chapter 9

Rhonin didn't mind losing. 

Not when Argent was on top of him, riding him with purpose, taking everything, he needed. 

Not when every roll of those hips sent waves of hot, slick pleasure through his cock, making his breath stutter and his grip tighten. 

They moved against each other, locked in a rhythm that was both a battle and a dance—grinding, thrusting, chasing dominance in the heat of it all. 

Argent bounced on his cock, thighs trembling slightly, hands pressing against Rhonin's chest for balance. 

Rhonin groaned, feeling himself sink deeper into the sensation, into the omega surrounding him, gripping him, pulling him in. 

The room was filled with the wet, obscene sounds of their bodies moving together, the sharp smack of skin against skin, the thick scent of heat and arousal coating the air. 

Everything was hazy, hot, pure pleasure. 

Argent leaned forward, bracing himself, and suddenly their faces were so close Rhonin could see every flicker of heat in those dark, unreadable eyes. 

They were breathing each other's breath now, chests rising and falling in tandem, the space between them unbearably small. 

Rhonin's fingers twitched against Argent's waist. 

He wanted to kiss him. 

Badly. 

But he didn't. Wouldn't. 

Because this wasn't about him. 

This was about Argent, about the client, about giving him what he needed. 

So instead, Rhonin did what he knew he could do. 

He thrust up, harder, deeper, snapping his hips in perfect rhythm, matching every desperate movement as he felt Argent begin to tremble. 

A sharp inhale from the omega. A subtle arch in his back. 

Rhonin could feel it. 

Argent was close. 

And so was he. 

"Come on," Rhonin gritted out, voice hoarse with pleasure. "Take it. Come with me." 

Argent's lips parted in a breathless gasp, eyes fluttering shut as he moved faster, harder, his entire body tightening around Rhonin. 

Rhonin groaned, feeling his knot start to form, thickening inside the omega, locking them together. 

The last thing he saw before pleasure consumed him was Argent's face—lips parted, body tensed, beautiful in his final unraveling. 

And then, they both shattered.

Rhonin groaned, deep and broken as he felt Argent tighten around him, milking his cock for everything he had. 

The omega's body pulled him deeper, gripping him in tight, rhythmic spasms, and Rhonin felt his knot swell fully, locking them together as he spilled inside. 

Hot. Thick. Filling Argent's womb to the brim. 

Argent exhaled a sharp, shaky breath, his body trembling slightly as he took all of it. 

Rhonin held him close, rolling his hips in slow, deep grinds, pushing his cum even deeper, making sure it stayed exactly where it needed to be. 

"Fuck," He rasped against Argent's ear, his voice raw, hoarse. "You're taking it so good." 

Argent didn't respond, just let out a soft, satisfied exhale, body still pulsing around him. 

Even in the aftershocks, their bodies still moved—small, involuntary grinds, chasing the lingering pleasure, drawing out the last waves of their climax. 

Eventually, their movements slowed. 

The tension melted into exhaustion. 

Argent let out one final shaky breath before collapsing fully onto Rhonin's chest. 

Rhonin swallowed, staring at the ceiling, trying to catch his fucking breath. 

Argent's scent was everywhere, thick and intoxicating, his heat still lingering in the air. 

Their bodies were locked together, slick and sweat-dampened, breathing heavy, pressed so close Rhonin could feel every rise and fall of the omega's chest against his. 

Neither of them spoke. 

Rhonin laid there, completely spent, his chest rising and falling heavily as the last waves of his orgasm faded into a slow, blissful haze. 

That was—fuck. 

That was the best sex he'd ever had. 

Hands down. No contest. Probably.

Argent was still pressed against him, their bodies locked together by his knot, heat-slicked skin against sweat-dampened muscles. The quiet stretched between them, warm and heavy, and for once, Argent wasn't rushing to pull away. 

Rhonin had expected him to roll off, maybe turn his back and keep things strictly professional. 

But he didn't. 

He shifted slightly, adjusting against Rhonin's chest, his breath still evening out. 

Rhonin blinked, a little surprised. Wasn't this the part where Argent ignored him until the session was over? 

Before he could overthink it, Argent finally moved—but not to pull away. 

Instead, he lifted himself slightly, just enough to switch positions, smoothly shifting onto his side while keeping Rhonin deep inside him. 

Rhonin stiffened slightly, blinking down at him. 

Argent tilted his head, dark eyes sharp and teasing. "What? You didn't think we were done, did you?" 

Rhonin's stomach tightened. 

Argent's lips curled slightly, almost amused. "We have two whole days ahead of us, Valor. You're supposed to give me a pup."

Rhonin stared. 

Because the cold-ass omega who barely tolerated his presence five minutes ago was suddenly looking at him like he was a full-course meal. 

Rhonin swallowed thickly. "Oh, fuck." 

Argent smirked. "Exactly."

_

The session was over. 

Argent's heat had finally passed, leaving the air in the room lighter, the intensity faded into quiet satisfaction. 

Rhonin could feel it. 

The undeniable scent of a thoroughly satisfied omega lingered in the space, wrapped around Argent like a second skin. 

They dressed in silence, slipping back into the silk robes Eden provided. 

Rhonin rolled his shoulders, his muscles aching in the best way, his mind replaying everything that had happened over the last two days. 

The way Argent had taken everything he gave and then demanded more. 

The way Rhonin had lost himself in the omega's body over and over again, knotting him deep, filling him to the brim, listening to those rare, breathless moans that had made his instincts fucking purr. 

They had barely left the bed—only stopping long enough to drink, eat, and clean themselves before falling back into each other again. 

And now? 

Now the bed was absolutely wrecked. 

The sheets were ruined, tangled and stained, the pillows knocked to the floor. 

Rhonin glanced down at himself, noticing the marks littering his body—deep nail scratches down his back, dark hickeys on his throat, faint bites along his collarbone. 

Argent had marked him, claimed his body in his own way. 

But when Rhonin looked at him—there was nothing. 

Not a single blemish on Argent's flawless skin. 

Because he hadn't allowed it. 

Rhonin felt a strange, lingering disappointment curl in his stomach but he pushed it down. 

He understood. This was a job. 

Their gazes met for a brief moment, Argent's expression unreadable as always. 

Then, without a word, Argent turned and reached for something—a sleek black briefcase sitting on the side table. 

Rhonin blinked, frowning slightly. Had that been there the whole time? 

Argent unclasped it smoothly, pulling out a neatly sealed envelope. 

He stepped closer and held it out to Rhonin. 

Rhonin hesitated, then took it, his confusion deepening when he opened it. 

Inside was a thick stack of cash. 

He counted quickly—ten grand. 

Rhonin's brows furrowed. "What's this?" 

Argent adjusted his robe, perfectly composed, like they hadn't spent two days tangled in each other's bodies. 

"A tip," He said simply. "For your satisfactory performance." 

Rhonin's brain stalled. "A tip?" 

Argent arched a brow. "Yes. You've exceeded my expectations. It was worth having you." 

Rhonin stared at him, completely unsure how to feel about that. 

It was a compliment. A damn high one, considering who it was coming from. 

And yet— 

Rhonin wasn't sure why he felt weird about being paid extra for fucking someone's brains out. 

Still, he took the envelope anyway, stuffing it into his robe pocket. 

They stood there for a beat too long, silence stretching between them again. 

Then, because Rhonin wasn't good with awkward silences, he cleared his throat. "So, uh… when do you find out if you're—" He hesitated, then finished, "—you know. Pregnant?" 

Argent smirked slightly. "Less than two weeks. We'll see if you successfully put a pup in me." 

Rhonin's mouth opened slightly, then closed. 

That sentence should not have made his stomach tighten in arousal. 

"Right," He muttered. "Cool." 

Argent nodded once, then turned to leave, completely composed, already moving on like it was just another transaction. 

And Rhonin just stood there, pocket ten grand richer, body wrecked and absolutely no fucking idea what to do with himself.