Villainess Marked For Her Alpha-Chapter 58: Reyes Lost Her Control

Reyes was going mad inside, her alpha instincts clawing feral at the edges—that sweet, unique scent wafting off Emily in waves, richer and more intoxicating than any omega she’d ever caught drift of.

Not that she’d tangled close with any omega before, but damn, she trusted her nose—this was pure nectar, hidden under layers of jasmine soap and lavender suds like a veiled secret begging uncover.

It twisted her gut possessive, gray eyes darkening stormy every inhale—was this how Emily really smelled? How the hell did this woman consider herself as an alpha?

She couldn’t quite pin it down—this wasn’t standard omega bloom; it felt muffled, cloaked by something artificial, like blockers or denial. Maybe Emily was hiding her real gender.

This might be the reason of this wonderful smell.

But why is she hiding her real identity?

Normally, alpha noses clashed hard with rivals, sparking agitation, hackles, violence—but Emily? No trace of other alpha taint anywhere, clean as fresh snow.

It was suspicious as hell, that wrecked look and hidden sweetness, but Reyes knew bone-deep—no rival had touched her girl. Yes, alpha instincts wanted this woman to become hers and hers alone.

How could an alpha smell this fucking good? The doubt gnawed, but protectiveness drowned it. If Emily would be a hiding omega, she wouldn’t change her stance.

"Emily, don’t sleep. It’s afternoon," Reyes rasped, voice gravel-rough from restraint, spooned tight on the sectional—her corded frame curled shield around Emily’s plush softness, gloved hand stroking soothing circles on her hip.

A sleepy hum vibrated back, Emily’s raven head lolling heavier against her chest, emerald eyes slitted lazy.

Reyes eased free careful after a beat, tucking a throw blanket over her before stalking into the kitchen—boots quiet on the floor, mind racing as she yanked open the stainless fridge.

No way she’d let that scent-fuelled haze win; Emily needed fuel to mend, something hearty to rebuild whatever storm had torn her down. So, she would control herself.

She set to work efficient—first, a base of fluffy quinoa pilaf simmered golden in bone broth, studded with tender chunks of grilled chicken breast—lean protein sliced thin, seasoned sharp with smoked paprika, garlic, and fresh thyme for that appetising punch.

Roasted sweet potatoes caramelized edges crisp beside steamed broccoli florets glossy emerald, drizzled olive oil and a squeeze of lemon for bright zing; avocado slices fanned creamy beside a handful of toasted almonds for crunch and healthy fats.

Side of Greek yogurt swirled with wild blueberries and a drizzle honey for gut-soothing probiotics, electrolytes from coconut water infused in a chilled glass pitcher.

All balanced nutritious—high-protein recovery fuel to soothe sore muscles, replenish slick-drained reserves, steady that hidden glow without overwhelming her raw throat or tender belly.

Plate steaming assembled, she strode back, cedar pulse spiking hungry—not just for food—as she scooped Emily up effortless bridal once more, settling cross-legged on a wide armchair with her prize perched firm on her lap, thighs bracketing plush hips.

"Be obedient, Emily," Reyes commanded low, fork poised, gray eyes locking stern.

Emily thrashed light protest at first—legs kicking feeble, hands batting air—then stilled obedient under that alpha stare, pout blooming full lips as cheeks flushed.

Fingers danced phone—You’re being bossy. Did you forget that I booked you?

Reyes smirked, scooping a perfect quinoa-chicken bite, blowing cool before pressing to Emily’s lips. "I remember, Emily. Let’s feed you now—open up."

Emily tapped quick—I can eat by myself.

"You have no strength left, Emily," Reyes murmured, voice stern as she nudged the fork insistent, watching those lips parting reluctantly.

I paid you!

"Yes, I remember that."

How did you know to cook all these things? It’s like you are a hidden cook!

"I was in the army. Sometimes, my missions were undercover."

So, you hid yourself from me!!

’Aren’t you hiding something, Emily?’ Reyes’s eyes darkened at the thought, but she still smiled. She said, "Well, you know that now, right?"

Yes!!

"Besides, even if you did, you couldn’t fight me off—not like this, all soft and weak in my lap."

Put me down then!

"I let you sit on me because you can’t sit normally. Even if I put you down, you won’t be able to fight me, Emily. Now come on, open up your mouth."

The first bite slipped home easy—tender chicken and fluffy quinoa melting pleasantly on Emily’s tongue—Reyes’s free hand steadying her waist possessive, thumb tracing lazy circles over cream sweater fabric, alpha instincts purring deep content at the care, that sweet hidden scent blooming stronger with every shared breath like a drug.

Emily twisted slight in her lap then, reaching for her water glass—innocent shift of her hips grinding accidental over Reyes’s straining fly, denim pants tenting hard instant as her cock throbbed traitor pulse against the pressure.

"Emily, can you stop moving? I didn’t I say that I would whatever you want," Reyes gritted out, gravel voice strained husky, gray eyes flashing black-edged hunger, gloved fingers digging firmer into hip to still her.

Emily paused, emerald eyes wide innocent as she tapped quick—Sorry.

Pout deepened adorable, but that cute pink tongue darted out between bites—lapping quinoa grains from full lower lip, slick flash teasing unwitting torture that ratcheted Reyes’s control to fraying edge, cedar-steel scent spiking musk-heavy.

Reyes powered through relentless—forking roasted sweet potato next, then broccoli bright, yogurt-blueberry dollops cool and tart—until the plate gleamed clean, Emily’s belly full and sighing content, cheeks flushed sated.

Only then did she lift her prize gentle back to the sectional nest, blanket tucked snug, before bolting upright—boots pounding frantic retreat toward the guest bathroom down the hall, door slamming as she braced palms on sink, breaths ragged, fly palmed rough through denim to chase that torturous edge without shame.

Reyes hadn’t masturbated before. Yes, she knew how to masturbate but she didn’t attempt. Before meeting Emily, she had lived a life full of celibacy. But after meeting her, she didn’t know how longer she could control her instincts.

With a sigh, Reyes unzipped her pants, ignoring her reflection in the mirror which taunted her.

’For the first time, I lost my control...’