My Father Sold Me to a bunch of Crazy Alphas Chapter 166: Melting Cake Frosting ( Emiliano’s POV )

"Please eat."

"I’m just not that hungry now."

"Puppy, it’s been days."

"You kept a week without food and drinkable water.I’ll be fine."

They say that marriage is quite hard work. It’s not easy to help your spouse through his lower points as his character might co out as unsavory sotis.

But Luther’s mouth has always been a problem, trying so adorably to cause distress with various remarks. I found that little quirk of his quite charming.

It could have been the context of how we’ve t and my inability to kill him since he was the main source of my future plans—

But I grew quite attached to it.

It isn’t the first ti that Luther lost his voice in a depressive episode in our marriage. Yet this ti was different.

His mouth was now out of service for both comntaries and feeding.

I don’t mind spoiling my wife a bit, indulging him in his coping with losing another of his own pets. Not that I ever killed one of his precious delusions.

After Killian shot Lior, I spent several hours resurrecting him from the bridge of death. It’s quite a miracle I did.

After all, when I suspended Lior into the air— skin beautifully tied into wings, the very mbrane of his lungs exposed to the air, blood pouring down from the wound in a spectacular rain—

I made sure everything was fixable. It was imperative for to use Lior to his full potential–

A haunting image to traumatize my dear Luther enough to never dare leaving my side again.

An ace in my sleeve to ensure the upper hand in future argunts as people coming back from the dead because of an act of kindness and brilliance on my part was ant to soften Luther.

Of course, I have not expected that moron of an alpha to shoot my beautiful creation in a pathetic act of violence he called kindness.

But nonetheless— I fixed my puppy’s pet for future use.

I also allowed Tom and the flamboyant step-brother of Tymoth Alpin to live.

They sure co out useful.

Yet, my dear wife faints and whines every ti I play a little rougher with his pets.

I must admit that I am trying my best to be patient and supportive as a husband and owner, but every second that passes my tolerance for these tantrums is frowning thin.

"You asked for chocolate cake, puppy. I can let you have dessert first!"

"Don’t yell at !"

I couldn’t help, but rub my temples as I tried to keep myself collected.

It was fine.

I wanted this. I wanted to be with Luther instead of out, witnessing the first steps towards my perfect society.

It’s just a rocky road down the long path of our marriage. I doubt we will even rember this pulsating annoyance that is throbbing painfully beneath my skull.

"I am sorry. I just want you to eat."

"If I take a bite of that damned chocolate cake, would you f-ck off and leave alone?"

"No."

It was obvious that I was not the only one growing frustrated with this unfortunate argunt.

Luther’s eye bags have changed color almost to the point of matching his purple eyes. He has lost any spark he held in them.

His lips have dried from dehydration and his hair has lost the bounce in his curls.

Yet, I loved him nonetheless.

"Ugh. Being holess was better than this."

"Of course it was. Cuz you were never truly holess."

"What do you know about what I’ve been through? You were too busy lting your teeth and killing innocent people."

My temper with Luther was always short and uncharacteristic of , but maybe that is why a part of feels so free around him.

But that part is atomically sized besides the frustration and tension I feel in comparison.

So it wasn’t really a surprise when I banged the plate of cake on the counter. Luckily, it didn’t break, but pieces of frosting flew everywhere—

From my face to Luther’s face, our clothes being stained by the thing that was supposed to relieve the tension in the air.

My anger didn’t lt alongside the butter frost.

I didn’t even co to realize I was shoving cake in Luther’s mouth until he started choking.

The sound of it sent a shock down my spine, but it wasn’t of worry or guilt. Excitent.

As my wife’s eyes filled with tears, the fighting spark ca right back. Of course, it could have been just the harsh light of the kitchen that reflected in his purple eyes, but I doubt it.

He was finally showing interest in sothing.And he was finally focusing on ...

Was I— jealous of my wife’s pets all along? Have I grown frustrated with his indifference to only ?

Luther didn’t accept standing there, being shoved and filled as you would expect from a detached, traumatized victim.

He bit.

I could feel my fingers going numb from the pain of his canines digging into them, I could feel the blood mixing with the frosting in his mouth.

Yet I didn’t pull back. I pressed the tips of my fingers, gripping his tongue, tugging it out in a mont of surprise on his part.

Blood, frosting, saliva— it all poured down from his tongue to my fingers as his hands wrapped around my wrist, trying desperately to free himself.

I dragged my own mouth from his grip to my fingers to my tongue, devouring my way up top. I could feel his breath panting irregularly on my face.

This— this was my puppy’s weakness. No matter how harsh he is with his mouth, one tightness of my touch and he is back in the place he belongs.

As my tongue wrapped around his own, my mouth filled with the sweetness of the cake and the tallic taste of my blood.

I think I’m getting addicted.

And judging by the scent of Luther’s pheromones, I wasn’t the only one.

F-ck, how I’ve missed this scent.

As the honey-li arsenic sll filled my lungs, my grip weakened enough for Luther to yank it away.

He took a mont to analyze , my clothes, my shaky breath. He dragged his thumb, gathering the frosting from my shirt, my neck, my lips and — without breaking eye contact— eating it up.

I didn’t even realise I was holding my breath until his teeth dug into my shoulder and his chest rose on mine.

"F-cking b-stard!", he mumbled under his trembling breath.

As my head spun around from the scent of his skin, pheromones and chocolate cake— all I could think was got you now.

"Why can’t you leave alone? Why are you so obsessed with making miserable?"

His fists banged against my chest, shaking both our bodies as his teeth dug deeper and deeper into my skin.

I could feel his breath hitch as the silence of my response hovered over us. The sound of our shivering breath uniting echoed through the kitchen, covering the mundane noise of the fridge, of the coffee machine, of the heater.

Maybe it was a taphor. Luther always had the power to transform even the most boring aspects of life into breathtaking mories.

"Answer , you jerk! You got it! You won! Everywhere I run, you can just pull my leash back and I’ll co! Now I must be happy I’m next to you as well?"

His voice growled louder and louder next to my ear as I could feel his tears raining down my skin.

F-ck. If I don’t get a grip right now, I’ll have no choice but to ruin him completely. To bury myself so deeply into him, no other pest would ever dare to co close.

I could feel my heart painfully beating out my chest as Luther nuzzled his snotty nose into the space between my neck and shoulder.

No matter how godly I’ve been acting so far, now I couldn’t help but feel so filthy right now.

And I doubt he doesn’t know what he is doing to .

His mouth dragged on my neck slowly pressing his wet lips on my skin— kissing, sucking, licking it.

He was gentle, but I couldn’t help but notice that he was tugging the area of my neck artery. One deep bite and I could bleed out right there.

And I was excited for it.

"What more do you want from , Emiliano?"

The sound of my na whined so raw and unfiltered broke any last threat of my reason.

My hands seed to grow a mind of their own as I placed Luther on the counter and myself between his legs.

His fists gripped the fabric of my shirt, not sure if to pull closer or push away.

Drenched in lted frost and cake batter, chocolate dripping from both our bodies, the ss of the wasted dessert was the last thing that was truly making this scene filthy.

"Puppy, I want you."