Game On (Omegaverse #1)

1. Tara

If being indescribably, pathetically horny in public was a criminal offense, I was risking serious jail time. Not that it was my fault, my heat had to be a day, if not hours, away, leaving me desperately clenching my thighs together as heat prickled along my skin with every shift of the early summer air.

I couldn’t tell if the stares I was getting were from the usual, ‘aw, hell, that’s a lot of tattoos!’ or because I was perfuming worse than a failing department store’s cosmetics section. The idea made me a little… uneasy. I wasn’t used to being perceived in this way. Usually there was a screen between me and whoever was keenly aware that I was wetter than a slip and slide.

Slick and slide… Tara, focus!

Right.

Faceless icons.

And the illusion, at least, of safety.

I tightened my hand around the strap of my duffle bag, breathing in a deep lungful of air—absolutely drenched in juicy, lush cherries and zesty, fresh lime.

Maybe I should’ve used the suppressants… I worried, but it was way too fucking late now. I was coming in unbelievably hot and no amount of synthetic hormones were going to be able to stop the metaphorical floodgates now that they’d opened.

With more effort than I would’ve liked, I turned my attention to the reason I’d left the safety of my nest for the loud, stinky, too-bright outside—the promise of some fucking relief. Going through my heats alone had become a routine, as uncomfortable as it made them, and I got by fine enough, but…

My knees wobbled as a beta woman passed by, the thick, cloying perfume clinging to her clothes and hair warning that not far off was an alpha who she belonged to. It was too much, the milky coffee scent too bitter and sweet at the same time.

I breathed in through my mouth, trying to clear the foggy wanting where it burrowed into the back of my skull as I trained my eyes upward, searching for the sign—or even the street number—for the, um, facility I'd chosen to spend my heat in.

For what was, realistically, a sex dungeon, Omega’s Lust Heat Hotel was pretty missable from the outside. Not that I’d call a twenty-seven story skyscraper ‘missable’, but it certainly wasn’t conspicuous.

I let the worried thought disappear as I looked up at the glass-fronted building, the sparkling surface tinted to mirror the others around it. Like this, nestled between skyscrapers with coffee shops in their lobbies, doctors offices and whatever other types of offices people with normal jobs went to based on the suits and skirts flitting from the subway stairs into revolving doors, it could’ve been just another corporate head office.

Post office? Law firm? Vet? A bank maybe?

Tara, quit stalling . I scolded myself, stepping up to the automatic doors in my scuffed sneakers.

The doors slid open with a gust of cool, scent-free air that made my shoulders—that I’d hardly realized were up to my ears—relax.

I almost expected the rubberized soles of my shoes to squeak along the damn near dark, reflective grey tile floor as I moved through the bright, airy atrium. The fountain at its center bubbling softly, helping to mute the noise from the street. An ample amount of plants dotted every available surface, adding a calming palette of natural greens to the somewhat confusing landscape of the room.

It was hard to tell exactly the sort of place I’d walked into from looks alone. Sort of a mix between a high-end spa and a medical facility.

Complete with fat golden koi swimming in the middle of the water feature.

It was… relaxing. Or would be, if my stomach wasn’t tightened into a steel knot.

Exactly the kind of environment I needed as I wobbled my way to the welcome desk, making the beta behind the counter blink as he looked up from his computer at the sound of my ragged breathing.

I always forgot that they couldn’t smell us—though in this moment, with my heat bearing down on me at any second, I was relieved of that fact. Any alpha in a ten mile radius was likely to catch a whiff of my aggressive, syrupy cherry and lime perfume. Sharp and tangy and sweet and fruity and zesty all at once.

I put my hand onto the smooth, shiny surface of the white acrylic countertop, the sweat beading along my temples doing little to cool my feverish skin.

“I’m, uh—looking to check in?” I said hopefully, as the beta continued to look at me open-mouthed from behind bottle-thick glasses with surprise. “I did the online application a couple weeks ago and submitted my documents.”

The beta—Phil, from his nametag—seemed to finally collect himself, jerking into motion quickly. “You’re very close,” he commented.

“Yeah,” I said, wondering if he expected me to be embarrassed.

“Can I see your ID?”

I fished in the front pocket of my hastily packed bag for my card case, freeing my plastic identification card from it to slide towards him. “I was working and I think I might’ve triggered it a couple days early by accident.”

I neglected to mention that my work had involved being pounded by a fuck machine controlled by my subs on Slck’d, an omega-only camming website. Sometime between pretending to beg for alpha knots in heat and trying not to come too early, I’d noticed that things were getting warm… too warm. That the act was becoming more realistic than I was ready to handle alone.

Not that I hadn’t before, I’d managed all of my heats until now solo. I hadn’t even… I mean… Not for real. Just pretend and with toys. I’d never had an alpha, or a beta for that matter, touch me in real life. Perhaps a little unusual for someone who was twenty-three… But I’d always wanted my first time with another person to be special.

For it to mean something.

So, I’d waited. Which wasn’t a big deal… But the older I got, the more intense my heats were. The harder they’d been to manage alone.

And, I’d never managed to meet the right person. As much as I wanted to hold out until I found the alpha of my dreams, designation just didn’t matter enough to me to keep the dream alive.

Besides, a girl could only handle so much alone. And I was tired of suffering through my heats with toys as company. It wasn’t even just the sex—though that definitely played a factor —omegas needed touch. Care. Something that army crawling to my tub after seventy-two hours of using a vibrator and a fuckmachine just couldn’t fulfill.

But the typical heat clinic environment really put me off. Too… medicinal. Impersonal.

Sterile.

Not to mention there was the matter of my specific appetites. Being a cam girl led me to explore a lot of kinks. And even though I’d only had experience with them in a masturbatory sense, it didn’t mean that I’d be cool with letting some vanilla ass alphahole fuck me with a dildo in missionary.

I wanted excitement.

And, I needed discretion.

I’d heard rumors of omega performers being tracked to clinics by fans eager to get a hold of them during their most vulnerable time and the idea didn’t appeal to me. At least not without a huge, and I meant massive—Titanic-sinking iceberg levels of huge—payday attached to it.

Phil typed away on his computer, looking between my ID card and the screen. “Tara Sinclair?”

“That’s me,” I said, smiling in a way that I hoped looked friendly. Usually I didn’t have any trouble with being charming, but the longer that I stood quivering at the desk, the more likely I was to jump over it and try to ride his thigh for some relief against the raging hormones making my mind cloudy.

"This is your first visit?” he confirmed and I nodded. “If you’ll follow me, we’ll confirm your information and give you a tour.”

Did we really have to do this right now? I thought. No one said anything about a tour, and in this moment, I really didn’t need it. The only thing I needed a tour of was the inside of a room and a giant, dominant alpha with hands the size of my face.

But Phil had a different idea as he led us away at a leisurely pace that had my heel drumming against the ground every time I had to stop behind him. It was giving when you were on a quest where the NPC’s move rate was slightly above your walking speed and under your run. Fucking annoying as shit.

Okay, maybe I was just being an irritable omega, but for good reason!

An alpha entered on the far side of the atrium, his smoky, woodsy scent meeting my nose not unpleasantly but not exactly to my taste either—not that you’d know given the flood of perfume that clouded around me like I was about to strip out of my clothes then and there to beg for him to knot me.

He glanced at me, and I saw the flicker of interest in his gaze. It was obvious he was on his way out, leaving from the elevators that we were headed towards, and I wasn’t that interesting now that he’d had his fix, but the momentary linger of his gaze had slick positively pooling in my panties.

We stepped into the elevator together, Phil taking my bag before pressing the button for the 15th floor, speaking as the elevator climbed. “You’ve already signed your documents electronically so I’ll try to keep things brief,” he said, clicking through screens on a tablet I’d had no recollection of him holding. “All aquatics—the pool, cold plunge, hot tub, and the steam rooms are on the tenth floor.”

“Uhuh,” I said noncommittally, willing the little glowing numbers to rise faster.

“Your room is on the 15th, this is the club level. Do you need a refresher of what comes with your package?” he asked as the doors finally slid open, moving to wait for me in a dreamy, intimately lit hallway with sparkling black walls.

I breathed out a sigh of relief and stumbled behind Phil, who I was sure was doing a good job telling me what I’d paid for and where the showers were, but I barely heard him over the blood rushing in my ears, the moments ticking by until I was pulled under and turned into a mindless, needy, sobbing mess. If the lead up was any kind of sign, it was clear to me that this heat was going to be even more intense than the last.

I’d almost run outside to throw myself at an alpha on the street. It’d been so hot that I’d opened the window and then, well, one thing led to another… His pungent rose scent wasn’t even that appealing, but I needed to be touched, enough that I almost did something dangerous.

Hence, Omega’s Lust.

Partners with a written list of my boundaries. A certain level of safety that I just wouldn’t find outside on my own.

It didn’t take long until we arrived at the end of the long, dimly lit hall. Passing by a number of doors that reminded me a lot of a typical hotel, keycard readers outside of heavy nondescript doors with little hangtags.

Shhh! Sleeping Omega!

The glass door at the end of the hall opened into a cozy seating area and kitchen stocked to the brim with snacks, grab-and-go meals, drinks in glass jars, and cupboards and refrigerators.

Phil led me to a chair I was sure would be ruined by the time I stood up—though I easily dropped into it anyway, sure my legs were going to give out any minute. I wasn’t even sure how I’d lasted this long.

Luckily it seemed the air in here was on, and did a bit to help cool the raging inferno building in my core, but not enough. There was something… off about the smell of the room though. Like it was muted, somehow.

Phil handed me a keycard that he produced from the pocket of his button-up shirt. “You’ll be in studio thirteen. I’ll lead you there after we go over your stoplight sheet. This is the lounge for the floor—you’ll have regular deliveries of snacks, meals, and water, but if you need anything, or want anything else, you are welcome to take whatever.”

I nodded, still ruminating in the back of my mind about the strangeness of the comfortable space.

“Staff will check on you regularly unless you put your card on the door requesting privacy. Your alpha, or alphas, are also trained to reach out if you need anything whatsoever, and our front desk is manned twenty-four hours.”

“Okay…” then, it hit me. “It doesn’t smell like alpha in here.”

Phil laughed, shaking his head, and I wanted to strangle him… or have my way with him, I couldn’t decide. “Of course not. The alphas enter from doors on the other side of the room, this area is private for you omegas, save for a few members of our team—betas, don’t worry—” he said, mistaking my the eager gleam in my eye for apprehension as he patted my hand. “Who ensure that our cleanliness standards continue to be met.”

“Right…” I nodded, clearing my throat. “Of course.”

“Alright, so…” he tapped away at a couple screens. “Green lights—Oh, um…”

“Maybe it’s easier if you just go through the yellows and red,” I offered, knowing that I’d greenlit everything from the basics like praise, breeding, and oral—to kitten play, shibari and flogging.

I nodded as he looked at me for confirmation. “Yellow lights—” he paused, uncertainty clouding his tone. “Penetration…?”

Yeah, Phil. I don’t know why I’m here then either buddy.

I nodded.

Now sure it wasn’t a mistake, Phil confirmed it and continued. “Red lights—age play, scat, somnophilia?”

“Yep, all correct,” I said, a bit of attitude filtering into my tone. But could I be blamed?

I was on the edge of a total heat-fueled meltdown and being forced to think about the least sexy things I could think of.

“Safe word?”

“Photosynthesis.”

“Fantastic, if you’ll follow me, I can show you to your room.” A few more taps on the tablet, and Phil is on his feet again, motioning for me to follow him.

Fucking finally , I thought, as we made our way back down the hall to the door marked number thirteen.

“Use your keycard please, I’d like to make sure it works.”

I did as the beta instructed, the reader lighting green and the handle giving to my touch as I swung the door inward to a room that I’d only pictured in my wildest, sex-dungeon-soaked dreams.

There was a small bathroom with a freestanding tub just to the right of the door, a closet with open shelves lined with pillows and blankets, a hamper and a fluffy white robe on the other side. Further into the room, the deep purple walls were warmed slightly by lamps dotted on every surface, keeping things comfortably dim.

The far wall housed a door and mirror, as well as racks of whips, belts, and floggers of every shape, size, and color. Curious little sliding panels dotted along the bottom half of the wall like wainscoting, and I realized with a voracious pang of need that they opened to the gloryholes I’d seen the room fitted with on the website.

I turned and the bed—bigger than a king and sat in the middle of the room with what looked like a heaping pile of soft comforters, throws, and pillows—caught my eye. My instincts pulled me forward to begin rearranging things while Phil set my bag on the bed, mind going a mile a minute.

It was a bit of a tail spin.

I was torn. On one end, the idea of nesting with whatever alpha came though that door was a little embarrassing, they were just some guy looking to fuck me, and it wasn’t like I hadn’t spent enough heats alone to know that I could handle it… But on the other? I had spent so many heats alone that the idea of cuddling up with someone afterwards and not having to feel the void that came with nesting alone… Okay, yeah. I wanted that.

“Your alpha will come from over there,” Phil said, pointing to the door and pulling my attention away from meticulously refolding a plush velour blanket in deep blue. “That side opens to another hall, a mirror of the one we came from, except the door locks from this side only, so you can allow as much or as little access as you want.”

I nodded, but suddenly his words confused me. “If I keep them on that side, how will they fuck me?”

Though I wasn’t sure if I even wanted them to fuck me, the idea still bore consideration.

He strides forward, showing me how to open the sliding panels. “If you prefer less contact, you can use these. It’s all about the level of contact that meets your needs.”

“I see…” I muttered, something about the open-close making me hot all over. The idea that I’d be able to touch—and be touched—by an alpha who didn’t know what I even looked like… It was exhilarating.

Not much of a surprise, I wasn’t only a camgirl because the money was good. I also had a wicked love for being watched. Not just watched, watched by strangers.

An audience I didn’t actually know.

One I couldn’t see.

Something about it had always intrigued me, and maybe being with a partner who I couldn’t see, who couldn’t see me, would be even hotter.

“There’s a full bathroom and shower over there, along with a few robes. If you ever need anything, press this button,” he points it out on the side of the bedside table. “Someone will come around straight away. Also, there are no cameras, but there is audio. If you say your safe word, the system will alert us and someone will check on you soon after.”

I crawled up onto the bed now, feeling the soft blankets under my hands and legs before pressing my face right into a pillow for a deep inhale. My stomach panged, nothing. No scent, not even laundry soap.

Fuck, I needed an alpha.

A needy, desperate omega whine slipped between my clenched teeth as I tore into my bag, pulling out my own pillows and blankets, anything that I could hastily grab that smelled like me.

“Sounds good. A reminder that we use the stoplight system here. If there’s any issues or questions, let us know. Someone should be with you soon.”

“Great, thank you,” I barely managed to choke out as Phil finally left me alone in the toy filled room.

My clothes found the inside of my bag before I kicked it under the bed, diving back into the bed to slowly rub my needy clit, trying to relieve the ache.

It wasn’t enough. I needed to be stretched. Filled.

I rolled to the drawer next to the bed and opened it to a plethora of dildos. All long, girthy, with a simulated knot at the bottom. This collection almost rivaled mine, and I was shocked, no one ever had a larger collection than me.

It was a point of professional pride.

I reached for a large pink one—probably second largest in the dresser—and ran my hand over it, stroking it like it was real, like this was one of my streams, before guiding it towards my entrance and teasing myself the way I thought an alpha would before pushing the tip in. It was just like always, it felt good but wasn’t enough.

I shoved it in further, all the way down to the knot, letting it stretch me. I quickly reached into the second drawer and grabbed one of the bullet vibrators, pressing it to my clit hard. Though I moaned loudly and fucked back against it, it didn’t feel the same. Didn’t feel right.

I needed an alpha.