Chapter 13 – Shiloh
Chapter Thirteen
Shiloh
I wake sweating, twisted in my sheets with a slickness between my cheeks that shouldn't be there. Fuck. Rubbing against the sheets, I whine. What was happening? Wrapping a hand around my aching cock, my fingers come away sticky and wet—I’ve already come once in my sleep.
I don’t know what’s making me so horny or why it’s making my head hazy. Since Zion had been nagging me, we worked out that I was likely about to experience a long overdue heat in a few weeks. But this was too soon. I was supposed to have more time. Is it because I haven’t had one in so long? Had I forgotten how intense this could be?
With a softer, sleepy moan, I use my cum as lube, the wetness making me arch my back and curl my toes. Chasing my orgasm when my body is like this always feels like an impossibility.
It isn’t enough.
It never is.
I swallow back a sob. In this moment, I hate my suppressants, for dulling all the sensations. For making them muted and out of reach. I want to come, I want to feel that pleasure like a fucking freight train hitting me.
It’s not enough.
With a squeeze to the base of my dick, I roll over and grab my tentacle dildo from the bedside table where I’d put it last night after using it in the shower. Spending five hours next to Zale had been too much for me, driving me to insanity. When I’d made my quick exit last night, I’d needed a release and I’d been shocked at how quickly I’d managed to make myself come. Clearly the entire drive has been some form of tortuous edging.
The tentacle toy had fast become my firm favorite, with every session ending in an orgasm, even if I had to really work for it. The big fat knot near the base and the suction cup meant I could use it anywhere and feel stuffed as I chased my climax. As an omega trying to hide my nature, it wasn’t like I could go out and find any old alpha to knot me. It was a risk I couldn’t take, so this was the next best thing.
Deciding to stick it to the headboard, I get onto my knees and slowly easy myself backward. Given how slick and desperate I already am, and how I’d already used it last night, stretching myself out in the shower, it’s easy to push through the softened ring of muscle until it’s buried inside me all the way to the knot.
More , my omega side begs, clawing at my insides, begging for relief. More. More. More. I’m not ready for the knot yet, but if I don’t come soon, I’m worried it won’t stop this incessant need either. It’s like a tsunami, swelling up inside me, pulling back in the water before a huge wave.
Moving at a steady pace, I try to calm my racing heart. I’m overstimulated, my skin almost hurting as my pheromones try to peak. Fucking into my tight fist with every thrust, I back onto my tentacle until I’m overwhelmed and dripping with sweat. My orgasm lingers painfully on the precipice, just out of reach.
Growling with frustration, I move faster, fucking back harder, faster, feeling the knot stretching my rim a little more each time as I work my way down on it.
More. Alpha. More.
A keening noise rips its way out of my throat, as I straighten up on my knees, half of the knot inside me. The burn from the stretch is delicious, licking its way up my body and making my cock throb. My balls are so tight against my body, release so close I can almost taste it on the tip of my tongue.
Alpha. More. Please.
The scent of something smokey and sweet reaches my nose. Please.
“Shiloh? Is everything–shit!” The door swings open, and Zale stands there, mouth open as he turns a shade of beetroot. It does nothing to stop me, I’m too close, lost to the pre-heat haze. So close to the edge. Alpha. More.
The shock of his entry has me pushing backwards against the headboard with more force than planned, the knot now lodged firmly in my ass pressing against my prostate as I shoot hot ribbons of cum everywhere before falling forward onto my bed with a groan.
“I…I should have knocked. I’m sorry.”
“Get. Out. Zale.” My face is buried in my sheets, and I think I’ve just gotten cum in my hair as I wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t.
“I just heard you and thought something was wrong.” He’s still standing there, and when I turn my face to glance at him as my cock keeps dribbling cum, he’s looking more embarrassed than me. As if that was even possible.
“Zale,” I warn, too afraid to move in case I start coming again. Traitorous body.
“Shit, I really am?—”
“Out!” I yell, throwing a pillow at him, no longer caring that I’m naked and exposed but just needing him to leave my room.
After my embarrassing little show, I shower, change the sheets and crawl back into bed for a few hours. Something about Zale’s presence had calmed the frenzy that had come over me. The omega in me enjoyed his nearness, while the ‘beta’ side of me was disgusted that I’d needed an alpha to stop acting like a crazed horny animal.
A quick search on my phone confirmed my theory that it was just a pre-heat haze, likely made worse by my long-term use of suppressants. Zion was definitely going to lecture me about this when I told him.
It doesn’t stop me from hiding in my room watching a film about a fish who wants to be a girl until after lunch, my grumbling stomach finally forcing me to leave in search of food. As I enter the kitchen, Zale sits at the island counter with a cup of coffee. He perks up when he sees me and it’s like a current of electricity being zapped through my exhausted body.
He’s wearing a white T-shirt and a pair of light-faded jeans with holes in both knees. They look plain and pretty nondescript, but I can tell by the fit they are from an expensive brand.
Glancing over, I spot that he’s searching for quick and easy recipes on his phone. I bet he can’t cook. Great. Not only did I deliver the jock to my sister for her birthday, but I also have to feed him and provide his entertainment too. Lucky me.
He straightens, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Shiloh. I shouldn’t have?—”
I hold my hand up to silence him and I pull a pack of chicken breast out of the fridge, along with some salad. “Shut up, Zale. We aren’t going to talk about it.”
Shutting it down was the best thing to do. He was my sister’s boyfriend and I’m not sure I had the strength to close Pandora's box once it was opened.
“But…”
“No buts. Not talking about shit is the only option right now.” I click my tongue, ignoring his pink cheeks as we both think about the blowjob incident and this morning’s little performance. What was it about Zale Blackwood that meant my decorum and sanity evaporated like the last dregs of water in a desert?
Placing the food on the counter, I grab a big pot, shoving it against his chest. “So, put the potatoes in the pan and keep your mouth shut. It’s not hard.”
I realize my mistake as soon as the word ‘hard’ leaves my mouth. After a minute, he does as I ask.
Another minute later, when we’re standing almost shoulder to shoulder as I prep the chicken, cutting it into strips, he turns to me.
I can feel it but I refuse to look at him.
Instead, I growl. “No, don’t you dare.”
“Fine.” He chuckles, and I can feel his broad shoulders moving as we don’t talk about the unintentional dick pun.
Zale sits down opposite me, so I have no choice but to glance at him as he rests his chin in his huge hands. “Is that what you meant when you said you’d be ‘enjoying your space’?”
I see red. With a sigh, I slam my knife down on the chopping board. “I swear to all things holy, I will rip your tongue out of your head Zale Blackwood and boil it in a stew.”
I’m barely keeping my sanity hanging on by a thread. No doubt he’ll tell the others when they arrive, and they’ll all have a big laugh about it—especially Sadie. That bitch loved to try to bring me down to her level on the regular.
Add it to the rumors about me fucking anything that moves, and I’m sure I’ll be the topic of many discussions when we go back to college in January. I didn’t need to give the other students at Oakley more ammunition to use against me, but here we are.
“Fine, fine!” He holds his hands up in surrender, laughing as I pick up the knife and point it at him with a glare.
He just grins, his smile wide as his blue eyes twinkle with mischief. I don’t care what he’s planning, I want no part of it. I’d learned the hard way that there weren't many people in this world you could trust.
And while Zale may be showing me his best side, there’s no doubt in my mind that it was all for my sister. He’s only playing nice to make an effort with his girlfriend’s brother, his potential future brother-in-law. I doubt that any of it is genuine, despite the weird things that keep happening between us so I refuse to trust his easy smiles no matter how attractive they make him look.
I don’t think I’d actually seen him smile as much as he has been since he walked through the front door of the cabin. It was almost like he was a different person.
Luckily, we’re interrupted by a cheesy pop song blasting through the kitchen. “Shit, that’s my phone.”
He glances across to where it’s vibrating against the countertop.
“Answer it then,” I reply as I finish cutting the chicken, throwing it into a bowl with some seasoning and natural yogurt. My skin still feels tight and warm, but I don’t want to talk, think or even refer to what happened this morning, so instead I pour all my focus into getting us both fed. Once the chicken is coated, I wash my hands and turn the oven on.
Tapping his fingers against the kitchen worktop, Zale chews on his bottom lip. “It’s probably Millie.”
“Mmmm. Probably.” I nod, looking for a baking tray, nudging him out of my way with a casual bump of my shoulder.
His hesitation is strange, almost like he’s debating whether or not to answer. Why wouldn’t he pick up? There’s an odd tugging at the back of my brain. Am I imagining his reluctance because I’m desperately searching for a flaw in his relationship or is it actually there? My thoughts drift off to his alibi for yesterday, the one that didn’t make sense.
Just who was Zale Blackwood really? And what skeletons was he keeping in his closet?
After a few more rings, and us both staring at the device in silence, he snatches it up and takes it out onto the patio decking. I don’t bother trying to listen in, I tell myself it’s because I don’t really care. I just want this weekend over with, so I can go home and make that appointment with Zion. Placing my hands on the counter, I exhale slowly, trying to calm my erratic heart rate and ignore the slightly slick feeling between my ass cheeks. I couldn’t put it off any longer.
I can’t be in heat yet, I’ve taken so many suppressants that if I swallow anymore, I’m going to run out before the end of the weekend. Rubbing my neck near my bite mark, my skin feels like it’s on fire. Was that causing the unstable heat symptoms? My warped half-bond?
Squirming a little, I try to get comfortable. Pushing down on my half hard cock with the heel of my hand. I try to ease some of the pressure but it only makes it worse. What I need is an alpha to fill me. To stretch me. To cover me with pheromones. Over my trousers, I give myself a gentle tug, jumping guiltily when I hear Zale coming back inside the cabin.
“So…she says they’re not going to be here today. There’s been a delay.” His smile is tight, forced as he comes back into the kitchen. He runs a hand through his already ruffled hair, it looks like he’s been tugging on it. “Evans was arrested last night for fighting in a bar and they’re still holding him. They’ve delayed the flight, but the pilot said they can only get flight clearance for tomorrow now.”
“Oh.” I don’t really know what else to say. It doesn’t surprise me. Evans was also an alpha from the football team, but unlike Zale, he’s basically a giant ball of unpredictable energy. He liked to shoulder barge me occasionally in the corridors whenever Millie wasn’t around.
Have you ever been shoulder barged by a linebacker?
Zero out of ten, do not recommend.
“Yeah.” He shrugs awkwardly. “So, I guess it’s just me and you again for another night.”
Shit. I knew this weekend was going to suck, but why was the world conspiring to keep me away from my tentacle, anime and snacks? All I wanted was to ride out this pre-heat haze in comfort, fucked and fed. I didn’t even care about my birthday. Did the universe hate me?
Turning, I put the tray of marinated chicken in the oven and set the timer. The back of my neck prickles, like I’m being watched but when I turn back, Zale is glued to his phone. I bet the group chat is going crazy with all the drama from Evans’ arrest.
He coughs awkwardly, “How about after lunch we take a look at the project again? We might as well get it finished while we’re both here.”
“Sure,” I say with a shrug. I mean, it’s not like I’ve got anything better to do until someone else arrives to babysit the surprisingly needy jock.