Chapter 104 Another Type Of Breakfast
I woke up to the faint clattering of plates in the kitchen, my body still heavy with the aftermath of last night’s frenzy. My legs ached, a deep, throbbing soreness between my thighs that reminded me of how brutally Darius had fucked me against the balcony railing, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It was that kind of sore that makes you smile because it means you remember, because it means you’re alive in every nerve ending.
The memory alone sent a shiver through me,his hands gripping my hips while his cock pounding into me. By two in the morning he had me begging for us to stop.
I stretched, feeling the oversized shirt I’d stolen from his closet cling to my sweat-dampened skin, and padded barefoot toward the kitchen. The soft morning light filtering through the windows felt almost sacrilegious after the darkness we’d shared.
Darius stood shirtless by the stove, his sleeve tattoo a dark, intricate swirl against his bronzed skin as he flipped
pancakes with casual ease. The sight of him, so relaxed yet undeniably commanding, sent a jolt of desire through me. I leaned against the doorway, watching him for a moment, my gaze lingering on the way his muscles flexed with each movement. He glanced over, a smirk playing on his lips, and I felt that familiar pull, like a magnet drawing me closer.
The bed felt too big without Darius there, his weight, the heat of his skin, the slow rhythm of his breathing all absent. I let myself close my eyes for a moment longer, just to savor the memory, before swinging my legs over the edge. Marble floors met my bare feet with a slight chill, and I shivered, stretching carefully, feeling every muscle that had carried me through the night.
The faint clinking of plates in the kitchen drew me forward. I dug through Darius’s closet, finding one of his oversized t-shirts, soft and worn in all the right places. Sliding it over my head, I let it fall loose over me, the familiar scent of him faint on the fabric, grounding me in a way I didn’t expect. It was comforting. Safe. Somehow just wearing it made me feel a little braver.
I padded toward the kitchen, taking in the view as the sunlight spilled across the penthouse. The city below looked peaceful in the morning glow, but the reality of life,of hybrids, packs, and politics,was never far from my mind. I paused at the entrance, and there he was. Shirtless, moving around the stove with effortless ease, the sleeve tattoo on his arm catching the light just enough to make me forget the world for a moment. Even without his usual armor of sharp suits and commanding presence, he radiated control and confidence.
“You’re just going to stand there all morning, or are you coming to try my delicious pancakes?” His voice, teasing and warm, reached me before he even turned around.
I laughed softly, letting the sound drift into the space between us. “I was thinking about just watching,” I said, letting my gaze roam over him, “but… maybe I’ll indulge myself.”, crossing the room with a sway in my hips, deliberately slow. “Your pancakes, huh? Let’s see if they’re as good as you think you are.”
As I approached, I reached out impulsively, giving his ass a playful squeeze and I smirked at the way his body tensed. But before I could pull away, his hand shot out, grabbing my wrist with a grip that was anything but gentle. He pulled me close, his chest brushing against mine, his dark eyes locking onto mine with a warning that made my pulse quicken.
Heat radiated off him, pressing into me in a way that made my pulse jump. I let out a soft laugh, more from amusement than anything else.
“Do that again, and you’ll be in big trouble,” he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. His voice was a promise, a threat, and an invitation all at once.
I rolled my eyes, pretending to be exasperated, though my pulse betrayed me. “You’re always smacking me or touching me, can't I do the same?” I murmured.
He tilted his head, pressing a quick, almost conspiratorial kiss to my temple. “Its all your fault,” he said, his breath warm against my skin. “ you keep walking into my space like that. You’re asking for trouble.”
I stepped away, climbing up onto the island and letting my legs dangle, feeling a moment of playful defiance. I looked back at him over my shoulder. “I suppose I’ll forgive you… eventually,” I said lightly, a teasing lilt in my voice.
Darius’s eyes darkened, just enough to make my pulse skip. “Eventually?” he murmured, voice low, teasing, a dangerous undertone hiding beneath it. “I like the sound of that, but I’d prefer something a little sooner.”
I leaned back on my hands, enjoying the way he shifted closer, closing the distance without touching me just yet. The playful tension between us made my stomach twist in that delicious, dangerous way. “You’re crazy,” I said, laughing softly, though my voice trembled a little at how close he was.
“I know,” he said, tone dripping with amusement and something else I couldn’t name. “But I like it.”
I smirked, leaning slightly toward him just to see his reaction. His dark eyes flicked to mine, calculating, teasing. The air between us was thick with something unspoken. Something electric. My heartbeat sped up, and I could feel it in the tips of my fingers, in the flush spreading across my cheeks.
His grip tightened, and before I could protest, he lifted me onto the kitchen island with an ease that belied his strength. I landed with a soft thud, the cool granite beneath me a stark contrast to the heat of his body.
“Alright,” I said softly, “I’m ready for breakfast. What’s first?”
I said while swinging my legs, and watching him move around the kitchen. The sight of him, relaxed, laughing quietly to himself, made something inside me loosen. For a moment, I allowed myself to just watch, to take in the man I had grown to rely on, trust, and, despite everything,care for deeply.
He set a plate of scrambled eggs in front of me, the smell rich and buttery. Then he handed me a small glass of freshly squeezed juice, holding it to my lips with a soft, almost careful smile. “Here,” he said. “Drink.”
I did, and when I swallowed, he leaned in and pressed a brief kiss to my lips, soft, lingering, a spark of warmth that made me ache just a little. I pulled back slightly, grinning. “You could punish me right now,” I whispered, teasing.
He chuckled, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear. “I could,” he said, voice low, dangerous. “But I’m a gentleman this morning.”
I laughed, enjoying the playful tension, the flirtation, the way he held the moment just on the edge without pushing too far. “A gentleman?” I echoed, smirking. “You?”
He grinned wickedly, “Even I can try.”
He grabbed a fork, speared a piece of scrambled egg, and brought it to my lips.
“Eat,” he commanded, his tone brooking no argument.
I opened my mouth, letting him feed me, the eggs rich and creamy, seasoned with something I couldn’t quite place, maybe it was the taste of him. He followed it with the cup of freshly squeezed juice, holding it to my lips as I drank, his fingers brushing my chin. When I swallowed, he leaned in again, his lips pressing against mine in a slow, deliberate kiss that left me breathless.
“You’re insatiable,” he murmured against my mouth, his hand sliding down my thigh, his touch deliberate, possessive. “Maybe I should punish you right now.”
I felt his hardness press against my core through the thin fabric of his pants, and my breath hitched. “I’m still sore,” I protested weakly, my voice trembling as his fingers traced the hem of the shirt. “You should behave.”
He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that sent shivers down my spine. “I’ll be gentle,” he promised, his lips trailing down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin in a way that made me arch into him. “But you’re already wet for me, aren’t you? I can smell it.”
His words were a whisper, his breath hot against my skin as his hand slipped beneath the shirt, his fingers teasing the edge of my panties. I bit my lip, trying to hold back a moan as he freed himself, his cock pressing insistently against my entrance. It was thick, heavy, and I knew from experience it would stretch me open, fill me completely.
“Darius,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, my body already betraying me. “I’m still tired.”
He ignored my plea, his lips moving lower, his tongue tracing the curve of my shoulder. “Shh,” he murmured, his hand gripping my hip as he positioned himself. “Just relax.”
I felt him push inside me, slow and deliberate, his thickness filling me despite my soreness. He kissed my neck, his movements gentle yet insistent, his cock sliding deeper with each thrust. I gasped, my hands clutching at his shoulders as he began to move, his hips rocking against mine in a steady, relentless rhythm. The granite beneath me was cold, but his body was fire, and I was caught between the two, my senses overwhelmed.
Just as I was starting to lose myself in the sensation, the phone rang, shattering the moment. Darius groaned, pulling back slightly, his forehead resting against mine. His breath was hot, uneven, and I could feel his frustration mirroring my own.
“Ignore it,” I breathed, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.
But he straightened, reaching for the phone with a scowl. “It’s Vincent,” he muttered, tapping the speaker button. “What do you want?”
Vincent’s voice came through, crisp and urgent. “Darius, we’ve got a problem. Omegas vanished from three border packs. It’s happening fast, and we don’t know why.”
Darius’s grip on my hip tightened, his expression hardening. I felt him withdraw from me, his focus shifting entirely to the call, leaving me breathless and exposed on the island. The loss of his warmth, his weight, was aphysical ache.
“How many?” he asked, his voice sharp, commanding.
“At least a dozen in the last week. No patterns, no clues. They’re just… gone.”
I felt Darius step back, his hand brushing my thigh as he moved away, his presence still lingering like a ghost.
“Keep me updated,” he said, ending the call with a sharp tap.
He turned to me, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, the tension between us was palpable. Then, he reached out, helping me down from the island, his touch gentle despite the storm brewing in his eyes.
“We’ll deal with this later,” he said, his voice low, a promise hanging in the air. “For now, finish your breakfast.”
I nodded, my heart still racing, the interruption leaving me unsettled. The pancakes sat untouched, the juice untouched, but the heat between us remained, a simmering undercurrent that neither of us could ignore. The vanishing omegas were a problem, but in that moment, the only thing I could think about was the way Darius’s touch lingered on my skin, a reminder of what was yet to come. And as I sat there, my core still throbbing from his absence, I knew it was only a matter of time before he’d have me spread out again, his cock burying deep inside me, his name on my lips.