10. Grace
“On his way,” I hiss as I stride into the bathroom and look at the vibrators I’ve used, and cleaned since we agreed.
I can’t cope.
I must have come ten times since the last text, maybe thirteen, and I’m reaching for Ella’s most recent omega sex toy, The Master. A glass vibrator with knots. Unlike her other toys, where the knot inflates, this one is a solid glass masterpiece.
I should relax with bubbles in the tub, with a calming eye mask and scented candles, but I need real relief and knowing how close I am to getting it from the Heat Hotel on the opposite of the road, the more I’m tempted to call my chaperone and fuck a pack until my body is too exhausted and satiated to walk.
As I walk out of the bathroom, I glimpse my cell, grab it, and send him a text.
Me: You’ve got ten minutes and then I’m going to the heat hotel.
I thought we had a connection.
I thought he wanted to help me.
I never thought being in heat would be so hard without an alpha. Ella was right. I need to get my body into a heat room and fast.
But the ache between my legs needs to be sated first. Along with The Master, I grab another vibrator, a silver one with veins and a large knot, the one I was determined not to use. I take the two and crawl on the bed until my head touches the pillow.
My leggings are on the floor. I’m still wearing my cozy, fuzzy knee-high socks and a hoodie that’s far too big for me. It’s more like a dress than a sweater, but I love how soft it is on my skin.
I crawl on the bed, spread my legs while my fingers slide under the bottom of my hoodie, and I cup one breast and squeeze. My skin prickles as I pinch my nipple. The fingertips of my other hand skate over my stomach and lower until I slide them through my slickness.
Another heat spike rushes through my body before a deep shiver zips down my spine. I moan as the pulsing ache inside me gets stronger and my temperature peaks once again.
The ache will go away once you come.
I close my eyes as my fingers create some magic. Imagining an alpha doing this for me. Him circling my clit with his fingers, not me.
I groan as the fantasy takes over my thoughts. It’s his fingers teasing me, sliding through my slick before adding another finger and thrusting in and out.
His knot.
A low moan escapes my lips as I think about him clamping himself inside me just before his teeth scrape against my neck.
No.
What the hell is wrong with you, Grace?
You don’t have a fantasy to be his.
But my pussy disagrees as slick gushes as my pussy clamps around my fingers. I’m shaking and panting, thrusting in and out of myself. It’s not enough, and I grab The Master, thrusting the solid glass dildo inside me. Rubbing my clit over and over.
Finally.
“Yes,” I whimper, as my climax attacks me hard.
My chest is heaving when I open my eyes. Just as another ache descends to my pussy. “Not again.”
I can’t do this by myself anymore.
I snatch my phone off the bedside table and scroll through my contacts. Not stopping until my finger hovers over the name of the heat hotel, Sweet Heat, before I call the number.
The reception answers on the second ring. “Sweet Heat, how may I help you?”
I don’t answer immediately. Instead, I listen to voices chattering in the background.
“Hello, can I help you?” The lady’s dulcet tone melts the tension that has built in my body.
Maybe a heat hotel will work.
I press my free hand over my sweaty forehead. Mom was right. I can’t do this on my own. I need help.
“My name...”
A thud makes me jump. I straighten on the bed and stare at the hotel door.
“One moment,” I say to the lady on the call, placing her on mute.
My heart is racing as I stride across the carpet and press my face against the panel, closing one eye as I look through the peephole, but I can’t see anything but a black shirt.
“It’s me.” A lightning bolt of hot slick gushes from my pussy when I hear his deep, masculine voice.
“Who are you?” I rush to the table and grab a few tissues, wiping between my thighs and getting rid of the evidence.
“Henryluvsbetas.”
I already knew. His voice could always help to get me off, not that I slicked for him before my omega awakened.
But I’m still pissed with him. Leaving me for three hours when he told me he was on his way. “You’re too late. I’m going to the heat hotel.”
“Open the door, Scarlett.”
Do I want to do this with strangers, or with a man who my omega reacts to this way?
I don’t know what I was thinking. It’ll be a disaster. “Go away. You’re too late. I’ve booked myself into the heat hotel and I’m leaving now.”
“Open the door, Scarlett.”
“No.”
“Open the fucking door,” he growls as the handle shakes from the force of his touch.
I don’t know what he did, but my nose twitches, and my body stills as his scent forces its way through the cracks in the door.
No.
I want to say it out loud, but I can’t. I keep inhaling his sweet toasted marshmallow scent. Oh… and chocolate. It’s delicious. I want to eat him, lick every inch of his skin. Spread him on... me.
No!
“Trust me, Scarlett.” His tone is softer.
My fingers are already pulling on the handle.
His scent bursts into the room before he does. It all happens so fast, it’s as though he’s scared I’m going to change my mind.
I’m staring at a dark-haired man with a sharp jaw, that and the straight nose is as much as I can make out because of the mask he wears.
He is well over six feet tall and built like a lumberjack, but instead of a flannel shirt, he is wearing a black shirt and matching colored jeans. My eyes rise to his mask that covers the top half of his face and I see his beautiful, aqua blue eyes.
I press my hands frantically over my face and realize I forgot to slip mine on. “Oh no,” I whimper.
“It’s okay.” His voice is gentle as he steps forward and I want to step back, but I can’t stop looking at him. Can’t stop inhaling his scent. “You’re exactly how I expected you to look.”
“I am?”
“Maybe more beautiful.”
I laugh and span my hand over my make-up free face and hair that is in a sticky, messy bun on the top of my head. “Hardly.”
He tilts his head to one side. It’s only for a beat of my heart before he smiles.
He’s gorgeous. Dark hair, and eyes that are as blue as the sea looks on the postcards that my sister Harlow keeps on her bedroom wall. Specifically, the one of a yacht in the middle of the ocean.
I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to look into his beautiful eyes again, but when I open them it’s worse. His pupils flare out and take over the perfect pale blue.
My heart is thumping so hard, I’m surprised he can’t hear it.
Maybe he can.
His chest is heaving and his eyes still don’t leave mine as he inhales again.
“Fuck,” he grunts as his hand press on my arms and he pulls me to him. “You smell like mine.”
My heart clenches, but I know I need to stay strong. He can smell my omega, and as I’m in heat, no doubt that is all he wants.
“My heat is yours,” I say.
“Yes... That’s what I meant.” He licks his lips as steps another foot forward. This time I have to step back.
“No kissing,” I say. “You’re only here to fuck my heat away.”
He chuckles. “I am.”
“No catching feelings. You know I don’t want to be an omega.”
“Just fucking,” he growls as he turns to look at my nest, taking slow steps toward it.
“Stop!” I screech. I stare at him as he turns from looking at my nest to me. I wag my finger in the air. “Don’t touch it.”
He spins on his feet and strides toward me.
“Stop!”
His hands slip down my arms, over my waist, and he grabs my thighs.
With wide-open eyes, I swallow. He’s so tall, and broad. His arms fill out the shirt he wears and I can’t even go there with how amazing his thighs are as they strain against his pants.
Oh God.
He picks me up and I can’t do anything but wrap my legs around his waist as I stare at his face.
He stops walking. His eyes drop to between my thighs. “You’re not wearing panties, Scarlett.”
I’m so glad I never felt the urge to give him my real name.
“You’re right Henry. I’ve been fucking myself for three hours while I waited... and waited.”
He growls. “This pussy is mine.”
My body stills, and my omega purrs.
What the hell!
I can’t forge a sarcastic response as my muscles contract as another bout of pain rolls through me. “I hate being an omega.”
“You should be treasured,” he says, laying me on the mattress that I only now see resembles my nest. I don’t remember when I did it. Everything was folded and sitting at the edge. Only my cashmere blanket was needed.
He takes off his shirt and lays it over the back of the chair. He’s wearing a top underneath. His large hands grab the hem, lifting his tee shirt until I see what I’ve seen so many times before. Sculpted arms, wide chest and a six-pack that looks like it’s been painted on.
He is perfect. And mine!
“I want to see your face.” The mewling sound leaving my mouth is nothing like my voice.
“Sorry kitten.”
I pout at the nickname, then chuckle because I don’t hate it. “Nobody has ever called me kitten before. I thought you’d be a raging alpha and calling me Omega constantly.”
“Would you prefer that?”
I shake my head. “Is it fair that I can’t see you, but you’ve seen me now?”
“It’s best this way.”
I go to argue, but the ache in my body creeps into my stomach and lower again. I close my eyes and cry out as an invisible knife stabs at my insides.
One.
Two.
Three.
Trying to convince myself this isn’t happening so soon again.