I stand there feeling exposed. The store’s air-conditioning bites into my skin, causing my nipples to harden, but that sensation is nothing compared to Colt’s gaze. My body shivers as he looks me up and down, his eyes lingering on my thighs, my hips, and my breasts.

He leans back in his chair, looking entirely too comfortable. "Turn around," he whispers in a husky, low voice.

I obey, driven by instinct. I slowly pivot, arching my back and sticking my hips out, glancing back at him over my shoulder.

He bites his bottom lip. "Perfect," he whispers, his voice barely audible.

"Let’s get it... but don't take it off yet." He pushes me back into the changing room and locks the door.

"Colt!" I gasp as he pulls me against the wall, pressing his lips to my neck.

I laugh, breathless. "Stop. We aren't doing this here."

"Oh, but we are, baby girl. You’re driving me crazy!"

"You’re the one who wanted me to try this on. Deal with the consequences."

"No," he whispers into my ear. "One thing you need to understand, Angel: I like being in control. Can you be a good girl and just take it this time?"

He presses his body against mine, my chest flattened against the mirror, his hard crotch rubbing rhythmically against my backside. A wave of heat surges through me; my knees turn to water, and my breath hitches. I’m unable to form a coherent word.

He breathes against my neck, ragged and warm. His hand trails down the silhouette of my waist, reaching my hips before sliding inward. His fingers slip inside my underwear, carefully tracing the folds of my femininity. Suddenly, he applies pressure, sliding his fingers between my lips. I moan involuntarily, quickly clamping a hand over my mouth to stifle the sound from anyone outside the dressing room.

I can’t complain—in fact, I don't want to. I grab his other arm, my nails digging into his skin as pleasure erupts within me.

"Moan for me," he commands.

I shake my head, my hand still shielding my mouth. I’m terrified someone will hear.

"I’m not asking, Angel. Moan for me."

For some reason, the need to obey consumes me. I lower my hand, my breathing ragged, until I can no longer suppress it. A long, broken moan escapes my throat. "Mh... mh..."

He lets out a shuddering breath, as if he’d been holding it just to hear me. "Good girl."

The praise sends a jolt of excitement through me that even I find surprising. I moan again, and I can tell it only drives him further over the edge. He reaches behind me, placing something soft, warm, and hard into my hand.

"Rub it."

Realization hits: it’s his member. A wave of goosebumps ripples across my skin. I start moving my hand, and he gasps, a whispery moan escaping him.

"Uh... uh... mh..."

"Faster," he rasps. I obey. "Mh... your hand is so soft... fuck... I want to know how your mouth feels."

He suddenly pulls away, spins me around, and pins me against the mirror in a sizzling kiss. He tilts my face to the side and whispers, "Get on your knees, baby."

My eyes widen, but my body drops of its own accord. I start to descend, but he catches my head, his eyes locked with mine. There is a primal intensity in them that sets my nerves on fire. I look down to see his engorged member in front of me. He caresses my hair, his fingers threading through the strands. I try to look away, but he forces me to hold his gaze.

"Beautiful girl, open your mouth." It’s a soft tone, but a command nonetheless—one I could refuse, but have no desire to. I want to be his good girl again.

My breath hitches, my lips parting.

"Let me see your tongue."

I slowly stick the tip of my tongue out.

"Lick it."

I look down at the tip of his member. "Lick it," he whispers again.

I lift my head and give it a tentative lick. It’s salty. I lick it again, lingering longer. He hisses, inhaling a deep, sharp breath. "Good girl..."

It feels like a reward.

"Now, wrap your lips around it."

My heart is pounding so hard I’m sure he can hear it. I carefully guide the tip of his shaft to my mouth, take a deep breath, and press my lips around him.

He groans, his grip on my hair tightening. "Take it, Angel. Take it all."

I do. I fill my mouth with him until my gag reflex kicks in. I pull back just enough to breathe, and he begins to move his hips. I follow his rhythm, letting his hard, hot length slide in and out of my mouth.

"Uh... just like that, baby. Hiss... don't stop..."

I don't intend to. Hearing him moan is the most intoxicating melody I’ve ever known. I bob my head, hearing the low, growling praise he murmurs as he keeps me moving.

Suddenly, a rapid knocking sounds at the door. "Is someone in here?"

A curse leaves his lips. The spell is shattered. I pull back in a panic.

"Y-Y-YES!" I scream.

"Oh... okay..." the woman says, adding under her breath, "No need to scream at me."

My hands cling to my chest, my heart racing. Colt takes my hand and pulls me up, but my legs are jelly. I stumble, and he catches me against his chest.

"You are such a good girl," he whispers.

A wave of embarrassment crashes over me. I close my eyes and bury my face in his chest, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. He rests his chin on my head, hugging me tightly. After a minute, he kisses my forehead, fixes his pants, and opens the door.

"Let’s get that. It looks amazing on you," he says, closing the door behind us.

I take a moment to compose myself and change back into my clothes. When I emerge, I can barely meet his eyes. He notices, stepping up to me with a chuckle.

"What?" I ask, staring at the floor.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Be embarrassed."

I stay silent. I can't hide it, but I refuse to admit it.

"Let's finish this."

We buy all the lingerie I need, and after a few hours, we’re finally done. I’m thankful he doesn't bring up what happened, though I know it’s only a matter of time.

After all the walking, I can barely feel my feet. He was right—shopping wasn't that bad, but I hated having to try everything on. We head to the food court, where I finally collapse into a chair. As I eat, I notice how Colt stands out. Humans look so... basic compared to him. Even Omegas and Gammas look like average humans, but Betas and Alpha males—especially Colt—carry a presence that commands the room.

"What?" Colt asks, catching my gaze.

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Oh!" I laugh. "Just noticing how different we look compared to the humans here."

I look around, finally realizing why so many people are staring at us.

"Or maybe," Dash chimes in from the next table, "hear me out... maybe it’s the dozen damn bags I’m carrying!"

Colt called Dash earlier to help with the shopping. Colt looks distracted, his gaze fixed on something behind me.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Dash..." Colt says.

Dash looks back and his expression hardens. I turn to see five men dressed in dark colors. Two of them are far larger than the average human—werewolves, for sure—and all of them are covered in scars.

"Who... who are they?" I ask.

Silence stretches between us. Colt’s face goes cold.

"We have to go."