The Alpha’s Secret Omega: Love Me Like A Sin (MXM)

The alpha straddling his hips smells like whiskey and cedarwood. Ilya gets drunk on it before he even realizes. He inhales it, filling his lungs like it’s a drug; It’s masculine, dark, and dangerous.His fingers twitch against the sheets as his body reacts before his mind catches up, warmth spreading low in his stomach and heat licking up his spine as the alpha strokes his cheek, his thumb moving gently over his skin as if trying to remember every edge of it.Ilya hums with the feel, yet he hates the way his pulse stutters and hates that his thighs tense instead of pushing the alpha off, but his body wants this, and the alpha smells so good, Ilya wants to drink him.He looks into the alpha’s eyes; they are the darkest shade of green Ilya has ever seen, intense and filled with desire that Ilya wants to bask in, but every passing second, the heat in his body is growing more intense, and the ache in his pants is unbearable while he continues to stain his pants and bedsheets with slick. H

Three days later, Ilya returns to work at the D’Avorin mansion wearing a black turtle neck tucked into a pair of pants but with a new mission in mind. The new plan is simple; get Valen D’Avorin out of his way and break free from this cursed bond. His jaw clenches as he walks down the long hall, irritation clawing under his skin as his own skin doesn't feel like his own anymore. The mark on his neck and the turtle neck shirt; everything feels out of place and fucking wrong. Even the mere thought of the bond claws at Ilya' skin, filling him with disgust. He can't believe he lost control and his fate just had to be so rotten that no one else found him in that pathetic state other than that son of a bitch.“If you clench your jaw further, there could really be a crack,”Ilya comes to a stop abruptly as he rounds the corner, coming face to face with Serik, a Beta who has made himself worthy to be among the syndicate’s Alpha Soldiers. To the rest of the world, betas are the neutral ones

Ilya squats and he brushes the dust off the gravestone before placing the flowers he brought on all four gravestones lined up in rows. His family, the ones the Crimson Syndicate took from him: his mother, father and his sisters.A bitter smile curls at the corner of his lips as he recalls the very day he lost them. The gunshots and the bullets had come without warning. His parents barely had time to take cover before they were shot and his sisters could barely run before they were taken down and Ilya, he was also shot; a bullet had gone through his leg and he could do nothing but watch as life left their eyes one after the other.His mother’s gaze had been the last thing he saw: wide, terrified, fixed on him like she was begging him to live and then she was gone.Ilya exhales slowly, his fingers curling into the dirt beneath him. He remembers too vividly and the images play in his head every single time he shuts his eyes to sleep at night and then they wake him up in the middle of the

Ilya’s jaw flexes sharply, and his eyes, hidden behind a pair of shooting glasses, stay locked on the target board ahead. His grip on the gun is tight, with his finger resting just an inch away from the trigger, and then he pulls the trigger. Bang. The recoil jerks through his arm, but Ilya barely feels it, and he repeats it three more times. Bang. Bang. Bang.Ilya looks at the target with bullet holes puncturing through it, and the one person that comes to his mind is Valen D’Avorin. He would look good with that many bullets in his body, wouldn’t he? Ilya would watch him bleed with glee.Ilya’s jaw locks tightly, and he does not attempt to lower his gun as anger floods his veins. Just a few days ago, he had never crossed paths with the syndicate’s heir; he had avoided him like a plague, and now, Valen was everywhere.In his fucking space, in his fucking head, and under his fucking skin.“Fucking bastard…” Ilya mutters under his breath as his grip tightens on the gun, and bang, the s