Chapter 7 #2
My nostrils flare, eyes wide and wild, and I shove my sweats down. My cock springs free, slapping precum against my shirt as it seeps from the swollen needy tip.
Wrapping the hand with the cum soaked boxers around my cock, I shiver when I feel the cool liquid against my hot shaft.
“Fuck.” I moan, thrusting forward into my grasp. My eyes roll back as pure blinding pleasure courses through my veins.
Biting my lip, I let my head hang as I brace myself against the wall with my free hand and start to jerk myself off.
With every stroke, my body ignites, the fire inside me burning brighter and brighter. The scent fills my senses, making me lose all control as I work myself over, chest heaving as I struggle to stay standing.
Images of my alphas fill my mind.
Jamie’s cocky smirk slips as I command him onto his knees. The satisfaction of watching him drop to the ground, being a good fucking alpha, doing what his omega tells him to do.
Then I tell him to crawl to me like a good boy, and he does. The other two watch, eyes blazing with feral hunger, tied to chairs behind him.
Jamie looks up at me with need in his eyes, crawling to me like a dirty little whore.
When he gets to me, he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue, the little cum slut I know he has to be.
I smile down at him before grabbing a handful of his hair and yanking his head back. With my free hand, I shove my cock into his waiting mouth and begin to fuck his face.
The sounds of him gagging on my cock, the look of pure lust in his eyes and the way tears stream down his cheeks as he takes every punishing thrust I give him has me snapping back to reality.
My nails claw at the wall as my orgasm crashes into me. I bite my lip so hard it bleeds, trying but failing to smother my moan as my cock jerks in my hold, filling my boxers with my release, adding to the mess that was already left behind.
When my balls are wrung dry, I slump against the wall and slide down until my naked ass hits the ground.
“What the fuck did I just do?” I whisper, shame trying to overcome my post-orgasm haze.
I’m still too gone in the moment, my alpha’s scent still fucking with my head.
That's the excuse I give myself anyways as I stare at our joint releases for a while before kicking out of my sweat pants and getting to my feet.
There’s this need inside to have their scents consume me that has me take the dirty boxers and slip them on, grimacing as my cooling release presses against my still hard cock. One orgasm isn’t going to take away my hard-on.
I could keep going for hours. But I’m too tired and drained. I need to sleep off this hangover and be ready for tomorrow.
Stumbling my way over to the bed, I let myself fall down onto the crappy mattress.
My eyes close as I bury my face into the fabric and inhale deeply.
It’s fucked that having his scent on me calms every unsettling feeling waging a war inside me.
Sleep takes over as the comforting scent of pumpkin and marshmallows surrounds me.
This time, I dream. Of them. And I know there’s no running away from this.
When I wake the next morning, I’m no better than I was the night before. Still, I force myself out of bed and stumble my way to the bathroom.
Pulling my shirt off, I toss it to the ground before turning on the shower. Next, I go for my boxers and curse when it feels like someone is ripping a damn waxing strip off me.
“What the fuck?” I look down at my boxers and remember what I did before putting them on. “Fucking hell.” I growl, shoving them off me and tossing them to the ground.
Getting into the shower, I pause before stepping under the spray.
I don’t want his scent washed off me. Why the fuck do I not want his scent washed off me?
I go to duck under the spray but pause just before the water hits me.
“Fuck!” I hate myself for this, but I get out, turn the shower off and get down on my fucking knees to shove my head under the tap.
I scrub at my hair, washing it angrily as I hate myself for not being stronger than these stupid omega urges.
Why do I feel like crying just from washing his fucking cum off my body?
I want to feel sick about it, but I don’t.
Ugh! This is all so fucked up.
After I rinse my hair, I dry it, unable to look at myself in the mirror.
I’m a grumpy asshole as I stomp around the motel room, packing all my belongings. Yes, including the damn cum covered underwear.
I should have just tossed them in the trash, but the idea of the staff here having access to my alpha’s scent has me raging.
Yeah, it’s official, I’ve totally lost the plot.
“Fuck you.” I curse down at the boxers as I shove them in my backpack.
Throwing the door open, I head down to reception where the same creepy guy is, watching something on his phone.
“You!” I seeth.
His head snaps up, eyes wide. “I didn’t do anything!” He drops his phone as he raises his hands above his head.
“Did you give someone a key to my room?” I glare at the little fucker.
“No,” he says quickly.
“Don’t fucking lie to me.” I slam my hand down on the desk.
“He had a gun. He said he would shoot my dick off if I didn’t give him a key.”
Of course he did. Fucking hell.
“What did he look like?” I demand.
“T-tall. Curly dark hair. Lots of tattoos.”
Tatum. It was fucking Tatum who was in my room. Who smells of pumpkin marshmallows...
I should have known he would be depraved enough to break into my hotel room and wank off into my boxers.
I must be just as fucking bad, because knowing just how fucked up he is has my cock twitching. I need help. Big time.
“Tell me right now why I shouldn’t put a bullet through your fucking head.” I growl, pulling my gun out of the bag and pointing it at his head.
He whimpers and the smell of piss fills the air.
My nose wrinkles and I scoff. “Fucking pathetic.” I shake my head. “I’ll let my father deal with you.”
“F-father?”
Normally, I don’t throw my family name around, but right now I’m too pissed off to care. “Eddy Kennedy.”
His face pales. “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.”
“You will be,” I snap before shoving the door to the lobby open and heading for my car.
I don’t plan on telling my father, so he has nothing to worry about. The fear alone should have him second guessing before he decides to abuse his position again.
It might be a seedy motel, but people deserve a safe place to go.
The drive back to the mansion is rough. My whole car now smells like Tatum, and I debate opening the window to air it out, or hotbox myself in his scent.
The fucked up part of me picks being drowned in his scent. Of course.
Grabbing my bag, I head inside. It’s not until I’m heading for the stairs that I’m really aware of my surroundings.
It was stupid of me and I pay the price because I almost crash into Ralph.
“Where the hell have you been?” He growls in demand. His eyes take me in and his lip pulls back. “You smell like a whore house, Beckham. Is that where you’ve been this whole time? Locked up with a pack of alphas, being their dirty little whore?”
“It’s none of your fucking business,” I snap back. “So kindly go fuck yourself.”
I’m not the same teenage boy I was before. I’m bigger, stronger, I shouldn’t be afraid of this man. I could take him if I had to.
It’s the fear of him using his alpha bark that has me always tiptoeing around him.
Yet, somehow, right now, I don’t have it in me to care. Maybe that's stupid of me.
I can tell he wants to say something, maybe even do something, but as the sounds around me filter in, I realize this place is packed.
People in white and black uniforms are rushing around. The party. Right.
A satisfied little smirk slips onto my lips as I push past the asshole, careful not to touch him and head for my room.
It’s only when I’m behind my closed door that I let myself breathe. Something about breathing in his foul scent feels like a betrayal.
Tossing my bag to the ground, I head for my closet to pick out a suit.
Once I’m dressed, my father comes to find me and I spend the rest of the day at his side, humoring him by letting him fill me in on everyone and everything.
By the time people start to arrive, I’m already done with the day and ready to go upstairs to sleep.
Thankfully, my father doesn’t force me to stand here and greet all the guests, so I slip into our ballroom where the party is being held and head for the tables of food.
If I’m going to be forced to be here, I may as well enjoy the food.
As I’m stuffing my face full of sausage rolls, something has me looking towards the door.
In walks three people I’ve been trying to avoid for the past week.
And around a mouthful of food, I curse. “Fucking hell!”
Yup. Should have gone upstairs to bed.