The Scent of Love

Chapter 16

Sean is nothing if not dedicated. Even if this arrangement is gearing up to drive him off the rails.

The first heat of their… arrangement would have been awkward, if she hadn’t waited so long to call him. She barely opens the door before she’s on him, smelling like she’s seconds from hitting hard heat. He stays through her nesting, and then somehow manages to leave with a casual, “See you next time.” It might be the hardest thing he’s ever done. 

The second time is a soft heat. It almost drives him wild. She’s on him constantly, with fewer breaks between waves, but it’s shorter than her hard heats. It’s harder to leave, harder to let her go, even when she goes from constantly touching him to decidedly not. 

By the third heat, he’s ready to just call it quits. Or drag her to his place and keep her there, like some sort of caveman functioning solely on his barbaric alpha hindbrain. It’s unclear which would win out, if he had the opportunity to choose. 

She texts him early in the morning— way earlier than usual, before the sun is even up, a barrage of politely anxious texts asking him if he would mind coming as soon as possible, if he could possibly pick up some food she needs (she tried to insist on paying him back once, and apparently the insulted look on his face changed her mind), if he could also please grab some ibuprofen or extra strength excedrin for her. 

Migraines and heat, he muses, knocking on her door at just after eight in the morning. Not a great combo. 

Beth answers wrapped in her comforter, eyes barely open, and eases back to let him in. “I’m sorry I woke you up,” she murmurs as she shuts the door behind him. “It’s gonna be a rough one, this time.” 

“It’s no problem,” Sean says, already putting things away in her kitchen. He fills a cup with water and sets it on the counter with an excedrin. “Knock that out now,” he orders gently, but with a little of the alpha push. Beth obediently takes the pill and downs her water as he finishes up, and then reaches into his overnight bag to pull out one of his tee shirts. “Here.” 

She looks… surprised. Even after her last heat, when he found her nesting with one of his shirts practically wrapped around her face. She cried— no, she bawled, like she was in complete agony— when he tried to take it, even though he was spooned around her. The rest of the heat, she spent with her face either in his neck or in the shirt. It seems like a safe bet, this go round, if he just puts her into one of his shirts from the get go. 

“Thank you,” she says, frowning at the shirt. “I think?”

“You seemed to need it during your last hard heat,” he reminds her. “It might make things easier, right?” 

After a small hesitation, she nods, and takes his shirt. He watches the transformation before his very eyes— her scent spikes, her eyes dilate, and then, instead of pressing it to her face like she did before, she sets it on the counter, drops her blanket, and strips. 

Sean wonders, as he stares at her smooth skin and plump breasts, if he’ll ever stop being completely flattened by the sight of her. 

Probably not. 

Beth pulls his shirt on, and their scents begin to mix marginally. He can see her starting to relax, even as she wraps herself up in her blanket again. “Thank you, Alpha,” she says— and it’s not even her voice, not really. It’s that Omega side of her that takes over during her heats. 

Sean swallows, suddenly half hard. “Go lay down, Omega. You need to rest.” 

Her face falls, the contentment dampened by sadness. “You’re not…” she stops mid sentence, and then just stands there, clutching her blanket. 

Your Omega needs you, the alpha voice in his head says. You need to care for her. Provide for her. It’s what you’re made for. To f**k her and coddle her and protect her. 

Sean tells the voice to shut up, and smiles flatly at her. “I was gonna make food now so that it’s easier and faster for us later. I can come in later if—“ 

“It’s fine,” Beth interrupts, her words rushed. “I’ll be okay. I can stay out here.” 

This really blows a hole in his calling it quits. Sean watches Beth fidget with the corners of her blanket, regards the bags under her eyes and her grey complexion. He’s not sure he can handle holding her while she sleeps, or the hollow feeling he gets whenever he remembers that she doesn’t really want him outside of her heats. 

Don’t do it, he orders himself. Tuck her into bed or put her on the couch, but don’t go in with her. Don’t do it. 

Do. Not. f*****g—

He doesn’t really get the chance to do anything. 

Beth comes around the counter, bringing that wonderful scent of hers with her, and leans against his front, her cheek on his chest. “You need to rest, too. I woke you up so early.” She tilts her head up, lips set in a slight pout. “Let’s take a nap. Just a short one. My heat shouldn’t start up for a few hours, at least.” 

God. He can’t— he shouldn’t—

He f*****g does. He just nods, picks her up, and carries her to her room. 

She’s out cold the moment he’s wrapped around her, hating himself and hating his designation even more. The bitterness does nothing to deter his exhaustion, though, and he falls asleep clutching her tightly.

***

A blast of heat wakes him. 

It’s like drowning in her scent, drinking it in and swallowing it in gulps. The sun casts streaking shadows across the wall when he opens his eyes, but he’d rather look at—

Beth sighs in her sleep, not quite awake yet. Her hair tumbles across her pillow in a soft fan, gold and red shining under the doeskin brown— her natural hair, at long last. She smells delicious, ripe and ready, even through the thin cotton of his tee shirt. His tee shirt, which she’s wearing, content simply because it’s his. He’s hard as a pike thinking about it. 

She doesn’t stir even when he pushes the shirt up, bunching it carefully so that he doesn’t choke her, searching for the swollen red gland between her shoulder blades. When he brushes his lips over it, she sighs again, arching her back to give him better access. 

God. Sean swallows, parting his lips over the gland. Her taste. He’s going to go mad, he’s sure of it. 

One of his hands settles between her breasts, holding her still as he kisses her mating gland. She’s still limp with sleep, smelling like her heat. Tasting like it. He sweeps his tongue over her gland, and she moans. Her body starts to stiffen, coming out of slumber and waking to him, to his licking and nibbling. He should stop— she’ll need him to serve her any minute now, to fill her up properly and ease the heat from her body— but he can’t seem to make himself pull away. 

Her breathing hitches as he pushes a little harder on her gland with his teeth, not breaking the skin, but definitely leaving an imprint. Then, as he licks her again, he can taste it, as easily as he hears it in her breathing: her orgasm pulses from her gland as strongly as it does between her legs. He’s gotten her off without even really touching her. 

Best. Compliment. Ever. 

Fuck, he thinks. f**k. He’s going insane on the spot. It’s just too f*****g good. 

“Alpha—“ Beth moans as he rolls on top of her, arranging her on her tummy with her hips arched up. She’s glistening with slick, swollen and pink and perfect. Made just for him. 

“I’m going to take care of you, Omega.” The words aren’t his, deeper, from some primal part of his brain. 

“Yes,” she gasps, arching further for him, letting him push his shirt over her head, freeing all of her glands for him. 

He keeps his word. He f***s her, and he feeds her, and every time he’s locked inside her, or she dozes in short bursts on his lap, he loses a little more of his control. 

The anger is his first and only warning. It’s not normal anger, not caused by anything she does or says— except her calling him alpha. 

Only alpha. Never by his name. Only his designation. Which used to drive him insane with want, and now just makes him want to trash the room. 

Heat spreads across his back, his neck. His chest tightens, and his knot throbs, even as he scents the first part of her heat waning. One more time, at most, before she sleeps, and then— finally— hard heat. 

Sean grinds his teeth. He should recognize a real rut when it hits him, but with the suppressants— he’s never had one with an Omega in heat. It feels different, somehow, than that time at the bar. More consuming. He should be able to control it, but—

Beth rolls toward him with a soft mewl, pressing her hand on his chest and nibbling on his shoulder. The smell of her makes his world crack, his entire focus shifting to his throbbing knot. She needs to… not smell like this. Like his own personal heaven. Like everything he’s ever craved in his life. If he can keep it together, stave off his rut for another hour maybe, then it’ll die down when her scent does. Maybe he can even make it through the next two days without it hitting again. 

“Mmm.” She sighs, her eyes trained on the gland at his neck. “You smell amazing, Alpha.”

Fuck. That. 

It’s like his body takes over while his brain hazes red. Sean grabs her by the waist, pressing her flat on her back as he makes room for himself. Beth gasps, and the sound goes straight to his d**k. 

“Alph—“ 

“Say my name.” 

He doesn’t mean to use his alpha voice on her, but he can’t help it. Beth’s scent spikes, and she whimpers. “Sean.” 

Sean just— loses it. 

His rut hits so hard his vision whites out. He wonders distantly if this is what Beth feels in her heat— a burning under his skin, a desperation to mark her, to claim her, to f**k her until she smells like him and nothing else. Until she knows who she belongs to. 

When he bites down on her neck, she cries out— but he can taste her pleasure, and no trace of pain or distress, so he bites harder.  His name falls like a litany from her lips, and he growls, gripping one of her legs and pressing her further open for him. When his knot locks him in, he nearly sees stars. 

It’s everything. It’s heaven, and hell, and life, and death, and all the spaces in between, and he’ll die before he lets her get away without mating her, he’ll just cease to exist entirely. He knows it, somewhere deep down. 

It’s a frightening thought. A lovely, wonderful, terrifying realization. One he can’t really afford to have right now. Not with her not wanting him. Not with everything that’s happened. 

He has to be careful. She can’t know. She can’t find out. 

By the time her hard heat really hits, he’s almost told her everything. Several times. 

I can’t live without you. 

This is killing me. 

Let me bite you.  

You’re mine. 

Sean spoons around her as her scent shifts, as they both recover from her latest fever. She clutches his hand as though she never wants to let him go, sunken deep into some omega subspace. She goes into it whenever they do this, nowadays. She’s mostly asleep at this point, and he’s not far off. 

“Beth,” he manages, stroking her hair. His tongue feels like cotton in his mouth. She chirps like a cat in response. 

Her hair smells nice. She smells like him. She never smells like him when he comes over anymore. Just her own perfect, irresistible scent. 

He hates it. He wants her to smell like him. Always.  

There was a heat— god, ages ago, now— where she told him she loved him, seconds before she dropped to sleep. He didn’t know what to do then, so he didn’t do anything. For awhile, he figured it was the hormones. After their fight, though, he realized there might have been some truth to it.

He wishes he’d thought about it more. Responded with something other than confusion. It’s not like she still feels the same way; that much is obvious. 

Too late now. Sailed ships, and all that. 

She sighs, clutching his arms more tightly around herself, and he can sense that she’s fallen asleep. He should sleep, too. It’ll be a rough one this time. For both of them.

He presses a kiss to her hair as he drifts to sleep. “I love you, too, Beth.”