7. Delirium
Chapter 7
Delirium
G etting home had been somewhat petrifying. Brinley severely disliked using rideshares or cabs, but the idea of walking or taking any kind of mass-transit system while her cramps continued to build was out of the question. Miami wasn’t known for being full of alpha-types, but it was too populated to be devoid of them. She needed to minimize her exposure, and therefore her risk. So she’d opted for a taxi, paid cash despite that the choice emptied her wallet, and had it drop her a block from her apartment. As a precaution. Being the middle of a weekday, her neighborhood wasn’t as bustling as the downtown-adjacent areas.
Of course, the entire dilemma surrounding how to get back to her hole-in-the-wall apartment only worked against her fragile emotional state. She wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and sob. Preferably into a pile of soft, fluffy, unscented things. Or something with just the faintest whiff of old leather.
Brinley released a sound that started off as a grunt and ended in a gasp as another wave of cramps rolled through her. Her hands flew up to her abdomen and she stumbled forward. She did not need to be thinking about Lennox Mitchell at a time like this.
In an attempt to distract her mind, and because she could still smell the unpleasant traces of someone else’s body odor, Brinley chose to strip everything off right there in what passed for her entryway. She even shimmied out of her bra and panties for good measure. Then she stepped wide over the pile, went into her small kitchen, and dug through the cupboard she used as a faux-pantry until she found what she wanted. She set the box of large garbage bags aside, pulled on a pair of heavy-duty cleaning gloves, and clumsily extracted one bag. It was much more difficult to manage with the gloves, but she succeeded. It was much easier after that to stuff the pile of stinky fabric into the bag and cinch it tightly closed. She briefly debated setting the whole thing aflame and tossing it out a window, but that tactic would ultimately get her in trouble and further ruin her shit-tastic day. So she shoved the bag into the bottom of her rolling laundry basket, set the entire thing up against the wall near the door, and spritzed the air with her preferred odor-neutralizing spray.
Once that chore was accomplished, Brinley went straight for her shower.
The steamy water helped a little, though probably more for her emotional state than for her physical one. Her skin finally stopped itching, but the cramps continued to come in waves and she was starting to feel the tell-tale slick dripping between her thighs. This heat had come on almost unnaturally fast, in addition to being two whole freaking months premature.
Brinley wrapped herself in towels and immediately had to fight the urge to rip them all away again. She hadn’t had the time—or honestly the foresight—to dig out the nicer, softer, more luxurious set that she’d splurged on and reserved specifically for her heats. Ordinarily her usual set were fine, but when her body was in this sort of state, they felt too coarse. Too rough. She hated them.
Just endure them for a minute.
She repeated the words to herself and practically sprinted into her bedroom. Nothing was prepared, of course. There hadn’t been any signs of an oncoming heat even that morning.
She rushed through throwing on something soft and loose, if only to get the towels away from her body, before setting about the daunting but entirely necessary task of turning her normal bed into a proper nest. Or moving a nest onto the floor. She’d done both over the years. Sometimes she knew what she wanted, but this was not one of those times. The suddenness of this heat didn’t just have her physically miserable, it had her restless and unsettled.
All the bedding came off in quick succession. The sheet she hadn’t slept on the night before was tossed aside, smelling wrong. Except everything smelled wrong. Even her favorite blanket, while still soft to the touch, made her nose crinkle.
Brinley dropped it all to the floor in an aggravated huff. This is stupid. I’m stupid.
Her body had betrayed her at the worst possible time, and because her boss had decided to set jarringly unrealistic standards without warning he’d been severely unreceptive to her pleas for a few sick days. Never mind that she actually never took sick time. It hadn’t mattered. He’d refused, but her heat hadn’t left her thinking straight, let alone with options, and their second confrontation of the day had resulted in her losing her job altogether.
Her belly cramped painfully and Brinley stumbled, bending forward and letting out a long groan of pain. She couldn’t even let herself sit and dwell on her bad luck, or worry about how she might afford rent if she failed to quickly find a new source of employment, because her suppressants had failed her entirely and her body was launching a coup. Life was much easier when she had fewer, more predictable, and frankly less severe heat cycles.
Nest. Need a nest. She just wanted to curl into a pile of soft things until the pain and rapidly building, aching emptiness in her core went away. Already her body burned for something she couldn’t give it. Stupid omega biology. She forced herself to focus, to look around, and frowned again.
She didn’t have what she needed for her nest to be perfect.
Maybe perfect nests were a fantasy.
Something had to be better than nothing, though, so she forced herself to pull out a fresh sheet and start again. She opted for the bed—more comfortable than the floor—and quickly made the decision to bring in all her assorted spare and decorative pillows to tuck around the perimeter, protecting herself from the harsh surface of the wall. Blankets were layered, pulled away, and layered again until she finally added her softest and most comfortable one to the top. Then she positioned the pillow barricade, plumping and adjusting repeatedly as she went, and eventually she was able to drop into the center of the more built-up space and let out a breath.
She was done. It wasn’t her best work. It wasn’t her favorite nest she’d ever built. But it wasn’t terrible. The things she could touch most easily were pleasant beneath her fingers and nothing around her held any offensive odors. Sometimes, a girl had to accept that the bare minimum was all she could get.
Brinley rolled over on her side and curled into a ball as yet more cramps attacked her belly, triggering a renewed, pulsing ache deeper inside. Her recently washed thighs were half-coated in slick already and more continued to leak out of her.
She really envied human women and their monthly bleeds. Their ability to ease the misery with medicine and external heat.
Tears spilled from her eyes and Brinley buried her face into the soft blanket beneath her. It offered no relief, only another layer of frustration. Wrong. It was wrong. Her body was wrong. Everything was wrong. But she was in no shape to fix it, even if she knew how.
She froze, going so completely still she even forgot to breathe, when someone began pounding on her door.
No one should have been looking for her. It wasn’t as if she had any close friends or relatives, let alone any she’d reached out to after her firing who might have reason to know she was home. She sure as hell didn’t want to open her door to any ex-colleagues.
The knocking resumed, no less insistent or intimidating. This time, a deep and familiar male voice carried with it. “Open the door, omega. I know you’re there.”
Brinley finally dragged in a breath, but couldn’t quite bring herself to move yet. No way… There was no way that was Lennox at her door, calling for her. She’d never told him her name or shown him her face. But her insides gave a sharp tug as he resumed his knocking, and before she realized she was moving, Brinley was on her feet.
She was fully dressed in a shirt and shorts pajama set, and yet still, she felt entirely too vulnerable when she cracked open her door. So she attempted to hide most of her body behind it and only tilt her head around in order to peek out.
Liquid excitement gushed from her as heat flashed through her body the moment she laid eyes on him. On the alpha she’d met at the masquerade party, the alpha whose knot she’d taken only the night before, standing just beyond her step. If she weren’t on the verge of passing out from a strange and concerning combination of agony and half-euphoric need, she would have been highly embarrassed.
Lennox Mitchell raked his familiar hazel eyes over whatever part of her he could see and a low rumble wafted from him. “You said two months.”
Brinley licked her lips, her entire being perking up at the sound of his voice. She wanted to whimper at the tease of his far too welcome scent tickling her nose. “This was … unexpected.”
He locked his eyes onto hers. “Let me in.”
She shifted her weight to do exactly that before her brain kicked in and she managed to lock her fingers in place around the edge of the door. “If I … it’s not—” She had no freaking clue how to articulate herself and not sound like a lunatic.
Lennox lifted what looked like a large travel bag, which she hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. “Brinley, I can help. And I brought supplies. Let me in.”
He brought supplies? Her brain repeated his words and promptly screeched to a halt. “You know my name?” She blinked up at him, her confusion helping the slightest bit to ease the layered aches.
His expression softened. “You have your resources. I have mine.” He leaned forward, resting his free hand on the outer edge of the doorframe, and lowered his voice. “You went into heat in fucking public. You’re lucky I’m the only alpha who’s shown up at your door. Now, I’ll ask again, let me in so I can take care of you, omega.”
A whine escaped her before she could catch it. She wanted what he was offering. She truly did. And she needed his scent in her nest.
Brinley stumbled back, her knees weak, and let the door swing open.
Lennox moved swiftly forward, caught and relocked the door, then pulled her up against him with both hands splayed over her sides. He dipped his head and trailed the side of her face with his nose. “I can smell your need,” he said on a groan. “You smell fucking divine.”
Brinley clenched at his shirt and angled her head to press her face into the groove of his throat. She writhed a little against him as his scent triggered another rush of desire. “Alpha … please…”
“Please what?” He murmured his question into her skin, his lips teasing her cheek and ear.
She drew a breath, trying not to be a whimpering, wanton cliché … and failed miserably. All she managed was to tilt her head back to catch his intense stare before she said, “I need you … your scent, your knot.”
Lennox grunted and lifted one hand enough to catch her jaw, cupping her face. He held her that way as he took her lips in a slow, deep kiss that had her clawing at him. When he eased back, he said, “Show me your nest, baby.”
Slick seeped from her at the velvety tone of his voice. This was what she wanted, what she needed. He was what she needed.
Some small voice in the back of her head whispered that she should have questions, that what she needed was to stop and think, but Brinley flipped that voice to mute. Asking questions—thinking in general—was not going to alleviate the rampaging pain in her belly. A willing alpha in her nest, however, was precisely the solution.
Brinley led the way on unsteady legs through her apartment until they stood side-by-side in her bedroom. She curled her arms around her middle, bracing against another onslaught of cramps. “Here—” Her voice choked off briefly from the seizing pain. “Here it is.”
Lennox rumbled, the sound thoughtful. “We’ll have to snuggle.”
She blinked, first at the mountain of plumped-up blankets half-framed by an uneven wall of mismatched pillows, then up at the tall, broad-shouldered alpha next to her. Then back. He was right. She’d made do with what resources and lack of preparation she could, and the result had turned her queen-sized mattress into something a bit smaller. Cozier, or tighter, depending on perspective.
But she wanted to snuggle with him. With his engorged knot swollen inside her, preferably.
Lennox slipped his hands beneath the fluttery hem of her pajama shirt, suddenly behind her, and spread his palms over her belly. His breath warmed her skin as he murmured into her ear, “How about I start helping you feel a little better?”
Her head dropped back as she instinctively bared her neck for him. “Y-yes, please. Keep touching me.” His hands felt so much better than her clothes.
His chest vibrated and he dragged his tongue down the length of her throat before settling over her scent glands and sucking. At the same time, he raised his hands up, until he’d taken deliberate hold of her breasts.
Brinley arched against him, moaning shamelessly.
Lennox worked hickeys into her skin as he teased and pinched her nipples into painfully hard, aching peaks. Then he swept one hand down again, this time diving beneath the waistband of her shorts, where he gripped her pussy. A low, sexy-as-hell groan rolled through him before his teeth caught her earlobe. “Before I completely ruin this pussy, I want you to sit on my face.” He slipped two fingers inside her as he spoke. “I want you to ride my face until you fucking scream my name—convince me you know damn well whose cock you’re about to be taking.” He moved his mouth up to her temple and ground the heel of his hand over her clit. “Do that, and I’ll give you my knot as many times as you can take it.”
Her body shook with a need so powerful even the cramping faded from her awareness. She could barely breathe just imagining what he described, but she wanted it.
Brinley managed to nod her understanding and only whined a little when he withdrew his hand. She watched him lick his fingers as if in slow motion, saw his brow arch, and nearly missed his command to strip. It only processed as he, too, began shedding clothes.
She was done first, of course, and nearly crawled up into her nest before she remembered he needed to go in before her. So she waited impatiently for the last his attire to drop to the ground and debated for a few seconds about whether or not it would be too insane to try folding men’s slacks and men’s dress shirts into her bedding.
Then the man himself obscured her vision, tipped her chin up, and said, “Remember, Brinley. I may be your alpha, but I want to hear my name out of those sweet lips when you come.” He kissed her before she could respond, the kiss wet and bruising but short, then turned to let himself onto her bed-turned-nest.
He looked so out of place.
He made it perfect.
Brinley licked her lips and shifted impatiently on her feet, every instinct inside her screaming to follow.
Lennox shifted around only briefly, obviously making some effort not to unnecessarily disturb her arrangement, and laid himself down. Thanks to her blanket-shaping, it was impossible to stretch out and to lay flat—as had been her goal when she’d only been wanting to curl into a ball. But he didn’t complain. He didn’t even scowl. “All right,” he said, patting his chest. “Come sit on my face and let me feast on you.”
She leapt onto the mattress as gracefully as she was capable, propelled more by eagerness than conscious thought. Her gaze strayed to the straining erection that stood as if waiting for her and she remembered, quite happily, the last time she’d ridden him. She really, really wanted to impale herself on that again.
But a deal was a deal. She was not going to risk upsetting her alpha out the door so close to salvation.
As her knees settled just above his shoulders, she saw a smirk lift his lips and something like victory shine in his eyes. His hands smoothed up her thighs. “I’m impressed you resisted.” He pulled her up until she could barely see any of his face. She could feel his breath on her slick-coated thighs. “Let me reward you for your good behavior, omega.”
The soft whimper in her chest turned into a keening, needy whine as he tugged her straight down onto the lower half of his face and opened his mouth again. She felt the scrape of his shadow of a beard, the sweep of his tongue, the press of his lips, even the suction when he zeroed in briefly over her clit. She could feel everything. His hands slid back and sank into her ass, holding her where he wanted her as he went to work.
Brinley had nothing to grab hold of and ended up bracing awkwardly against the wall above her pillows. She didn’t even care. She’d thought he had skill the last time he’d been between her legs, but it turned out he’d been holding back.
He alternated between stroking his tongue the length of her and shamelessly tongue-fucking her, his lips moving as necessary to improve his angle. And with every shift of his angle, there was another delightful scratch of mildly coarse facial hair adding just the slightest bite to the experience. By the time he finally put all of his attention onto her clit, she was half-sure she would be drowning the man in slick.
Instead, he took her aching little nub into his mouth and worshipped it unreservedly.
Her body convulsed. Her back arched again, forcing her half upright, and she dropped a hand into his hair as if she needed to hold him in place. His name tore from her throat on a breathless cry as the orgasm burst.
Finally, his grip eased.
Brinley collapsed into the wall of pillows in an effort not to further drown him. He was her favorite male of any species, officially. She would really hate to do that to him.
Lennox pushed up to his elbows and smirked over at her, seeming not to care that more than half his face was a vulgar mess and his hair bore the tell-tale signs of fucking. He licked his lips. “What are you doing over there, Brinley? I believe I have a promise to keep.”
She was still trying to catch her breath, yet a pulsing pang of desire answered him as if he hadn’t just sent her into orbit. Of course, she mewled and crawled back to him, using the confined space as an excuse to stay bent over for a moment longer.
Lennox adjusted up to his side and tugged her into the center of the nest, bringing them chest-to-chest. He bent his head and murmured, “I’ll take the pain away, baby.” He kissed her lips, this time slow and building, and rolled with her until she was beneath him. The kiss broke as slowly as it had built and he reached down, pulling her legs wide.
Anticipation coursed through her and Brinley curled her fingers into the soft blanket at her back. Her breath wobbled as Lennox rubbed his thick length along her pussy, coating it in her essence. Then, without preamble, he notched it at her entrance and pushed inside. Her body welcomed him without resistance.
Brinley moaned, long and low, at the feeling of taking a real cock in the throes of her heat. At the feeling of having him inside her again.
Lennox cursed under his breath and his hands moved to her hips. He rocked against her, withdrew, and snapped forward again.
Their movements became a blur in her mind after that. His hands on her skin, burning and reaching. His skin on her skin, all tight muscles slick with sweat. His lips on her skin, equal parts warm and soft and wet and bruising. He denied them both his knot for a while longer, fucking her into a frenzy, before he finally flipped her onto her knees.
He leaned over her until his breath was hot on her ear, his non-weightbearing hand going to work on her clit, and spoke in a low, husky timbre. “Now be a good girl and take your alpha’s knot.”
Fresh heat flashed through her and she gasped.
Lennox ground his pelvis into hers and popped his swollen knot past her opening. He continued gyrating against her, the burning stretch of his knot mounting faster and hotter than she could even react to. Then he removed his hand from her clit in favor of curving that arm entirely around her middle, as if holding her in place, and sank his teeth into the scent glands at the back of her neck.
Her orgasm exploded. Brinley let out a scream of ecstasy as searing euphoria swept over her and her vision went white.