear they wanted nothing to do with you. It felt like being in high school again, being the only omega in your small-town class; a feeling you'd spent years trying to put behind you. You tried to distract yourself by rereading your notes, instead you found your thoughts straying back to that night.

The first time your hand slipped into his, it felt like coming home. It was like suddenly belonging after years of looking for your place. You couldn't describe it, and you certainly didn't have the words to explain it to him. All you could do was hold his hand tighter, hoping that he just knew, that he understood exactly what you were feeling.

After a couple of drinks at the bar, he offered you his hand and led you to a table. By the time you got there, you didn't want to let go. So, you didn't. Your hand stayed clasped in his on the table.

Before you knew what was happening, you were telling him all about yourself; about moving to New York for school, working at The Daily Grind, even how you weren't sure what you wanted anymore.

"Why law?" He asked, his thumb tenderly running along your knuckles.

"I don't know," you answered. "Most omegas who go to college drop out and hardly any of them study law..."

"You want to prove yourself?" He asked and you gave a slight nod. "To who?"

You just shrugged. "You wouldn't get it. You're an alpha. You've probably never had to prove anything to anyone."

"You'd be surprised," he said with a soft smile.

You were rudely pulled back to the present by your watch beeping, telling you to get to your next class. But something in the memory had left a knot in your stomach. It was his smile, it made you want to remember whatever he might have told you. It made you want to remember him, the alpha you'd met that night. The alpha who'd made you feel safe enough to let down your guard.

The rest of the day was much the same until you stepped outside to find Billy's driver standing by the car at the curb, waiting for you. You rushed to get to him, just so you didn't have to prolong the embarrassment of everyone watching you getting picked up by your alpha's driver.

He introduced himself, and asked if you wanted to go straight home. You did. You wanted to go home and curl up in bed for the rest of the week. Only you couldn't. You had to go home and get ready for your date with Billy.

Shelly almost lost her mind when you told her. And the worst part? You couldn't tell if it was because she was happy you'd agreed to spend time with him.

"Whose side are you on?" You asked as she rummaged through your closet, trying to help you find something to wear.

"Obviously yours," she said, throwing a little black dress your way, "but we've been over this; there's no getting out of a mating bond, so you're gonna have to find another way to deal with this."

"You think I should just roll over and be a good omega?"

Shelly huffed and glared at you. "I didn't say that. I just think you need to accept how precarious your situation is. He could turn your whole life upside down if he wanted to."

You didn't have a snappy answer for her, so she ushered you towards the bathroom to shower. When you reemerged Shelly did your hair and makeup for you, all the while reminding you to be on your best behaviour.

She didn't offer to cover the claiming mark, and you didn't dare ask her why. It wasn't a secret anymore, you supposed. There was no point in continuing to hide it.

At 6:30 on the dot, you headed out.

"Practice safe sex!" Shelly called after you, and you extended your middle finger to her.

He was already waiting when you got outside. Somehow he looked even better than he had that morning — devilishly handsome and downright sinful. Beneath your ribs something started to pull again. Billy's smile widened the closer you got.

"You look —"

He stopped the second your expression started to darken.

You didn't want flattery and honeyed words, you weren't there to be won over. This was simply a logistical meeting to figure out how to move forward. Nothing more, nothing less.

His smile faded, replaced by that calm mask. But it didn't hide the hurt in his eyes.

"This is for you," he said, all but forcing a box into your hand.

You stared at it for a second before opening it and looking inside. Your heart skipped several beats at the contents. A bracelet. Silver — or, maybe it was platinum — with blue stones set all the way around the delicate chain. You didn't even want to think about whether the stones were real.

"Sapphires," he said, as if reading your mind. "I thought they'd match your necklace."

Without warning, he reached for you and took the little blue butterfly charm between his fingers, examining it before letting it go again.

"Why?" You asked.

The last thing you expected was for him to laugh — a soft, warm sound that settled something inside of you. "I really am your first alpha, aren't I?"

Your cheeks warmed. Did you really tell him that?

"It's a courting gift," he explained.

"Isn't it a little late for that?"

He took an uncomfortable breath, his jaw ticking as he tried to ignore the bluntness behind your question.

"It's supposed to show that I can provide for you —"

"I can provide for myself."

You didn't know why you were antagonising him. The bracelet was probably worth a small fortune — and it wasn't just some gaudy trinket either. Thought had gone into the gift. He'd paid attention to you, enough to notice your necklace.

"I —" you started, needing to break the silence that you had created, "— I didn't get you anything."

The smile returned to his lips, and you hated it. He was too handsome when he smiled.

He shook his head. "You're here, that's the only thing I want.

You didn't have a response to that. At least, not one that would be helpful.

"Here, let me..." he said, plucking the bracelet from the box and fastening it on your wrist.

All you could do was stare at it, watching as the sapphires sparkled beneath the light of the street lamps. Sapphires — how much did real sapphires even cost?

"It should be a ring really, given everything," he started to mutter, "but I don't want to push you..."

Silence seemed to be your best option.

"Come on, I don't want to be late for our reservation," he said.

It was then that you noticed he wasn't standing in front of the town car and his driver wasn't waiting. By the curb sat a black Rolls Royce.

"Is that a Wraith?" You asked, trying not to sound too impressed as he opened the passenger door.

"You know cars?"

"A little. My dad —" you hesitated awkwardly, considering how much you wanted to share, "— he worked as a mechanic and... because he was an alpha, other alpha's trusted him with their expensive cars..."

Billy smiled that damned smile again, keeping his eyes on you as you got into the car.

He didn't speak again until he was behind the wheel, pulling the car away from the curb. "I thought you might be more comfortable if it was just us tonight. No driver, no —"

"No one to listen to us argue?" You offered.

Billy laughed. It was an awkward sound but it was better than an instant rebuke. "I don't want to argue. I — I want to try and get past that tonight."

You gave a nod and a noncommittal hum, letting your gaze drift out of the window for the short car ride through the city. Billy didn't push or try to make you talk to him, but there was no ignoring his presence, his scent. Your fingers gripped the hem of your dress, desperate to ignore the urge to reach for him. The omega part of you was in active rebellion, eager for her alpha, longing to touch and be touched.

You barely held back a sigh of relief when he pulled into a dark parking lot and got out of the car. It didn't cross your mind to open the car door, instead you waited for him to do it. He offered you his hand and helped you out. Your mind instantly drifted to the memory you'd half-remembered at lunch time — your hand holding his, not wanting to let go.

This time he kept your hand as he led you towards a little restaurant.

"Thai?" You asked the second you saw the neon sign.

"I heard your ex mention it," Billy said, shrugging. "But we don't have to eat here if you don't want — I can take you anywhere in the city."

"No... Thai is fine."

His fingers remained tight around yours as he led you into the restaurant, firm and unyielding, as if silently reminding you that you were his. You tried not to think about it, instead distracting yourself with the rich scents around you and the gentle music that was playing over the speakers.

The maitre d' didn't ask if Billy had a reservation — clearly she already knew who he was and, more importantly, what he was. Moments later you were led to a table at the back, tucked away behind silk screens and orchid plants; a private and intimate space separated from the riff-raff. It would have felt romantic under different circumstances.

He pulled out your chair and his palm brushed against your waist as he guided you to sit. A fleeting but purposeful touch. Deliberate, even. The heat of it lingered long after you sat down and tormented the part of you that wanted more, the omega part who wanted everything her alpha had to offer.

You made a point of ordering wine for the table, asserting your independence over that one little thing. Billy didn't argue but you caught his lips twitching like he was fighting back a smile. He was indulging you.

Once you'd both given your orders and your wine was on the table, the server vanished, leaving you alone. An uncomfortable silence quickly set in, and you could feel his eyes on you.

"What?" You asked.

"What?" He answered, distracted.

"You're staring."

His gaze dropped to your neck, to his mark, and heat sparked inside you. He wet his lips with his tongue, buying himself a moment before answering. "You didn't cover my mark tonight."

Your cheeks burned and your gaze instantly dropped to the table.

"I didn't mean to —" he quickly started again.

"It's fine," you cut him off. "Everyone knows anyway. They all think I cheated on Kyle."

His jaw clenched. "I'm sorry. I never meant to turn your life upside down."

"Then why did you?"

A heavy sigh escaped him, sick of having the same conversation over and over. He unlocked his phone and slid it across the table to you. As you reached for it, your fingers brushed against his, and the heat burning through your body intensified.

"I've got nothing to hide about that night."

You hesitated, heart hammering as you lifted the phone and realised that the gallery was open — pictures, videos, frozen moments from the night you couldn't quite remember. You start to scroll through dozens of images of you smiling, happy in a way that showed a certain level of clarity and understanding, just as your own pictures had.

When you pressed play on the first video, you were met with the sound of your own voice, sultry and seductive as you leaned close to him.

"You smell like coffee and dark chocolate," you murmured, nuzzling against his neck. "So nice..."

Your lips pressed to his gland in a wet kiss, and —

The intimacy of the gesture caused your stomach to knot and your thighs to press together beneath the table. You quickly swiped away from the video, only to find yourself staring at a picture of you on your knees in front of him, his hand tangled in your hair, while your hands pulled at his pants. Your mouth went dry with the realisation that the dream really had been a memory; you'd given Billy a blowjob.

Shame and want filled you, your omega part declaring war on your common sense. That was the worst part of all of it, the fact that some piece of you still wanted it, wanted him.

You wanted to reach for him almost as much as you wanted to slap him.

"I don't know how else to prove I didn't coerce you or trick you into this," he said. "You wanted me."

You couldn't even look at him, terrified of what you might see.

Your hand shook as you reached for your wine glass, desperate for a momentary distraction as you continued to scroll through the photographs.

The next images were the ones that really got to you — you on his bed in your underwear, smiling so widely it looked like you were glowing, like it was the happiest moment of your life. It hurt that you couldn't remember ever feeling that happy. How had he done it? How had he made you smile like that?

You scrolled again and your heart seized in your chest; you on his bed, this time naked, seductively blowing a kiss for the camera.

You slammed the phone down on the table and pushed it back towards him. Your thighs were still clenched beneath the table, your body and mind in disagreement over what you were supposed to be feeling.

He took back his phone, glancing at the screen and smiling, before dropping it back into his pocket.

"Do you really not —"

The food arrived just in time to save you from the awkward question.

All you could think about were those pictures, and how they didn't feel like you. You weren't a happy person, not really. Other people constantly disappointed you — it was why you always went back to Kyle, better the asshole you knew.

You felt Billy watching as you ate, but you refused to lift your eyes from your food. Every time your glass started to look empty, he took it upon himself to refill it for you. If you'd been feeling cynical, you might have assumed he was doing it to get you drunk and more agreeable, but you realised that he just liked playing the part of alpha and providing for you.

"How's your food?" He dared to ask about halfway through the meal.

"Good."

He was silent for a few seconds, waiting to see if you'd elaborate, and continued when you didn't. "I'm glad you like it. It's nice to see you eating properly."

You bristled at the comment but didn't respond. The omega part of you only seemed to get louder in your silence, wanting your alpha to take care of you, to make sure you were well-fed, happy, and safe.

Dessert arrived — two ice cream sundaes, ordered without asking. You wanted to baulk at it, but you were rendered speechless by the way he slid one closer to you, looking at you as if he'd spoon feed it to your himself if he had to.

For a few wonderful minutes, you were allowed to grudgingly enjoy the ice cream. But then he had to speak again and ruin it.

"Do you really not remember any of it?" He asked.

You froze, the spoon in your hand dripped ice cream back into the bowl beneath. His gaze pinned you in place and you noticed the tension that had filled his body, like it was taking every ounce of his restraint not to reach across the table for you.

You felt the tug beneath your ribs again, and realised that part of you wanted him to.

"I —" you started and stopped, wanting to lie but knowing it would only make things worse, "— I remembered some of it, but I still don't remember why I'd agree to any of it."

He let out a shuddered sigh. His hand gripped the edge of the table, anchoring himself, his knuckles quickly turning white.

"I thought that maybe you were just... having second thoughts." His tone betrayed his hurt and annoyance. And his anger.

"It's not my fault I don't remember," you said, holding his gaze. "I don't know what you expect from me."

"Try some fucking compassion."

The sharpness should have been enough to make you flinch, but instead it reignited that uncomfortable heat inside of you. He'd never hurt you. You didn't know how you knew it, you just did.

Still, you scoffed. "Compassion? That's rich."

"Do you really think you're the only one who doesn't know what the fuck is going on?" He asked, his voice low but barely holding back the torrent of emotions you'd managed to provoke in him. "I've been nothing but patient, trying to do things the right way, and you're treating me like I did something wrong. You wanted this. You wanted me."

You bit back the first nasty response that came to mind and took a second to consider his words. Grudgingly, you had to admit that you hadn't thought about him at all, about how it must have felt to have a willing mate one moment and someone all but accusing him of assault the next.

"I don't remember," you said again. "And, I'm sorry, but I don't even know why I would agree to any of this. I literally broke up with my boyfriend two days ago, and now I'm mated to a guy I don't even know. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with any of this."

He huffed and ran his fingers through his hair, the last of his composure rapidly disintegrating.

"You did agree to this. And I don't know how to prove that to you," he said, pushing away his half-finished sundae. "I thought we could at least try to talk and get to know each other —"

"Why? I don't want this."

His jaw tightened again. "Well it's too late for what you want now. It's done. You're mine. You're going to have to learn to accept it."

Your breath caught in your chest and the spoon slipped from your fingers, clattering as it landed back in the sundae dish. You pushed back from the table, desperate to get away from him and all the stifling emotions that were warring inside of you.

Billy's hand closed around your wrist before you could stand, holding tight.

His hand was so warm on your skin, holding you firmly but also delicately, not wanting to let you go but not wanting to risk hurting you either. The prolonged contact had you torn between contempt and want, your omega desires louder than ever and impossible to ignore.

"Stop fighting me," he said, softly stroking his thumb over your racing pulse. "Please."

He shifted closer, his chair dragging on the tiles — close enough that his scent started to flood your senses.

A molten heat licked through your treacherous body and you realised your thighs were pressed together again, every fibre of your being thrumming with a need you didn't dare name. You dug your nails into your thighs, trying to ground yourself, trying not to lose yourself to your base omega desires.

You were so caught up in your own internal struggles that you didn't notice his hand start to move until it slid past your elbow to your shoulder. Up and up, until it was on your neck, his fingers brushing over your gland and the permanent mark he'd left on it.

"I know you're scared," he said softly, "but I promise you, all I want to do is take care of you."

His eyes fixed yours and you found that you couldn't look away. The more he touched you, the more he looked at you like that, the harder it was to deny him. You were angry — at least, you were supposed to be angry. You wanted to be angry.

"You're perfect," he muttered into your ear, his arm tight around your waist.

The comment caused you to falter and stare at him, confused. "No one's ever called me perfect before."

It was his turn to look confused, then angry — not at you, but for you. "But you are perfect, omega. Every single thing about you, every last bit. I want to spend my whole life showing you how perfect you are."

Your legs trembled beneath you as you leaned to kiss him, wanting to tell him what your words could not.

The memory had a sound escaping you, a quiet omega whine that betrayed everything you wanted to deny. Every memory of him was so delicate and gentle, nothing like the broken alpha sitting before you. (You'd done that to him, you'd broken him by forgetting.)

His nostrils flared and you realised entirely too late that your scent had shifted. His dark eyes filled with hunger and his fingers pressed down on your gland, causing you to feel lightheaded as your arousal continued to spike.

You swallowed thickly, trying to rid yourself of the lump in your throat so you could speak and say something to stop the insanity.

Billy wet his lips again and let his gaze drop to your mouth, and all you could think about was the picture of you in his bed, naked and wanting. He leaned closer, looking ready to devour you.

Then he pulled back, placing his hand on the table as if nothing had happened.

"I know you feel it too," he said, his voice filled with a forced calm. "I know you felt it that night."

You did. Your body thrummed with it, the ache in your chest growing more acute the second he pulled away from you. But, just because you felt it didn't mean you understood it.

"No," you whispered.

Somehow you finally forced your body to obey your mind and got to your feet.

He watched but didn't try to stop you, instead pulling out his wallet and leaving a wad of bills on the table to cover the check. The second you turned and started to walk away, he was hot on your heels. He reached for you, pressing his hand to the small of your back as you left the restaurant, no doubt wanting to make sure every other alpha in the place knew that you were his and that you weren't leaving alone.

The cool night air did nothing to quell the fire that was burning through your veins, but it did help clear your mind a little.

You stopped short, halfway between the restaurant and his car. Billy stopped beside you, his hand still on your back despite you trying to shrug away from his touch.

"I'll get an uber," you said, needing space and time to unpack all of your raging thoughts.

"No," he said, keeping his hand on you. "I'll take you home."

At the slightest pressure on your back, you started to move, your body obeying his silent command for a few steps.

"No," you said, shaking your head. "I said I'll get an uber."

"And I said I'll take you home."

You opened your mouth to argue but he started to move again and you didn't stop until you were standing beside the Wraith. When you turned to face him, you found yourself crowded by his presence. The hand that had been on your back shifted to your hip as you turned, and his other hand had come up to brace himself on the car, right beside your head.

He caged you in, standing close enough that your chest pressed against his with every dizzying breath you took. His scent enveloped you once more, slowly chipping away at your restraint.

"Billy —" you started but stopped when you noticed the way his dark eyes were looking at you.

"Please, stop fighting me," he said, his voice little more than a whisper. "It's unbearable. It hurts so fucking much."

Your heart constricted at the mere thought of causing him pain. As much as he pissed you off, that wasn't what you wanted, and if what he felt was a fraction of the ache in your own chest...

You didn't even want to think about it.

When you didn't speak, didn't try to pull away, Billy took that as a sign to press closer. His nose grazed your neck, and the angle of his head exposed his gland to you.

Your hands gripped his shoulders for support as your knees buckled beneath you, but there was no risk of falling. He wouldn't let you fall.

"Please," he begged, a deep rumble vibrating through his chest.

The heat in your veins burned hotter still, scorching you from the inside out. An alpha was begging for you. Your alpha was begging for you.

And you were so close to breaking, so close to giving in to your omega side.

"Stop," you managed to choke out. "I — I just want to go home."

Billy let out a rough exhale but pulled back from your neck, resting his head against yours for a few seconds, temple to temple, taking a moment to regain his composure. When he pulled back, his eyes caught yours in a longing stare. It was almost enough to have you changing your mind but, before the thought could fully form, he'd pulled away from you and was opening the car door.

Your omega half mourned the loss of contact and longed for the heat of his body against yours. You forced it down and tried to silence it as you got into the car. All you wanted was to go home, to put an end to the night — to put an end to all of it.

The drive back to your apartment was excruciating, the silence and the lingering tension between you was suffocating. His scent filled the car, strong enough to make the longing ache beneath your ribs intensify. Your fists clenched in your lap and you tried everything you could to ignore how aware of him you were.

By the time he pulled up in front of your building, you were ready to jump out and run, but then he let out a sigh and you froze.

"When can I see you again?" He asked.

It took everything you had not to laugh. You'd just endured the worst date of your life, and he was asking when he could make you suffer through another. The absurdity of it was only countered by the way he'd begged and the pain he'd admitted to feeling because of you.

"Why?" You asked.

"Because I want to see you again."

"Why?"

His eyes found yours again, his expression desperate but resolved. "Because you're mine. Because there's no undoing this. Because it means something to me. Pick one."

With a shake of your head and a roll of your eyes, you reached for the handle to get out of the car. But, before you could slip away, his hand found your wrist again, his thumb pressed over your racing pulse. You turned back to face him, to tell him to let go and —

Your objections died on your lips the second your eyes met his. He looked so desperate, so sad, so... wounded.

"Omega..." he said softly, and the heat reignited in your body.

You held his gaze, the rest of the world fading into the background until only you and Billy remained. He was a wolf and you were his prey. He wanted to control you, devour you. And part of you was desperate to let him.

You didn't notice you were moving until you started to lean towards him. His free hand rose to find your cheek, cupping it tenderly. The touch sent a spark of desire through you, and you leaned into the warmth of his palm.

Then your hand was on his jacket, clutching a fistful of the expensive fabric, pulling him closer even though some part of you tried to deny what you wanted.

His lips found yours and everything else went silent.

The kiss wasn't gentle. It was claiming, demanding, stealing the breath from your lungs. You got so caught up in the blur of emotions that you didn't realise you were moving — or that you were being moved — until you found yourself straddling him, your fingers buried in his hair.

He groaned and you keened against his lips in response, your omega vying for control.

"I thought you didn't want this," he said, barely able to pull his lips from yours to speak.

Your forehead pressed against his, your eyes closed tight. "I don't. But I — I can't help myself..." you lied, pulling him into another kiss, eager for another taste.

Everything was him; his soft lips against yours, the taste of wine on his tongue, the heat of his hands as they slid up your thighs and dragged you closer. You gasped against his lips as you felt the press of his arousal between your thighs.

The omega part of you won out, rocking your hips against his and letting out a shameless, broken moan at the friction, wanting more.

"Fuck," he muttered against your lips.

He trailed kisses down your jaw, then lower, playfully scraping his teeth along the column of your throat. Each wet, hot press of his mouth drove you closer to insanity. And, when his nose brushed against your gland, you shuddered violently in his lap.

You let out another sound, something embarrassingly submissive, something purely omega.

"That's it," he groaned, letting one of his hands slide higher up your thigh and beneath your dress. "Stop fighting what you need. I know you want this."

He was right. You wanted all of it. You wanted him.

Heat pulsed between your legs, and the higher his hand got, the harder it became to deny it. By the time his fingers reached the lace of your panties, you were already slick, your body ready and eager for him. Your heart threatened to stop the second you felt the heat of his fingers bleeding through the wet fabric to the sensitive skin beneath.

An animalistic rumble vibrated through his chest, and it only made you feel more out of control.

"Billy —" you gasped, his name falling from your lips like a plea.

He didn't pull back from your neck, didn't stop the scrape of lips and teeth over your skin, gorging himself on you and your scent like a starving man.

"Mine," he muttered against your skin.

You opened your mouth, about to disagree, when his fingers slipped into your panties. The only sound you managed to make was a low whine, and the only word to leave your lips was his name again. His touch was confident, demanding — everything your omega needed it to be, everything she wanted from her alpha.

Another desperate sound tore from you as his finger sank into the slick heat of your body. His lips covered yours again, his tongue finding yours and muting your eager moans. The finger started to move, drawing in and out while his thumb pressed against the throbbing bud of your clit. You writhed against his touch, wanting more and more.

Little by little, you could feel yourself getting lost, being drowned out by your omega half and her desperate needs.

She would let him fuck her, right there in the car. She would be shameless and brazen, taking anything and everything that her alpha wanted to give her.

But you still didn't know what you wanted — you didn't know if you wanted him as a mate, you didn't even know if you could trust him.

"You're mine," he said against your lips. "Say it. Say you're mine."

Yours. Yours. Yours. Your omega part wanted to answer but you managed to keep her silent, despite everything he was doing to make you want to surrender.

As a car horn blared down the street, a slither of reality crept back in and you reached for it, trying to pull yourself out of the haze. Then, with every ounce of strength you could muster, you pushed yourself away from him. It wasn't much, but it was enough. Billy stilled beneath you, staring up at you through the gloom.

"No," you said, shaking your head. "I — I can't."

For a moment, he didn't move. His eyes stayed fixed on you, watching for the slightest sign of uncertainty but, when you showed none, he let his hand slip from between your thighs. You felt empty and bereft of his touch as you scrambled off his lap and out onto the street, straightening your dress as you went.

You didn't dare turn back until you were at the door to your building, and found him still sitting in the car, his hands gripping the steering wheel to keep himself from following after.

A/N : show of hands... who'd be shocked to discover that I might need to make this one a little longer than I planned because I'm being over-indulgent with the angst? 😅 So, right now it's looking like maybe another two weeks of this one? And then I think I'll just take smut/kinktober sorts of prompts from people over October.

As always I love and appreciate every like/comment/reblog and keyboard smash of love. Thanks so much for reading! Hope you all have a great weekend!

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! Otherwise new chapters will be posted around 7:30pm GMT on Fridays.

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#alpha!billy russo

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#alpha!billy russo