Chapter 11
eleven
Xenia
The nest is exactly as perfect as it seemed to be when I first saw it.
I settle back completely naked into the soft blankets and readjust a velvet cushion between my bare thighs.
My nerves are buzzing in anticipation. The door to the nest is closed, but I can hear another on the other side open and close.
My alpha is here.
Luck.
My desire rockets upwards, my entire body lighting up. But this time it isn’t in a painful way, perhaps that is because I know I am nearing a release.
My brain is fuzzy, warring between wants and needs. Instinct and choice.
Reaching up, my fingers find the button the nurse mentioned. The one that would allow me to escape this whenever I needed to. It is a reassurance in an otherwise frenzied state. I trail along the wall until I find the blindfold. Unhooking it, I bring it down.
“Nia?” His deep voice is just outside of the door now. “I’m putting the blindfold on. Are you ready for me?”
I slip mine on. “Yes, Alpha.”
With my vision taken, I am forced to rely on my other senses. The soft slink of the door opening. The slightly cold gust of air as it rushes towards me.
The sensation causes my nipples to harden into points.
“I’m at the foot of your nest,” Luck advises in a deep baritone.
He is close now.
His knot. I need his knot.
My thighs squeeze the pillow between it. “Come here, Alpha. No clothes in the nest please,” I request through clenched teeth.
I want to launch myself at this alpha. To beg for him to take the pain away from me. But I can’t.
Not yet.
“Yes, Nia. Or is Little Omega okay?” His purr vibrates directly to my cunt.
“Yes, Alpha.”
He hums his approval, and then I hear rustling as I imagine him stripping his clothes off. In my mind, I try to envision what he might look like, but I come up blank. And unfortunately, the blindfold does its job as I can only guess at the sight before me.
Reaching blindly out, I mewl. “Come here, please.” I do all I can to keep the begging out of my voice.
“Oh sweetheart,” he hums.
And then I feel him, crawling slowly up into the nest until he stops beside me. His hot breath fanning my nipples.
I can’t stop myself. I launch at him.
Luck takes it in stride. Large calloused hands finding my hips as I settle atop his hardening cock. I am wet. My slick attempting to do its job. To ready me for this alpha.
For his knot.
My head falls down, burrowing into his neck. Desperately wanting to scent him.
Whining when I can’t smell anything, I flatten myself to him. My nipples against his scratchy chest hair.
One of his hands holds onto my hip, the other frees itself to explore my body. Rough fingers trace against my sensitive skin.
He stops over a long scar across my side.
“I got that years ago,” I reassure as I feel him tense below me.
“I wish I could see you.” I don’t think he means to say that out loud. But once it is between us, the words seep into the moment.
They burrow into my skin.
I want more than anything to rip our blindfolds off, but I know that regret will shortly follow.
Luck continues his exploration of my body, until he finds his way to my neck. To my mark.
I don’t stop him.
But this time, a surprised gasp escapes him. “I didn’t realize. You said you were mated with an alpha, but Little Omega, your… Your mark hasn’t healed?” His hand cups my neck, covering the mark.
It pulsates pleasantly and traitorously beneath his hold.
“It hasn’t. Yes, I was married and mated to a singular alpha,” I confirm as a flutter of desire fights against a heavy weight of grief. “Please. I can’t right now. That is a wound that I haven’t mended from yet. He died a year ago.”
Luck doesn’t release his hold on my neck, instead he uses it to wrench me towards him. Forcing our lips together in an instant and searing connection. The blindfolds rustle against each other as he deepens the kiss.
My brain short circuits as every piece of my being focuses on the man below me. On the alpha. On his harsh lips that are slightly chapped, on the fluidity of his tongue as it dances with mine, on the power he uses to maneuver me exactly as he wishes.
And then he is flipping us, carefully, precisely. As if I am nothing more than a feather. He hovers above me, but even still, the weight of his body makes it hard to breathe. He is in control here. He is the protector. He is the alpha.
“Please.” This time, I don’t care that I’m begging. My body is painfully empty. And I know how to resolve it.
He is the answer. His cock. His knot.
Him.
“You aren’t ready.” He nips at my ear.
“I am.” I wrap my legs and arms around him, attempting to find my way to his cock, to show him how wet I am. How absolutely ready I am to take him.
He groans as my nails dig into his back. “Sweetheart. Are you sure? Once we start, you are going to be in and out. Are you sure that this is what you want?”
What choice do I have?
But I don’t say the thought out loud. Half-way into this, I decided there was no turning back. And it could be worse.
But this alpha? I don’t want him because he is an alpha.
I just want him.
And I need him to take me before the last remaining synapses of my brain calculate what that means.
It’s one thing to break my promise to Tony out of necessity and another to do it out of want.
Betrayal.
The word echoes around my skull, attempting to land.
“Yes.” I push down the agony. The heart-wrenching shame of what I am about to do. Instead, I tug the alpha back to me.
I know this time, he only moves because he chooses to. I am no match for this man’s strength. He allows me control in this moment. And I need it.
Control is a heady feeling that leaves me craving more and more. It is a sensation that I am not accustomed to.
This time, when our lips meet, it is a frenzied exchange of passion. I attempt to tell him the story of my life with my mouth and tongue, and I truly believe he is doing the same.
An isolated farmer.
A lonely omega.
He adjusts himself until I can feel the soft tip of his cock pressing into me.
Our kiss breaks, and I pant beneath him.
“Even with the scent-suppressants your slick is sweet. I wonder how it will taste,” Luck murmurs fervently in my ear, nuzzling it. “All you have to say is stop, and I will. I promise.”
And I believe him.
Digging my fingers further into him I tug him down until the entire head of his cock is inside of me, he pauses for a single instance before pressing further and further—
“Mmmm…” I moan. My body is on fire, too hot.
“There’s something wrong with her!” A man hisses from nearby. “She isn’t perfuming, but her body has gone up nearly ten degrees in the last hour, and she keeps moaning and groaning. She even stuck her hand inside my pants in her sleep.”
Blinking a few times, I attempt to figure out what exactly is going on. I was dreaming—not for the first time—of my encounter with Luck. But I am not in Serena’s guest room, nor am I in my bed, or anywhere else I recognize.
Dark eyes stare back at me. Both familiar and unfamiliar.
“Are you awake?” There’s concern in their voice.
The concern is what jogs my memory.
Pierce. The alpha who rescued me. My car. This house.
Charles is dead.
Jolting upright, I look around the space. I am in a nest.
“Omega, look at me,” Wren barks.
Jolting to him, I do as he demands.
Pierce snarls next to me; he sits up, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and tugging me to him protectively. “Stop treating her like that.” There is a double-edged meaning to Pierce’s words as he throws them at Wren.
Wren is standing in the doorway of this nest. His arms folded across his chest as he stares down at me. His bright eyes are nearly iridescent as he mulls me over.
I feel as if I am being examined under a magnifying glass, and I don’t think he likes what he finds.
“Are you going into heat?” he finally asks levelly, watching my reaction.
At this point, there’s no point hiding why I am here. It is clear this man thinks I have an ulterior motive.
And I do, but it’s not the one he expects.
“No—I’m pre—” The familiar pain hits me in the abdomen and I grunt, falling further into Pierce for support. Forceful desire shoots out all across my nerves.
This isn’t possible. I’m pregnant.
But this is exactly how my last heat began.
I run back through what could be causing this. Before I left, I washed in scent-blockers, and then when I arrived, I swallowed down a heat-suppressant.
Neither of which should cause this.
The doctor said the heat-suppressant should keep my urges at bay, but what if I was reacting poorly and it’s doing the opposite?
I must remain silent for too long because Wren clears his throat.
“Your pack sent you here when you were this close to your heat? Is this some sick joke or was that their ploy?” Wren growls at me, raising his hands up.
This time I cannot hold back my reaction. Instinctively, my legs come up and I wrap an arm around them as I cower against Pierce’s side.
I am embarrassed by my actions, and even worse, it only seems to further agitate Wren, because the next thing I know he is spinning and slamming the door shut.
Jumping at the noise, I burrow even further into Pierce until I am practically inside of his shirt. His floral and citrussy scent are the only comfort. The only reason I don’t have a complete meltdown as, once more, my designation controls my reactions.
I don’t have any choice but to continue using him for strength as the pain stabs away at me.
Instinctually, I know exactly what this is.
But I still cannot understand how.
How can I be both pregnant and in the early stages of my heat?