Shadow Unit Scandal: The Commander's Omega-Chapter 178: Not enough

Max walked toward the grand staircase without breaking his stride, his long legs eating up the distance. Adam was drowning in the alpha’s scent, a heavy, musky fragrance of dominance that was gradually eroding Adam’s last ounce of resistance.

Max carried him up the staircase, two steps at a time, the muscles in his arms shifting under the fabric of his shirt as he moved. The master bedroom was at the top, a refuge of dark velvet and cold stone, with a faint scent of sandalwood and old books. Max slammed the door behind them and carried Adam to the center of the massive bed.

He dropped him.

Adam bounced against the expensive mattress, the springs groaning under the impact, then scrambled backward on his elbows, his heart hammering against his ribs. He looked up, breathless and wide-eyed, to see Max standing over him.

Max didn’t smile. He didn’t offer comfort. He just stared at Adam like a predator stalking its prey, the air around him crackling with the suffocating pressure of an alpha in rut.

Max reached up to his collar. His fingers hooked into the silk of his tie, yanking it tight before pulling it free with a sharp, violent motion. The black silk hissed through the air before landing on the floorboards without a sound. He undid the top button of his shirt, his movements jerky and impatient, before his hand moved to his wrist.

He undid the clasp of his watch with a sharp click, the metal hitting the nightstand as he tossed it aside without looking.

Max didn’t bother with a slow undressing ritual. He only wanted skin, contact, and to break down the barrier between them. He unbuttoned the remaining fastenings in rough, jerky motions, the harsh click of the fabric loosening filling the silent room.

He shoved the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a heap, revealing the broad expanse of his chest. The sight of him—defined muscles, dusted with a faint sheen of sweat—made Adam’s mouth go dry, a primal response to the naked man in front of him.

Max didn’t give Adam a moment to adjust to the change. He climbed onto the bed, the mattress springs groaning under his weight as he hovered over Adam, looming like a dark cloud.

"Look at me," Max commanded, his voice rough and guttural. He reached out, his large hand gripping Adam’s jaw, his thumb pressing hard against Adam’s cheekbone, forcing him to focus. He leaned in, his nose brushing against Adam’s neck, inhaling the scent of his slick with a predatory intensity.

Max’s grip on Adam’s jaw was punishing, his thumb digging into the bone as he leaned in, his mouth hovering over Adam’s.

The air between them was thick, charged with their pheromones mingled in the warm air of the bedroom. "You’re mine," Max growled, the words a possessive brand against Adam’s skin.

Max didn’t wait. He shoved Adam’s sweatpants down, the fabric catching on Adam’s hips before he yanked them off completely, tossing them aside. Adam kicked them off, his legs trembling, the slick pooling between his thighs.

He positioned himself between Adam’s spread legs, gripping Adam’s hips to hold him in place. The tip of his cock pressed against the slick, hot entrance, nudging insistently. "Open," Max said, his voice dropping into that terrifyingly low register.

Adam gasped as Max thrust forward, filling him with one long, hard stroke. The stretch was sharp and painful, but it quickly turned into pleasure. Max began to move quickly and brutally, his hips slapping against Adam’s in a rhythm that matched the pounding of his heart. It was good, it was mind-numbingly good, but it wasn’t enough.

Adam’s pride, that fierce little spark that refused to die, flared up. He couldn’t just be taken. He couldn’t just lie there and take the alpha’s pleasure. He needed to feel something. He needed to be the one in control, if only for a second.

Adam’s hands found Max’s shoulders. He dug his nails in, scraping against the skin. With a grunt of effort, he pushed against Max’s chest, levering himself up. Max groaned, the rhythm faltering for a split second, before he let him. He went still, his hands sliding up Adam’s thighs to support him, his eyes dark and watching.

Adam shifted his weight, positioning himself. He sank down onto Max, taking him in deeper, feeling the ridges of him stretch him open. The angle was different and a lot better. He could feel every inch of Max inside him.

"Move," Adam breathed, his voice wrecked.

Max’s hands tightened on his hips, guiding him up and down. Adam rode him, his movements desperate and frantic. The friction was maddening, the heat coiling tighter and tighter in his lower belly. He threw his head back, his hair matting to his sweaty forehead, and began to ride Max with abandon.

Max’s eyes locked onto him, the green irises blown wide with lust. "Look at me," Max commanded again, his voice rough and demanding.

Adam forced his gaze down, locking eyes with Max. The sight of Max beneath him, flushed and powerful, pushed Adam over the edge. His back arched, his body seizing as the violent orgasm ripped through him.

He cried out, his body shuddering as he came, his cum spilling hot and wet over Max’s chest. He collapsed forward, panting, his forehead resting against Max’s shoulder, as the aftershocks rippled through him, leaving him trembling and completely drained.

The deep, guttural groan that tore from Max’s throat vibrated through Adam’s own chest, still pressed against him. "Fuck," Max snarled, his hands clamped like vices around Adam’s hips.

Adam was exhausted, a boneless heap, but he felt the change immediately. Max’s rhythm, which had been allowing Adam to set the pace, crumbled. The alpha’s controls snapped. He rolled them both in a powerful, dizzying motion, pinning Adam beneath him once more, the damp sheets cooling Adam’s overheated back.

Adam gasped as his oversensitive body jolted from the sudden movement. Max didn’t give him a second to adjust. He drove back into him, deeper than before, his thrusts becoming rough, erratic, and utterly possessive. The slick ease of Adam’s climax soaked the slide, with each plunge claiming friction.

"Mine," Max grunted against Adam’s neck, the word more breath than sound, but Adam felt it in his soul. He could only cling to Max’s shoulders, his nails biting again, as the alpha pursued his own release. The bedframe protested with a sharp, rhythmic thud against the wall, a stark contrast to their labored breathing.

Max’s entire body went rigid, a statue of straining muscle. A final, devastating thrust buried him to the hilt. He threw his head back, cords standing out in his neck, and a raw, triumphant roar filled the room as he came. Adam felt it, the hot, pulsing flood deep inside, a shocking intimacy that made his own spent cock twitch weakly. Max shuddered through it, his big body trembling with the force of his orgasm before he collapsed, his weight a heavy, comforting anchor.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of their panting, the air thick with sex, salt, and satisfaction. The edge of Adam’s heat receded, just a fraction, the unbearable urgency momentarily sated. But the fire wasn’t out. It banked, smoldering, waiting for a breath to relight it.

That breath came when Max shifted, pulling out slowly. The loss made Adam whimper. Max’s eyes, still dark with lust but clearer now, locked onto his.

"Not enough," Max stated, his voice gravelly. It wasn’t a question.

Adam shook his head, mute. It wasn’t. The heat was a living thing in his gut, coiling, demanding.