Shadow Unit Scandal: The Commander's Omega-Chapter 179: Make it stop.

Max slid down the bed and pushed Adam’s thighs apart, his gaze intense. "On your stomach," he said, using his hand as a firm guide.

The order would normally irritate Adam, but he turned over and buried his face in the pillow that smelled of Max. The alpha’s hands smoothed over his thighs and his ass, possessive and warm.

A second later, Max was over him, covering him, his chest to Adam’s back. He entered him from behind again, but this time from a deeper angle. Adam cried out, the sound muffled by linen. Max set a brutal, pounding pace, his hips thrusting without stopping. Each thrust jarred Adam forward, causing friction to burn through him and create a new, different type of tension.

Max leaned down, his mouth hot on Adam’s shoulder, teeth scraping. "You take me so well," he growled, his praise shocking Adam to the core.

They moved like that for what felt like hours, a sweaty, desperate tangle. When that position had wrung another broken climax from Adam, Max flipped him again, onto his side, curling around him, entering him, his arm hooked under Adam’s knee to hold him open. It was slower, almost intimate, Max’s thrusts deep and grinding, his lips trailing over Adam’s back. This time, Adam came with a sob, a wave of pleasure so strong it felt like pain.

The heat began to fade, and the frantic edge gave way to a heavy, pleasurable exhaustion. Max appeared to notice the shift. With a tenderness that stole Adam’s breath, he manhandled him one last time, pulling Adam into his lap, his back to Max’s chest. Max’s arms wrapped around him, one hand splayed on his stomach, holding him close as he sheathed himself inside Adam again.

"This," Max whispered into his hair, his hips moving in slow, circular rocks that rubbed against Adam’s prostate with every subtle shift. "This is how you’ll remember it."

Adam was pliant, utterly used, and wonderfully full. He let his head loll back against Max’s shoulder, his body moving with the alpha’s gentle rhythm. The final climb was slow, a warm tide rising rather than a crashing wave. His third orgasm was a quiet unraveling, a soft sigh as he spilled over Max’s hand on his stomach, his body clenching weakly around the hard length still moving inside him.

Max followed him over with a low groan, his own release a warm pulse deep within. He held Adam tight through the aftershocks, his breathing gradually slowing.

Adam lay there, the fading friction still prickling against his skin, but his thoughts were racing. The intimacy of being held like this, surrounded by Max’s scent, had influenced his resolve. He was a dominant omega who was used to taking charge, but in this moment, he desired to be taken.

"Max," Adam murmured, his voice rough with sleep and spent desire. He shifted his head back against the alpha’s shoulder, tilting his chin up to expose the sensitive gland at the base of his neck. "Mark me."

Max didn’t speak. His hand on Adam’s stomach remained steady, but the hand in Adam’s hair tightened slightly to indicate he was listening. Adam felt a shiver run down his spine, anticipation curling up in his stomach.

"Make it stop," Adam whispered.

Max’s arms loosened, and he slowly, carefully, withdrew from Adam’s body. The loss was sudden, a hollow chill where there had once been warmth and fullness. Adam turned in the circle of his arms, facing him now. Max’s expression was indistinct, his dark eyes shadowed, but a muscle ticked in his jaw. He said nothing.

But his hands spoke. They came up, calloused palms cradling Adam’s face, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. It was a tender gesture that contrasted sharply with his previous dominance. Then, with firm pressure, he directed Adam to turn around and present his back once more.

Adam’s heart hammered against his ribs. He obeyed, shifting on the damp sheets until he was on his knees, his back bowed, his head bowed forward. His long, sweat-soaked hair fell over his shoulders, exposing the delicate column of his neck. Right at the nape, just below his hairline, his scent gland pulsed, sensitive and warm.

He felt Max move behind him, not touching him yet. The anticipation was like a live wire beneath his skin. The heat from Max’s body then settled against his back, aligning them perfectly rather than entering him. One of Max’s arms wrapped around his chest, pulling him flush against a solid torso. The other hand came up, fingers threading into Adam’s hair, not pulling but guiding, tilting his head to the side to expose the gland further.

Max’s nose nuzzled the spot first, a hot, wet stroke that made Adam shudder. He inhaled deeply, taking in Adam’s post-heat, post-sex scent - spiced honey and salt and them. A low, approving growl rumbled through Adam’s back.

Then his mouth opened. Not just lips, but teeth. The blunt edges scraped across the sensitive skin, testing and teasing. Adam whimpered, digging his fingers into the sheets. "Please," he breathed, the word barely audible.

The pressure increased. Max’s jaw settled, his teeth finding the perfect spot where the gland was most visible, just above the vertebrae. Adam tensed, bracing for pain. But Max was excruciatingly slow. He didn’t bite down all at once. He applied consistent, increasing pressure, his mouth hot and wet, his tongue flicking against Adam’s skin in a maddening counterpoint.

The sensation was overwhelming. It wasn’t just about the physical pressure. It was the psychology behind it. The absolute submission of presenting his most vulnerable point. The terrifying trust that the alpha behind him, this silent, dominant force, would not break him but brand him. It was the deepest surrender Adam had ever known, and it made him feel more powerful than he ever had.

Max’s teeth sank in.

It was a sharp, bright burst of pain that immediately melted into a wave of shocking, white-hot pleasure. Adam cried out, his back arching, his body seizing as the bite went deep, breaking the skin. He could feel the exact moment his blood welled up, hot and slick, and Max’s tongue was there, lapping at it, swallowing the essence of him.

The world narrowed down to a single point of connection. The claiming. The bond snapped into place, invisible but as tangible as the arms around him. A flood of new sensations washed over him—Max’s satisfaction, possessiveness, and fierce, protective pride—all seeping into Adam’s own psyche via the new mark. It was dizzyingly intoxicating.

Max held the bite, his teeth locked, for a long, eternal moment. Adam could feel the alpha’s own pulse thrumming through his jaw. Then, slowly, he released. His mouth didn’t leave the wound. He laved at it with broad, soothing strokes of his tongue, cleaning the blood, the action intimate and caring. The sting faded, replaced by a deep, throbbing warmth that seemed to spread through Adam’s entire nervous system.

Finally, Max pulled back. He pressed one last, soft kiss to the marked skin, then rested his forehead between Adam’s shoulder blades, his breathing ragged. His arm around Adam’s chest tightened, pulling him back until Adam was slumped, boneless, against him.

"Better now?" Max asked in a soft, wrecked tone.