Page 85 of Unhinged Alphas

"That's it, little wildcat," he purrs against my flesh. "Let go. I've got you."

His words unlock something inside me. I surrender to him, letting it consume me entirely. Wave after wave crashes over me, flooding my senses, each one blending into the next until I lose count. Time loses all meaning as Whiskey plays my body like an instrument, drawing out sounds and sensations I never knew I was capable of.

Whiskey snarls, his knot swelling to its full size just moments before his seed pumps into my mouth and down my throat. I have no choice but to suck and milk him until there's nothing left. No choice unless I want to fucking drown.

I don't know how long it lasts. Minutes? Hours? An eternity? All I know is that when it finally ends, I collapse over Whiskey, boneless and trembling. His fingers slip from my ass, leaving me feeling strangely empty, my hole fluttering and clenching.

For a long time, the only sound is our ragged breathing. Then Whiskey's knot starts to go down and he bucks his hips a little, freeing his cock from my mouth with a slick pop. I groan, taking the first full, shaky breath in what feels like a dangerously long time. I'm putty in his hands,my limbs floppy and useless and sprawling over his torso as he turns me around so I'm facing him.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice rough with concern and the rumble of his deep alpha purr.

I blink up at him, dazed and disoriented. I try to speak, but all that comes out is a hoarse croak. My throat feels raw, like I've been screaming for hours. Maybe I have. So I nod instead.

Whiskey grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Such a good girl."

I manage a weak smile, nuzzling into his touch. The praise washes over me, warm and comforting. It should bother me, this alpha calling me "good girl" like I'm some kind of pet. But right now, I can't bring myself to care.

"Are you done?"

Valek's voice, sharp and sudden.

Whiskey jolts beneath me, his muscles tensing. "Holy fuck, Valek!" he barks, his arms tightening around me protectively. "How long have you been there?"

I crane my neck, trying to catch a glimpse of the other alpha. Valek stands in the doorway, his face an impassive mask. His eyes, cold and calculating, flick between Whiskeyand me.

"Long enough," he says, his voice flat. "Thought you two might want a drink."

Whiskey turns bright red. "Fuckin' freak," he mutters under his breath.

"I can't drink," I croak, my voice raw and barely above a whisper.

"Hey, wildcat," Whiskey says, his voice softening. He looks down at me and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. "You can do whatever you want now. Remember?"

Valek's lips twitch into what might be a smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Yes. And I hardly think we need to be concerned about following omega drinking laws."

I blink at him, still dazed, but surprised. "You'd let me, though?"

"Yeah, of course," says Whiskey, shifting beneath me.

I try to sit up, but my limbs won't cooperate. I flop back over Whiskey with a frustrated groan.

"I got you," Whiskey murmurs. In one fluid motion, he scoops me up into his arms like I weigh nothing.

My head spins at the sudden change in position. I cling to Whiskey's neck, burying my face in hisshoulder to hide my embarrassment at being carried like this.

Whiskey brings me into the bar area, Valek following close behind. The cold air hits my sweat-slicked skin, making me shiver. Whiskey sets me down gently on one of the barstools, his hands lingering on my waist to steady me before draping a coat around my shoulders.Hiscoat, I realize, catching his familiar scent. I cuddle into it with a groggy yawn. The air is chilly in comparison to being snuggled up against Whiskey.

Valek moves behind the bar, pulling out bottles and glasses with practiced ease. "What's your poison?" he asks, his accent thicker than usual.

"Whiskey, obviously," Whiskey says with a grin.

Valek rolls his eyes, pouring a generous measure of amber liquid into a glass. He slides it across the bar to Whiskey, then turns his attention to me.

"And for the little omega?" he asks, his voice low and silky.

I swallow hard, suddenly nervous under his intense gaze. "I... I don't know," I admit. "I've never had alcohol before."

"Never?" he echoes, raising an eyebrow. "Well, we can't have that, can we?" He reaches for a bottleof clear liquid, pouring a small amount into a glass. "Vodka," he explains.