Chapter 74: You can always handle your own middle leg

​I tried to look away, but Reid’s eyes were like a vice, locking me in place.

​"You keep claiming to hate it, your pride and all," Reid whispered, a wicked, perverted glint exploding behind his pupils as his thumb swiped across my lower lip. "But we both know deep down that this is the kind of thrill that gets your blood pumping."

​Slap.

​I fiercely struck his hand away from my face, the sharp sound echoing loudly off the minimalist walls.

Reid didn’t get angry; he just let out a low, amused chuckle, his broad shoulders shifting against the cushions as he relaxed into the leather, thoroughly enjoying the fire in my eyes.

​"Don’t get high and mighty," I gritted out, my jaw aching from how hard I was clenching it. I focused my gaze back down on his lap, my hand beginning a slow, tight, and unforgiving stroke along the body of his cock. "In the end, I have my Omega gender to blame."

​"Keep telling yourself that, Cap," he gasped out, his smirk finally fracturing as my hand gripped him tighter, his frozen pine scent spiking with a sudden, helpless wave of pure pleasure.

I didn’t want to dwell on his words at all, but the brutal reality was already clawing at the inside of my skull. I do have a dirty inner Omega, and right now, that primal, submissive side of my biology was screaming at me, pushing me to lean forward, part my lips, and completely taste his cock.

The craving was a thick, sweet poison in my throat. I had to fight it. My Omega can’t dictate me. I am the Captain of this team; I rule my own body, and I refuse to let a genetic defect reduce me to a mindless doll for his amusement.

​But the sheer mental exertion of fighting my own instincts was suffocating. In the process of desperately trying to resist the urge to lean in and lick Reid’s throbbing, musky cock, my hand began to slacken.

My strokes became uneven, halting, and completely devoid of the rhythm needed to make him cum.

​Reid let out a heavy, irritated grunt, his head snapping forward from the pillows as his smoky eyes glared down at my hands.

​"You’re not really good at this, Cap," he muttered, his voice rough and laced with a sharp, snobbish annoyance.

​The criticism stung my pride like a whip. My fierce gaze snapped back up to his, my eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. Even flat on his back, stripped of his ability to walk, this arrogant brat still had the audacity to critique my performance.

​"If you don’t like it, McCoy, you can always handle your own middle leg," I bit out, my voice dripping with icy venom as I deliberately tightened my grip around his shaft, delivering a sharp, friction-heavy stroke that made his jaw lock instantly. "But since you’re so thoroughly incapacitated, I suggest you shut your mouth and take what you’re given."

​Reid’s chest heaved, a low, ragged breath escaping his teeth as the sudden, aggressive pressure shot straight to his core.

The arrogant smirk on his face flickered, his fingers digging violently back into the leather cushions of the sofa as his frozen pine scent flared, turning thick, heavy, and wildly erratic under my forced control.

​"Then do it right," he rasped, his smoky eyes darkening with a volatile mix of frustration and pure, helpless pleasure. "Stop overthinking it and just use your hand, Evans. Unless you really do want to use your mouth instead."

I didn’t answer, but I could feel my own dick beginning to throb painfully inside my pants. I was hard. Harder than I wanted to admit, and it was entirely from taking in the suffocating wave of his pheromones, the musky, heavy scent of his cock, and the dirty thoughts eating me alive from the inside out.

​I shut my eyes tight, trying to physically shut out the feeling, trying to ground myself back into reality. But Reid got impatient.

​Before I could register the shift in his weight, his hands grabbed my arms. With a sudden, explosive burst of Alpha strength, he lifted me off my knees like I was absolutely nothing.

He let out a sharp, guttural groan, his face tight as the sudden movement put pressure on his bad ankle, but the stubborn idiot ignored the pain entirely as he hauled me up and forced me to straddle his lap.

​"There," Reid rasped, his chest heaving directly against mine as my thighs locked around his hips. "Now we can get the fun really going."

​"Reid, no, you can’t..." I panted, my hands slamming against his broad shoulders to push him back, my heart hammering like a trapped bird against my ribs. "Your leg—"

​"Shh, Cap," he whispered as he lifted his body to meet mine, his hot, shallow breath fanning over the sensitive skin of my neck, sending a violent shudder straight down my spine. "I can tell you’re hard."

​His fingers gripped my waist, anchoring me tightly against his pulsing cock. He leaned his face closer, his lips brushing against the edge of the adhesive patch covering my scent gland.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat as he grazed the synthetic material with his teeth, catching the corner, and then—with a sharp, merciless tug—peeled it completely off.

​The cool air of the penthouse hit the exposed skin, but the heat underneath was staggering. Exposed to the room, the deep, dark mark he had carved into my neck began to pulse violently, reacting instantly to the proximity of its creator.

The scent of orchids exploded into the air, completely free and wildly uninhibited, tangling instantly with his heavy, dominant frozen pine.

​Reid stared at the mark, his smoky grey eyes darkening until they were almost entirely black, filled with a raw, primal possessiveness that made my inner Omega completely surrender.

​"And I can tell you want it just as bad," he whispered, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated against my bare skin. He licked his lips, his grip on my hips tightening until it bruised. "So, let’s fuck, Cap. Injured as I am, I can still fuck your brains out."