Caught by the Mad Alpha King-Chapter 269: No promises

Chapter 269: Chapter 269: No promises
"It already is," Dax said mildly.
Chris turned at the sound of his voice and stopped.
Dax was closer now. Much closer than Chris had expected, the sheer scale of him was impossible to ignore when there was no crowd to dilute it. At this distance, the height difference stopped being abstract and became unavoidable: Dax’s shoulders were broad enough to block light, his presence filling the corridor in a way that made Chris suddenly aware of how little room there actually was.
Killian’s footsteps were already fading, Mia’s laughter dissolving into echoes, until the wing fell quiet around them.
Dax shut the door behind them with one hand.
Chris swallowed and tilted his head up without meaning to. "Dax, I..."
Dax stepped forward.
Chris moved back on instinct, spine brushing the wall almost immediately, the difference in their reach and stride turning retreat into something pointless. Dax didn’t crowd him yet, but he was standing close, looking down at him.
Chris’s breath hitched despite himself.
From this angle, Dax didn’t have to lean in to loom; he only had to lower his gaze, eyes dark and intent, attention settling on Chris like weight.
"You ran out of room," Dax observed quietly.
Chris let out a thin, breathless huff. "You’re very observant."
Dax’s gaze lingered on him, dark and intent, the corner of his mouth still curved with that dangerous amusement.
"You know," he continued softly, "I’m glad that for once you did something sensible and wore the other robe at the gala."
His hand moved then.
He settled it at Chris’s waist, fingers spanning easily. The silk was warm under his palm, impossibly smooth, and then his hand stilled.
Because there was nothing beneath it.
No lining. No underwear. Just heat and skin and the sharp, undeniable awareness that the robe had been provocative by design.
Dax drew a slow breath, the sound controlled but no longer entirely detached. His thumb pressed in slightly, confirming what his body already knew.
"Well," he murmured, voice lower now, "that explains a great deal."
Chris swallowed, his pulse loud enough that he was certain Dax could feel it. He lifted his chin a fraction more, eyes bright with defiance and something far less innocent.
"That was the point," he said quietly. "I wanted you to lose your mind."
Dax’s hand tightened just enough to promise that restraint was becoming a choice with each passing second. He leaned in, close enough that his breath brushed Chris’s cheek, the height difference forcing Chris to tip his head back further just to keep eye contact.
"You succeeded," Dax said, almost fondly. "And you’re very lucky I noticed before the rest of the world did."
His other hand came up, hovering near Chris’s collar as if weighing the moment. The air between them felt charged, narrowed down to breath and intention and the unspoken agreement that whatever came next would not be accidental.
"Next time," Dax added, calm but unmistakably serious, "you warn me first."
Chris’s lips curved into something devious. "Why would I do that? I like how you are now."
Dax huffed a quiet laugh, low in his chest, the sound more breath than humor.
"That," he said, leaning in just enough that Chris could feel the warmth of him without being touched again, "is a dangerous preference."
His fingers brushed the edge of the collar at last, tracing the line where diamond met skin. It was a careful touch, restrained on purpose, as if he were reminding both of them that he still could stop.
Chris didn’t look away. He tilted his head a fraction instead, offering the line of his throat. He realized with a wickedness that wasn’t there before that he loved when Dax was lusting after him.
"I know," he said lightly. "But that makes it even better."
Dax’s gaze darkened, a muscle in his jaw ticking once before he caught himself. His hand at Chris’s waist stayed where it was, the thumb pressing enough to bruise.
"You enjoy testing me," Dax said.
Chris smiled, slow and unapologetic. "Somebody has to remind you that you are human." He reached to Dax’s nape, his fingers threading through the silky blonde hair before dragging him down in a kiss.
Dax’s mouth crashed onto his, his hand moved under the slit and clamped onto Chris’s ass, fingers digging in hard as he hauled him forward, crushing their bodies together. The silk of the robe was suddenly rough, useless against the heat and muscle of Dax’s chest.
Chris gasped, the sound swallowed by Dax’s tongue forcing its way into his mouth. Chris’s hand fisted in Dax’s hair, holding on as Dax’s other hand slid from his waist up his side, his thumb dragging over a nipple until it pebbled into a hard point. A jolt shot straight to Chris’s cock, and he couldn’t stop the helpless sound that escaped.
Dax broke the kiss, panting. He didn’t move back, just stayed pressed against him, his forehead on Chris’s. "You have no idea what you started," he said, his voice low and rough.
Chris’s chest was heaving. "I think I do," he managed, and ground his hips against Dax’s thigh, letting him feel exactly how hard he was.
Dax’s control vanished. He shoved Chris back against the wall, the impact knocking the air out of him. Dax’s mouth was on his throat, biting and sucking hard enough to leave marks. His hand was everywhere, sliding under the silk of the robe to grip the bare skin of Chris’s hip, pulling him even closer.
"You wanted my attention?" Dax growled against his neck, his breath hot. "You have it."
He yanked Chris away from the wall only to spin him around, forcing his chest and cheek against the cool marble. Chris’s hands flew out to brace himself, the silk of the robe bunching around his arms. Dax kicked his feet apart with a booted foot, sending a fresh wave of slick heat pooling in Chris’s gut. His body was preparing for his alpha despite the aggressive desperation of his mate.
The silk robe was untied and hanging open. Dax’s hands were on him again, one gripping the back of his neck, pinning him in place, while the other slid down his spine. His fingers traced the cleft of Chris’s ass, teasing, before one thick finger pressed against his entrance.
Chris pressed back against the touch, a desperate, needy sound tearing from his throat. He was already wet, his body betraying how much he wanted this, wanted Dax to lose control like this.
"Always so ready for me," Dax rasped, his voice thick with satisfaction. He pressed one finger inside, the slick drag of it making Chris’s toes curl. He worked him open quickly, adding a second finger almost immediately. He scissored them, stretching him, brushing against that sensitive bundle of nerves inside that made Chris see stars. Chris’s cock was trapped against the wall, leaking and aching, every thrust of Dax’s fingers sending jolts of pleasure through him.
"Dax, please," Chris gasped, his forehead pressed to the wall. He didn’t care about anything else, just the overwhelming need to be filled, to be taken by his alpha.
Dax’s fingers withdrew, leaving Chris feeling empty and exposed. He heard the sound of a belt unbuckling, a zipper being lowered, and then the rustle of fabric. He felt the blunt, thick head of Dax’s cock press against his slick hole, and he held his breath.
"Mine," Dax snarled, and then he pushed inside.
The stretch was a rush of pleasure that took Chris’ breath away. Dax didn’t stop until he was fully seated, his hips flush against Chris’s ass. He gave Chris a moment to adjust, his body pinning him to the wall. Chris could feel the frantic beat of Dax’s heart against his back, the bond between them humming with a primal energy.
Then Dax moved.
He pulled out almost all the way before driving back in, setting a brutal, demanding rhythm. Each thrust was deep and powerful, driving Chris against the wall, forcing cries from his lips. Dax’s hand was still on the back of his neck, fingers brushing over the diamonds of the collar. The other arm wrapped around Chris’s chest, pulling him upright slightly, changing the angle. Dax’s cock hit his prostate with every thrust now, and Chris’s vision went white.
Dax’s teeth sank into the muscle where Chris’s neck met his shoulder, a sharp, possessive bite, his pheromones already filling the room. Chris cried out, his body clamping down around Dax’s cock as his own orgasm tore through him, spilling hot and messy against the wall and the silk of his robe.
The clenching of his body sent Dax over the edge. With a guttural groan, Dax thrust deep one last time, his cock pulsing as he filled Chris with his release. He stayed there for a long moment, his forehead resting on Chris’s back, both of them breathing heavily in the sudden silence.
Slowly, Dax pulled out, and Chris felt the trickle of slick and release down his thighs. Dax turned him around, his hands gentle now as he cupped Chris’s face. His eyes were still dark, but the wild edge had softened.
He leaned in and kissed Chris, a slow, deep kiss that was a world away from the frantic one from before.
"Next time," Dax murmured against his lips, his voice still rough but now laced with a hint of amusement, "wear the underwear."
Chris managed a weak, sated smile. "No promises."