In The Tent
Knox
I’m in hell.
Instinct is beating hard at my chest, urging me to stake my claim on this omega’s fragile, tempting body. In fact, it takes everything in me not to part her pretty thighs, and bury myself until her body goes limp with pleasure…but she’s so obviously drugged out of her mind.
While I’ve had a few lovers in the past who’d had maybe one too many drinks, I’ve never fucked someone so out of it. It feels…wrong? Maybe that’s not the right word, but this doesn’t sit right with me…even if rutting an omega is the best way to pull the poor creatures out of distress.
And Skyla is definitely distressed.
Her scent is floral and intoxicating, but it’s also filled with a sharp, chemical edge. And the bitter sting from the drugs pumping through her veins is only amplified by her fear. It coils in the back of my throat, souring my lust with something like guilt.
I think I’d feel better if she said something. Anything.
But she’s sitting there, wide-eyed and soft-limbed, with her perky tits pointed right at me. She has dark nipples and plush thighs that look so soft. Her waist is trim, but her hips have the kind of curve to them that makes a man want to hold on for dear life while he loses his mind.
Fuck, I want so badly to dig my fingers into her plush flesh and suck her little tits into my mouth.
But I can’t get past the look on her face.
It’s like someone turned the dial down on her senses. Her pupils are blown and her lips are slightly parted, like she’s about to say something, but nothing comes out.
“Skyla?” I whisper her name. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Um…yeah.” Her voice is soft. Very feminine. “Are you…” She blinks, but it’s delayed, like her brain is lagging a few seconds behind her body.
This girl is so fucking doped up.
Conflicted as all hell, I shift a little closer to the entrance to the tent, dragging a hand through my hair. Her eyes follow me, slow and glassy. There’s something hollow behind them, telling me she’s here but not really.
It’s unnerving.
“I..uh…” She scoots a little closer. Only a few inches. But as she moves, her bare thighs part enough to give me a glimpse of the soft curve of her pussy. She’s wet, her body already reacting to my simple presence.
Fuck me.
This is it. This is what hell would be like—a pretty and primed omega, too out of it to actually enjoy.
“I’m sure you’re tired,” I say despite the rush of desire pounding at the back of my skull. “Would you like to lie down?”
I know it’s stupid—any other alpha would be buried ten inches deep right now—but this is my future mate. I feel like I should take things slow.
Right?
“Dakota worked hard on this for you.” I gesture to the pallet of blankets beneath her. “He wanted you to be comfortable.”
She looks down, fisting the pale green comforter at her sides. Her chest rises, those soft tits lifting, her nipples so fucking hard.
Goddamnit.
I want to fuck her raw.
Trying like hell to maintain control, I curl my fists tight, but my cock continues to thrum, too sensitive and already leaking inside my jeans.
“Alpha?” Skyla’s mouth hangs open like she’s struggling to get her words out. “Are you going to take me now?” Her words are slightly slurred as she looks right at me with that blank stare.
“Skyla…” I pull in a breath through my mouth, trying to keep from sucking in too many of her dull pheromones. “You should lie down.” I swallow hard, and the base of my cock pulses. “Just lie down and sleep, okay?”
She tilts her head like she’s trying to understand me through static.
Then she nods once, slow and uncertain, before laying down on her back.
Her chest rises once, her little tits pointed up at the tented ceiling, then she slowly parts her legs like she wants me to crawl between them, giving me the perfect view of her wet pussy.
Do it. Claim her.
“Alpha?” Skyla lifts her head when I don’t move. Her glassy eyes meet mine, and she frowns. “Are you coming?” she mumbles.
I open my mouth to command her to go to sleep, but nothing comes out. My self-control hangs on by a thread as I take in the sight of her, burning every inch into my memory.
Then she lifts one hand.
She slowly trails her fingertips between her breasts and down her stomach. Her fingers dance over the hollow next to one hip bone, then down to her mound, before slipping them over her slit. A string of sticky slick stretches as she plays in her mess.
My mouth waters and I lean in.
“Skyla,” I growl her name.
She makes a needy sound, lifting her hips, beckoning me closer.
This is wrong.
“Spread yourself open,” I say, needing to see more. “Show me how pink you are.”
Using two fingers, she does as she’s told, parting those puffy lips. Her pussy is a deep red-ish pink, her clit is engorged, and her little asshole puckers out.
Leave now. Don’t fucking do this.
“Lower.” I roll forward onto my hands and knees. “Finger yourself.”
Skyla’s eyes float closed as she dips one fingertip inside her entrance. Then two, making the thin skin stretch. Pink. Wet. Soft.
All thought falls from my head as my body lurches forward, and I’m suddenly face down between her legs.
Skyla lets out a frightened yip, jerking her hand back, but I don’t give a shit if she’s scared. My primal need is all that matters anymore.
Claim.
Fuck.
Bite.
I open my mouth wide, then give her one long swipe of my tongue. Her sweet and salty musk blooms, making me growl deep in my chest. She shivers as I lap her up, gathering every drop of slick I can find. Savoring every inch from ass to clit.
But then, Skyla’s hips shift, and her hips roll like she’s trying to wiggle away. Rage burns through me, and I grip her thighs, holding her to me.
“Mine!” I growl, and she goes still.
I don’t want to scare her, but I’ll fucking die if I don’t taste her right now.
“Don’t fucking move,” I push at her inner thighs, forcing her legs impossibly wide, then I slip two fingers deep inside her.
Skyla bucks up, I’m assuming from surprise, but I don’t look at her face. I’m too busy licking, sucking, and flicking her clit while fingering her deep.
Soon my precious omega’s thighs begin to tighten, squeezing my face. I glance up her body, watching as her eyes float closed. Her breath picks up, her face squinches, and her orgasm explodes on my tongue.
Slick erupts as her body shakes. I drink her down, and my cock pulses. The ache in my balls is unbearable, making my lower back tense.
The need to rut is like nothing I’ve felt before.
“Um…” Skyla pushes at the top of my head, trying to pry me off her cunt. “I’m,” she licks her suddenly pale lips. In fact, her whole face is drained of all color, like she’s seen a ghost. “I'm really tired,” she manages to say, but I barely register her words.
Rut. Fuck. Bite. Claim.
“Roll over,” I say as I lift up, then reach for my belt.
Skyla's brown eyes widen as they drop to my hands. “Don’t—” she whispers, shaking her head. But it’s already too late.
I’m standing at the center of a storm—wild, desperate, and past the point of no return.
There’s nothing human left in me now. I’m a beast, stripping down as I prepare to fall into my omega. My mate. Mine.
I kick off my jeans, then palm my cock, tugging my balls slightly to relieve some of the ache. It does nothing. In fact, the tension in my body only doubles when Skyla pushes her feet out, trying to scoot away from me.
A frightened whimper leaves her lips as she stares right at my ruddy cock.
My hand finds her hip, and suddenly, I’m not thinking—I’m moving. Crawling over her with slow, deliberate movements. Skyla stiffens beneath me, small and trembling, her hands curled under her chin like she's bracing for a storm.
Her wide eyes lock on mine—clearly scared and unsure.
I can’t stop, and I don’t want to. My body’s already decided.
“It’s okay,” I growl, more animal than man. “Let your alpha make it better.”