Chapter 15 Syra
Something rustles in the darkness, something light and soft falling to the natural stone floor. Normally I wouldn’t have been able to hear a sound like that over the sound of rushing water echoing through the cave, but right now my hearing is hyper sensitive thanks to my heat and the proximity of the alpha named Brik.
“What was that?” I ask.
“My loincloth,” Brik answers matter-of-factly.
A thrill of excitement spirals through me. Now we are both naked in the dark, me and this handsome young alpha with the hard muscles and sexy piercings. The omega in me wants to reach out and touch him, to feel if his body is as aroused as mine is, but I restrain that shameful urge. This alpha is a total stranger to me. True, he did help save me from the Farlanders, but beyond that, I know nothing about him. Nothing at all.
“Why did you take your loincloth off?” I ask, trying to hide the tremor in my voice.
Brik chuckles. “I don’t want to get it wet.”
“You’re not the one taking a bath,” I tell him. “I am.”
This time he doesn’t chuckle, but I can practically see him smirking in spite of the darkness.
“You heard what Thorus said. He very clearly commanded me to bathe you. And you already know how obedient I am when it comes to my pack master’s commands.”
I think back to a few minutes ago when we first arrived at the cave, and I made a comment about Brik asking Thorus’s permission to piss. I’m starting to wish I hadn’t said that.
“I’m not a child,” I say. “I can bathe myself.”
The alpha takes a step toward me. I don’t hear him move, but I sense the heat of his naked body, and I smell the raw, masculine alpha-scent wafting off his skin. When he speaks, his voice is a smoky whisper, barely audible over the splashing of the water.
“You do not wish me to bathe you, omega?”
“No,” I answer.
It’s not a lie exactly. More like a half truth. My heat wants him to bathe me. My heat wants to feel his strong hands sliding over every inch of my body, exploring me, seeking out my need and extinguishing it with his fingers and his tongue. And more than anything, my heat wants to feel him inside me, thrusting, pumping, bathing my insides with his hot, sticky cream while I howl and moan and beg.
That’s what my heat wants.
But eventually my heat will be gone, and I’ll be left to live with the shame—the shame of knowing I allowed myself to be dominated by an alpha I barely even know.
Brik sighs.
Before I have a chance to react or pull away from him, he seizes my wrist and raises my hand so it is palm up in front of me. I gasp, and my heart races in nervous anticipation.
As expected, the thing which he placed into my open hand is big and hard and smooth, but it is not warm, nor is it round. It is blocky and slightly cool to the touch, with a somewhat waxy texture.
“Soap,” Brik grunts.
“You’re going to let me bathe myself?” I ask as I experience an odd mingling of relief and disappointment.
“Just be careful,” he says. “Thorus will have my ass if you slip and hurt yourself.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise?”
“Promise,” I grumble.
I take the soap and step into the water. It is pleasantly warm. I wade deeper into the middle of the pool, where the water comes up past my knees. Then I carefully walk under the spray of water raining down from above. It feels amazing. Once my hair and skin are fully soaked, I take the bar of soap and work it into a lather, which I spread all over my body, cleansing away all the dirt and sweat and blood.
But there are some things even soap and water cannot wash away. The stiffness in nipples, for example, or the hot, throbbing need down between my legs. The things Markus and Thorus did to me this morning helped cool the flames of my heat for a little while, but now the fire is rising again, and I fear that soon it will be raging out of control, and I will be at the mercy of three dominant alphas.
I mustn’t let that happen.
Cautiously, I slip one hand down between my legs and touch the taut bud of my clitoris. It is even more sensitive than I realized, and a desperate cry almost escapes my lips, but I bite it back at the last moment. Thank the Source for that. Brik is still standing over there by the edge of the pool, and though he cannot see the way I am touching myself, he would surely be able to hear if I let even the slightest gasp of pleasure slip out.
Once I have recovered, I start to stroke my clitoris, slowly at first, then a little faster. Last night, in the barn, I failed to climax by myself, but today I have a whole slew of recent memories to help me. I have the sensation of Markus’s long, hard dick sliding into my body, and the flavor of his hot cum spilling onto my tongue. I have the memory of Thorus touching me inside with his voice, making me come over and over again, until it felt as if I would die from pleasure.
And I also have Brik’s rich, masculine scent.
That’s not a memory. It’s right here in the room with me, and it’s the piece that finally pushes me over the edge and helps me achieve the release my body so desperately needs. The climax hits me hard, like the crack of a whip, and it’s all I can do to keep from screaming. I bite down on my lip so hard I draw blood.
And as the pleasure of my orgasm slowly fades, I realize with horror that it has done nothing to lessen the intensity of my need. Indeed, it has only made it stronger.
“Why don’t you want me to bathe you, omega?”
The suddenness of Brik’s question startles me, and my body goes rigid as stone beneath the pelting drops of water falling from above.
“What?” I gasp.
“Why don’t you want me to bathe you? Is it because of Markus?”
“Markus?”
“Yeah. Is he your mate?”
“No!” I blurt. “He’s just my… my friend.”
“Friend with benefits, huh?”
Before I can think of any choice words with which to answer the nosy alpha, the wet bar of soap shoots out of my hand and lands in the water with a loud plop! I quickly bend over to retrieve it before the current of the water drags it away, and in the process I do the one thing I promised Brik I wouldn’t do.
I slip.
Losing one’s footing is never a pleasant experience. Doing it in total pitch-black darkness is even less fun. My stomach jumps up into my throat, and the whole universe whirls around me as I fall.
But I never actually hit the water. Before I can even process what is happening, strong hands and corded muscles are wrapping themselves around my body and pulling me upright again. I put my hands up, and they are met with a solid wall of hard muscle and smooth skin.
“Careful, little omega.”
Brik is in the pool with me, holding my naked body tightly against his own. His reflexes are impressive, even for an alpha, but right now his reflexes are the last thing on my mind.
Earlier, I wondered about the status of his arousal. Now I know. I can feel it pressing against my tummy, hard and hot and oh so long.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “Um… you can let me go now.”
“I don’t think so, omega. You promised you wouldn’t slip, then you broke your promise. That means we’re reverting to the original plan. I’m going to bathe you.”
“I’m already clean.”
“Are you?” Brik sniffs. “I still smell blood.”
He brings his face down close to mine and snuffles me like a dog, checking my forehead, my cheeks, my neck. At last he hones in on the source of the scent—my lips. When I was coming a moment ago, I bit my lip so hard I drew blood.
Brik cleans the blood away with a flick of his tongue.
The next thing I know, his lips are locked with mine. I’m not really sure which one of us started the kiss, but it’s clear neither of us wants it to end. We are hungry for each other. Starving. We devour each other’s mouths like a pair of ravening animals, moaning and growling as our tongues writhe together. Just as I feel myself starting to surrender completely, I break the kiss and pull away, to the extent that Brik’s powerful arms will allow.
“Wait,” I gasp. “I… we shouldn’t do this.”
“Why not? Does my kissing not please you?”
“No, it’s not that.” Quite the opposite, in fact. His kissing pleases me a little too much.
Brik stiffens slightly. “Is it Markus?”
“No, that’s not it either,” I say, though in truth that is part of it. Markus is not my mate, but I’d be lying if I said he was only my friend. What we did together last night in the mausoleum changed all that. I have not pledged myself to him, but I know he would not be happy about the way Brik is holding me right now, and I have to admit, I do feel a little guilty about it.
But that kiss though. And this hard body. It’s more than my heat-ridden mind can handle.
“I don’t even know you,” I say. “I only met you a few hours ago.”
“What do you need to know? I am an alpha, you are an omega, and we are both highly attracted to each other.”
I start to scold the cocky alpha for being so presumptuous, but he cuts me off before I can say anything.
“Don’t try to deny it, omega. I can smell your arousal. Now turn around.”
I don’t have to obey the alpha’s command; he turns my body for me. I hear him fishing in the water for the chunk of soap I dropped, and after a moment, he finds it. He pulls me tight against his body again, only this time my back is pressed against his front, and his naked erection is nestled into the cleft of my bare backside.
Then his powerful arms coil around me again, and his big, strong hands are on my breasts, squeezing and caressing them as he spreads the soap all over my skin. I know I shouldn’t allow him to do that, but it feels too good to try and make him stop.
Source, he’s good at this. I think he must have practiced on other omegas before me, and although I know it’s absurd, that thought ignites a flame of jealousy inside me.
“What about you?” I ask. “Do you… have a mate?”
“Not yet,” Brik answers. He gives my breasts a firm squeeze and brings his lips down to my ear. “If I did, do you think I would be touching you like this, Syra?”
He has a point. In general, the alphas of the Central Ruins are fiercely faithful to their omega mates. It is said that the mating ritual binds their very souls together in an inseparable bond. There are exceptions, of course. Delphine and her alphas come to mind. I’m pretty sure those alphas were her mates, but they still wanted to rape me, and Delphine would have let them if Markus had not shown up when he did.
Markus.
Source, what would he think if he saw Brik touching me like this? I’m pretty sure there would be blood spilled over it. Over me.
As if reading my thoughts, Brik asks, “What were you doing with Markus in that graveyard?”
I feel the blood come rushing back into my face, partly from embarrassment, partly from anger, but mostly from the intense heat that is getting stronger and stronger with every stroke of Brik’s skillful hands.
“I would think that was obvious,” I answer, “based on the state we were in when you found us.”
Brik growls in annoyance. “You know what I mean, omega. Why did you choose that place to do it, and why with him? Did he force himself on you?”
“No!” I almost shout. “Markus would never do that. You heard what he said in the graveyard. He was asleep when we mated.”
“I heard him say it. I’m not sure I believe it, though.”
“It’s true. Last night he drank a sleeping potion, and he told me to use his body however I needed.”
“Why the hell would he do that?” Brik asks, sounding genuinely confused.
“Because he’s my friend,” I whisper. “And he wanted to help me through my… my…”
I’m not sure when it happened, but at some point during our conversation, one of Brik’s hands found its way down between my legs, and now one of his fingers is gently drawing back the little strip of skin that covers my clitoris like a hood. This realization is met with a throb of desire, and a gush of warm slick.
“Help you through your what?” Brik asks.
“My heat,” I whimper.
Brik rewards my answer by gently gliding a fingertip over my exposed clit. That touch sends sparks of hot pleasure racing through my core. Then he begins to run his finger in tight swirls over my aching bud. Within a matter of seconds, he has brought me right up the very edge of the release that my heat-stricken body so desperately needs…
But at the last moment, he moves his finger away from my clit, leaving me trembling with unrelieved desire.
“Why there?” he asks. “Why a graveyard? That is forbidden land.”
I want to tell him it is none of his damned business, but I want his touch more. Maybe if I answer his questions, he’ll give it to me.
“We thought we would be safe there,” I tell him, “We thought no one would disturb us while…”
Brik puts his finger on my clit again and begins to stir it in slow, tight circles. I moan softly as he finishes my sentence for me.
“While you were using his body to quell your heat.”
“Yes,” I answer. “Oh Source, yes…”
“Only it didn’t work out so well, did it? Markus failed to satisfy your need, and you got interrupted by the Farlanders too. Where were you before you went to the graveyard?”
“What?” I gasp. The sudden shift in his line of questioning throws me off a little, but I’m more focused on what his finger is doing between my legs than the questions he’s asking me. I’m so close now. So very, very close.
“I said: where did you go before you went to the graveyard?”
“Nowhere.”
Again, Brik’s finger moves away from my clitoris, and again my release is denied, but this time the denial is even more painful. Were it not for the drops of water showering me from above, I swear my body would burst into flames.
“You must have been somewhere,” Brik says with a snarl. The sound is intended to intimidate, but it only serves to heighten my desire. “Tell me where you were, omega, and don’t you dare lie to me. I’ll know if you’re lying.”
His warning is pointless. My mind is in no state for concocting lies.
I tell Brik everything. Every last detail.
I tell him about the barn and my satchel full of tools. I tell him about Delphine and her pack of sadistic alphas. I tell how Markus saved me, how he took me to the mausoleum in the center of the graveyard, how I rode him, how I came. I tell him how badly I need to come now, how badly I need him to make me do it. I beg for it with bitter tears running down my cheeks and hot slick dripping down my thighs.
“Shh,” Brik says, “Good girl. I will give you what you need. You have earned it.”
This time, there is no teasing, no drawing things out. He finishes me with merciful efficiency, the way a hunter finishes his prey. Only instead of a single death, he gives me half a dozen of them, forcing me through one intense climax into the next, until my body is weak from coming.
“Good girl.” His pierced lip brushes against the shell of my ear. “Does that feel better now?”
It does feel better.
A lot better.
But the relief is only temporary. A moment later, a surge of hot rage takes its place. Rage at the way Brik just manipulated me. That wasn’t a conversation we were just having, it was an interrogation, and he was using my heat to torture me.
“You’re a bastard,” I snarl.
“Syra…”
Before he can finish whatever it is he has to say, I twist away from him, leap out of the pool, and run naked and dripping into the darkness of the cave.