She’s hot, but she pales in comparison to the one I really want—to Violet Steele. And with Tiffany facing away from me like this, I can almost pretend it’s Violet here with me now.
God, Violet.
Even with my cock buried to the hilt in another woman, I can’t help but think back to that first time I stumbled across Violet’s profile on knotty.net. Holy fuck was she gorgeous with a heart-shaped face and curves in all the right places. The text attached to her profile was utter shit, like someone was trying way too hard. But the meat market is brutal. I get that.
Her killer looks sparked my interest, but it was something else that kept bringing me back to her profile, again and again until I finally asked for a meeting.
Color me surprised when she responded just five minutes later with a big fat yes. And that made me think about her even more. Why is a girl who looks like that so fucking desperate?
I needed to find out.
Of course I couldn’t go and meet with her myself. I’d already become obsessed, and I knew I would blow it. No, I needed my boy Miles. He’s always been the romantic one of the bunch, bringing home this or that stray beta to live with us for weeks on end as they played house.
Fucking pathetic, I know.
But if I was made to run this pack and our multi-million-dollar tourism business, then Miles was built to love, plain and simple. He’d been all moony for the better part of a year before I finally decided that enough was enough and put together a profile for our pack on knotty.net.
It took weeks of mucking about before I found Violet. Honestly I was about to give up and just hire a professional matchmaker to pick someone for our pack without any input from us.
But two weeks ago I saw Violet, and I haven’t been able to get her off my mind ever since. I’d feel sorry for Tiffany if she wasn’t already getting exactly what she wanted out of our current arrangement.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes. Fill me, alpha! Fill me with your big, fat knot!” she screams, arching her back and thrusting her tits in the air.
So now we’re role-playing. I fucking hate role-playing.
I grab her nipples and give them each a tight pinch that sends her into another senseless screaming fit, which is annoying but beats the omega fantasy shit.
Then she screams again, but it sounds different this time as she jumps off my lap and pulls a blanket up to cover herself. “What the fuck, Archer?” she demands.
I follow her line of vision, and boom. There she is.
My angel.
Violet Steele is standing in my bedroom watching me fuck another woman. Shit.
“Miles?” I ask, my voice deep and demanding. “What’s going on, man?”
Violet stands in the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself in an awkward hug as she looks like she’d rather be anywhere but here.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was not the first impression I wanted to make. But what is she doing here? Miles was just supposed to meet her, not bring her home.
He crosses the room, stooping down to collect Tiffany’s discarded dress before throwing it at her. “Out. Archer’s a mated man.”
“What?” I demand, only half a second before my naked beta slaps me across the face. Hard.
Ugh. This is so not the first impression I wanted to give Violet.
“I didn’t know,” I shout, not for Tiffany’s benefit, but Violet’s. “I didn’t know!”
“Don’t ever call me again,” the beta snarls as she hustles out of my bedroom. I wasn’t planning on calling her, but pointing that out now just seems mean.
Violet hooks a thumb over her shoulder, pointing back toward the hallway. “I’m just going to...”
And then she slips away.
Miles moves to chase after her, but I jump from the bed and grab his wrist to stop him. I don’t care that my wet dick’s hanging out and possibly making him uncomfortable. I hope he’s uncomfortable. It’s what he deserves for springing Violet on me with no warning.
You only get one chance to make a first impression, and this will forever be Violet’s memory of when we first met.