2005 Words
TWO YEAR LATER… “Harder, Ace. Please f**k me harder!” the woman groaned loudly in his ears, and he winced despite the insobriety clouding his mind. Without a care, he took another swig of his beer bottle, and thrust harder into that slick p**sy in front of him. He felt nothing. Nothing at all. Gritting his teeth, he tried to summon the usual amount of infinitesimal pleasure that he managed to writhe out of the usual pounding. But to be honest he was put off by the blonde bimbo who was munching on her chewing gum and crying out his name like she was seeing a piece of Heaven. A flash of amber liquid fire flashed in front of his eyes, and he grimaced as his org*sm caught up with him, and he emptied his seed inside the womb of... well, of the woman in front of him. He couldn’t remember his own name right now. With one eye closed, he stumbled towards his bed, and signaled the omega to leave without fuss. However, that sleazy woman seemed to have another thing on her mind. Not discouraged by his lack of enthusiasm, she went on her fours, pushing him back on the bed. It didn’t even occur to him to protest – that was the position he preferred; he would get pleasured without the barest effort on his behalf. True to her suggested moves, she grabbed his c*ck in her hands, and started her hand to move up and down. He was still wet from the previous ejaculation, and the movements were fluid and he found himself getting hard again. Dropping his head backwards to hit the pillow, he relaxed against her hands, and allowed her to continue with her administrations. It was easier to picture a pair of golden eyes full of sadness in that position. He no longer had to pretend that he was with the actual person pleasuring him. Fiery auburn hair added to the picture, and juices flowed from his pen*s to wet that woman’s hand. Encouraged, the woman swallowed his shaft in her mouth, her saliva making it even more sluice for the up and down motion. He moaned as an innocent smile appeared in his mind, the depiction of purity and perfection. Was he delusional now? Shaking his head to clear the picture was unsuccessful as the image stayed and he orgasmed with that very illustration. “Oh, Ace!” the woman pleasuring him exclaimed in her whiny voice, breaking the illusion, and Ace could have strangled her. “That felt sooo good for me!” Somehow he doubted it, but he refrained from voicing out the thoughts trotting in his drunken mind. He wasn’t sure they made sense anyway. Unconcerned, he took another sip from the bottle only to belatedly realize that it was already empty. “Do you want me to stay, Ace?” the woman infused enthusiastically, and Ace flinched at the request. Whatever her name was, she was an omega. Omegas had the tendency to believe that hooking up with an alpha gave them some superior ascent to the hierarchical line. “No,” he managed to croak through his gurgled throat. He never really registered when she let herself out – he dozed off in a beer-induced coma only to wake up late afternoon the next day. There was his butler Javier waiting patiently for him to get up, and when his eyes opened, the man servant cleared his throat in a telling manner. “What is it, Javier?” Ace asked wincing as there was too much light on the room. His head was pounding, and he put his eye mask back on, waving his hand blindly at Javier in a silent request to pull back the curtains. “Is it morning yet?” “It’s nearly afternoon, sir,” Javier replied with a s***h of condemnation in his grave voice which Ace did not miss. However, he chose to ignore the censure from his butler, not because of arrogance, only due to the fact that there was something more urgent waiting for him. “Is she looking for me again?” he asked through clenched jaw, his eyes squinting in a measuring look in a futile attempt to ward off the unpleasantness. “Yes, sir. Your mother, Iliana Stone is waiting for you in the study,” the man announced in a rigid posture, his ramrod straight back a clear indication of his disapproval. Ace wished he hadn’t removed the cover on his eye, but by that time his vision had adjusted to the somber outlook of his room. He grimaced like a kid. “Since when?” “Since morning, sir,” the butler replied suavely, again in that grave voice, and Ace pushed back the fluffy quilt to descend from the bed. Plastering a smile on his face, he walked towards his drawer and popped two ibuprofens in his mouth, swallowing the bitter pills with a moue. A conversation with his mother coupled with a deadly handover required at least two painkillers. “Tell her that she can wait some more,” he cheered to the other man, and waited for him to leave the room before rushing to the bathroom to throw up. Since he hadn’t eaten yet, there was only bile coming from his stomach, The prospect of meeting his mother was making him even more nauseous than the booze of the previous night. Picking a handful of cold water, he splashed the liquid over his face to rinse his mouth and refresh himself at the same time. It took him a good half an hour to present himself in a somewhat decent form. “Come in!” his mother’s acerbic voice sounded as he knocked the door, and he was almost regretting being sober that morning. Those bloody pills had done nothing to dim his headache, and his cheek felt heavy against his mouth like he’d just been slapped. “Ace,” his mother’s voice laced with the usual disdain whenever she mentioned his name, and he bowed politely not really in the mood to get into a spat of words with her. “May I ask where you’ve been?” You may, but I’m not sure you’re going to get an answer, he retorted to himself impertinently, but refrained from speaking his mind. By now, he was old enough to understand that insolence was not the way to rattle the great Iliana Stone. Seriously, he was almost twenty, he hated the fact that his mother wanted to know his whereabouts, and the reason behind her curiosity was definitely not concern. “I was sleeping in actually. Not feeling well,” he supplied succinctly. “Was there anything you needed, mother?” he nearly spat the last word. He knew better than to antagonize her – it was not worth it. Her beautiful grey eyes sharpened over him, but she resisted challenging him as well. It seemed they were both unwilling to engage into another war that morning, and that surprised him. Usually, his mother didn’t hold back, using very opportunity to demean him. That was interesting. “We’re having the visit of the Queen Luna next week,” she informed with her spine straight in a regal manner, but which Ace read as displeasure. Living with that woman all his life had taught him to not only self-preserve, but to also watch her body language. She was as phony as one could get, and only her physical posture could give away her real thoughts. But the news caught his attention more than his mother that morning. “The Queen Luna? Who is that?” He’d never heard mention of one before– he’d always believed that each pack had a Luna who would reign over the Kingdom alongside the Alpha occupying the throne. “Well, technically, she’s our Queen. She’s reborn through the years with different physical appearances every blue moon. The last one happened two years ago, so we have a new one.” Ace was shocked – he’d never heard of one, or maybe he had? His mother pursed her lips in obvious displeasure. “You would have known about our history if you’d paid any attention to your courses. God only knows how you managed to graduate this year.” Well, technically he wasn’t a complete graduate yet, he had only managed to get his diploma – barely. He wasn’t sure he wanted to pursue his degree, not in the current predicament he was in. Those were murky waters for him, so he focused on the problem at hand. “Do we have a King as well?” he asked pretty curious about the new folklore who was about to unexpectedly visit their pack. Who was she and where had she sprouted from so suddenly? “Not that I know of, but if she chooses to marry, her lucky husband would be the next King Alpha.” As soon as the words were out from his evil mother’s mouth, Ace could guess what she was up to. Despite himself, he forced his legs to stay put when all he wanted was to dart through the door without a backward glance. As expected, she turned to him with her nose uplifted in the air in her usual arrogant nature. “I hope that you behave well during her visit. You need to get over that insignificant omega’s death and move on Ace.” A sharp shoot of pain clashed through him at the mention of the forbidden, and he growled menacingly towards his mother, his temper flaring like wildfire. “How many times do I have to tell you not to raise that subject? How many times?” he hollered angrily. Of course, it was done deliberately. His mother was well aware that it was a sensitive subject, and it gave her immense pleasure to twist the knife which seemed to be permanently lodged in his chest. Guilt was not a very comfortable companion. “I’m out of here!” he shouted in a frenzy, raking a trembling hand through his thick brown hair, and they traveled to the nape of his neck. Without waiting for a response from her, he stormed out of the study wearing a gloomy expression which would have scared off the sturdiest of his allies. Even Trevor and Noah knew better than to approach him when he was in that tempestuous mood. His mother had managed to make a mockery of all his resolutions as always. He’d promised himself to behave in her presence and had only asked her one thing in return. Never to mention Blue again. Blue! The name caused his chest to constrict painfully, and he had to bend over to take in a few short breaths to get back his bearings. His father Ivan Stone would have cringed upon seeing that his son was such a sissy. Ace gripped the side of whatever he was holding tightly, and the pain which overcame him sent him on his fours. Tears formed inside his eyes, and the moisture made him angry with himself, but there was nothing to be done. His mate was dead, and he felt the pain through his vein like the blood in his system, and his breath shortened to a moment where no air circulated inside his lungs. Throwing his head back, he let out a piercing growl to unload the burden in his chest, but there was nothing which could alleviate the agony. Nothing. As the familiar dark abyss engulfed him once more, he didn’t resist it this time, and allowed himself to be dragged to stupor which seemed far, far better than the piteous existence he was living. The worst part of his story was that he was the one to have killed her. He was nothing short of a monster – a murderer who had driven his own mate to her demise. Oblivion did seem a much better option.
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