Hired to Carry the Alpha's Heir, I Read the Last Page Too Late novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: Day One

The first day of the heat: a rushed kiss, a mouth on him, a first fuck from behind, and an alpha who holds the knot back until Jamie asks.

Roman got him up three flights of glass stairs without once letting go of his neck.

Jamie's legs had stopped being useful at the second landing.

Every step rubbed his jeans against the slick, and he swore at each of them.

"It was supposed to be three days," he said into the henley. "I looked it up. I have an app."

"Your body doesn't use the app."

"I hate that you're right."

"You'll hate it less in a minute."

The primary suite took up the whole top floor.

There was a bed the size of a small country, a wall of glass, and the Pacific going dark below it.

Roman set him down on the edge of the mattress and stepped back.

His hands were fists, and he was breathing.

"Rules," Jamie said.

His voice shook, but he got it out, because he had been practicing it in the car.

"I pay my own way. Whatever this costs you, I'm writing it down, and I'm paying it back."

"Write what you like."

"I mean it."

"I know you do," Roman said. "Take off your shirt."

Jamie took off his shirt.

The air touched his chest and his nipples drew tight, and he saw Roman's eyes go to them and stay there.

"The rest."

"You first."

Something moved in Roman's face that was almost a smile.

He pulled the henley over his head and dropped it on the floor.

He was built like a man who had spent his thirties hauling cable, wide and thick through the chest, with a dark line of hair running down his stomach.

The scar ran down the left side of his neck, over the collarbone, and stopped halfway across his shoulder.

Jamie looked at the right side of him instead, because the right side was easier.

He saw Roman notice that, and he saw Roman's mouth go flat.

"Come here," Jamie said, and pulled him down by the belt.

Roman's knee hit the mattress.

Jamie got a fist in the front of his jeans and kissed him.

It was clumsy and desperate, and it landed on the right corner of Roman's mouth.

Roman made a low sound in his throat, and then he took over completely.

His hand slid up into Jamie's curls and tipped his head back.

His tongue pushed in, slow and deep and hot, tasting of coffee and salt.

Jamie moaned straight into his mouth, a sound he would have died to hear on a recording.

The kiss went on and on.

By the end of it, he was flat on his back with his jeans open and Roman's weight pressing him into the sheet.

"Off," Roman said against his jaw. "Now, Hendry."

Jamie kicked his way out of the jeans and the underwear in one furious wriggle.

His cock was hard and wet against his belly, and below it the slick ran freely, soaking the sheet under him.

Roman looked at him for a long moment.

"Christ," he said, very quietly.

"Don't look. Do something."

"I'm going to do everything."

He got his hands under Jamie's thighs and pushed them wide.

Then he put his mouth between them.

Jamie arched off the bed with a shout.

Roman's tongue dragged slow and flat over the hole, and the sweet stupid heat of it flooded up through his whole body.

"Oh, fuck, oh, God, you can't just..."

"Hold still."

"I can't!"

Roman held his hips down with both hands and licked him open.

He took his time about it, long strokes and then short ones, and then the tip of his tongue pushing inside.

Jamie's fingers tore at the sheets.

The sounds he was making were obscene, and so were the wet sounds underneath them, and he couldn't stop either.

"You taste," Roman said, and his voice cracked in half. "You taste like the best thing I've ever had in my mouth."

He pushed a finger in alongside his tongue.

It slid in without any trouble, and Jamie wailed.

A second one followed, and Roman crooked them, and found the place inside him on the first try.

"There," Jamie sobbed. "There, there, that one."

"I've got it."

"Don't stop."

"I'm not stopping."

The pressure built so fast it frightened him.

He was a hot clenched wire from his scalp to his heels, and Roman's mouth was on his balls now, sucking, while the fingers worked.

He came with a cry, hard and sudden, his come spattering his own chest.

It did nothing.

The heat did not even notice.

It roared back, hotter, and the emptiness inside him had grown to the size of a room.

"Again," Jamie said. "Aldecott, I need..."

"What do you need?"

"You to fuck me. Now. Please."

Roman surged up the bed over him.

His eyes were nearly black, and a flush stood along the good side of his face and the ruined one.

"Turn over," he said. "Hands and knees."

Jamie turned over.

It was the most naked he had ever felt, and he had never wanted anything more.

He braced on his forearms with his ass in the air, and the cool air touched the wet, open hole.

He heard the clink of a belt and the rasp of a zipper.

Then Roman's hands closed hard on his hips, and something thick and hot dragged through the slick.

Jamie looked back over his shoulder.

Roman's cock was heavy and dark and flushed at the tip.

It was longer than he'd imagined and thicker than he'd feared, with a swollen ridge at the base that made his stomach drop.

"That's the knot?"

"The start of it."

"That's not going to..."

"It's going to," Roman said. "Not tonight. Look front."

Jamie put his face down in the pillow.

The head pressed against the hole, rounded and blunt and blazing.

It gave a little, and then a little more, and then it pushed in.

Jamie shouted into the pillow.

The stretch was enormous and perfect.

Roman went in slowly, inch by inch, one hand flat on the small of Jamie's back, until his hips met Jamie's ass.

He stopped there, buried deep, shaking.

"Breathe, Hendry."

"I'm breathing."

"You're not."

Jamie breathed.

His body clenched, rippled and gave around the weight inside him, until the aching empty room in him was finally, completely full.

"Oh," he said, small and wrecked. "Oh, that's what it was for."

Roman laughed, a short broken sound.

Then he pulled almost all the way out and drove back in, and Jamie stopped being able to talk.

It was a hard, deep, steady rhythm, and each stroke hit the place inside him that Roman's fingers had found.

The bed rocked, the headboard slammed the glass, and the sound of skin on skin cracked through the room.

Roman's hand slid up his spine and into his hair, and wrapped it, and pulled.

Jamie's head came up and back.

"Good," Roman said, in his ear. "Look at you. You take it so well."

"Harder."

"Say it again."

"Harder, please, harder."

Roman gave it to him.

The pace turned brutal, and Jamie loved it, and the slick ran down his thighs with every thrust.

Roman's free hand slid around his hip and found his cock.

It was already hard again, and it jerked in the thick palm.

"Don't," Jamie gasped. "I'll come, I'll..."

"Come, then."

"You didn't say I could..."

"I'm saying it now. Come on my hand, Hendry, while I'm inside you."

The hand stroked him in time with the thrusts, firm and slow and then not slow at all.

The fullness behind and the grip in front met somewhere in the middle of his body.

He came with a raw, ragged shout, shaking all over, clenching so hard around the cock in him that Roman swore through his teeth.

His thrusts stuttered, and for a few seconds neither of them breathed.

Then Roman started moving again, right through the aftershocks, and Jamie sobbed into the sheet.

"Too much," he said, and rocked back against him. "More. Don't stop."

"I won't."

"Don't you dare stop."

"I won't stop until you're begging me to."

"You're going to carry my child," Roman said, rough and low and close. "That's where it goes. Right here. Every drop."

The words hit him lower than the cock did.

Jamie's whole body clenched, and Roman groaned and shuddered against his back.

At the base of the cock inside him, the knot swelled.

It caught on the rim, thick and tight and enormous, and Jamie's mouth dropped open.

"Oh, God. It's..."

Roman pulled back, deliberately, until it popped free and left him gaping and empty and furious.

"No," Jamie cried. "No, no, put it back!"

"Not yet."

"What do you mean not yet? What is wrong with you?"

Roman's hand slid down to the small of his back and held him there, one broad palm pressing him flat.

His cock lay hot and wet along the cleft of Jamie's ass.

"You'll have it," Roman said. His voice was shredded, and every muscle in him was trembling. "When you ask me for it."

"I just did!"

"You said please. That isn't asking."

"What's the difference?"

"You'll know it when you say it."

Jamie turned his head on the pillow and glared back at him.

His curls were stuck to his forehead, and his whole body was a burning ache.

A laugh he did not want to give came up out of him anyway.

"Ask for it?" he said. "Make me."

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