4. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Beckett
I can't wait until the Selection.
The spikes are too much. I've tried to work myself through them. I've tried all of the toys and tools in my collection. My skin is still on fire and crawling off of my body, and the urge to nest is almost overwhelming. I need an Alpha. Today. Before another spike has me crying and writhing on the floor. It's an extremely good thing that I can send a quick little text and within fifteen minutes, a collection of scent cards based on my preferences that they have on file will be delivered right to my door.
Thirteen minutes later, a large envelope slides under the door. There are four individually sealed plastic packets inside, each with a different scent card. They aren't labeled. I understand the reason they aren't, but sometimes I think a name would help me make the decision; which is likely one of the reasons they aren't labeled. An Alpha could have the most appealing scent in the world, but if his name is Herbert or Wilfred, I might not be very inclined to choose him. I also changed my preferences to not include the gender on the cards. I've learned a lot about myself since being here and one of those things is that I don't have a gender preference.
I've also noticed that there are far more male Alphas registered with the heat service than there are female Alphas. I went through the female Alpha roster within less than a year. My only experience had been limited to the three female Alphas I knew locally so I wanted to stay with what I was comfortable with. Once I realized I was making my way down the female list for the second time, I decided to try a male Alpha. Completely different experience in more ways than the obvious.
Male Alphas tend to be louder than females, and much larger. I'd say they're more aggressive, but I've been with female Alphas who are every bit as aggressive as males. It all comes down to personality. My first experience with a male Alpha opened my eyes to needs I never knew I had. I started choosing males as regularly as females, and after a while I just changed my gender preference to none on the paperwork. Every now and then I'll have a need for one or the other, but for the most part I'm happy as long as the scent is right.
The first scent card is flowery, heavy on the lavender notes. That has appealed to me in the past, many times, but not now. I close the packet and put it to the side then take out the next one.
Pine. No. Not in the mood for pine.
The next packet is cherry with hints of floral. Not quite a cherry blossom, but not like cherry pie, either. That's nice. Warm and sweetly spicy. A definite maybe.
I open the next one and a strong, smoky scent flows around me. I can't place the exact notes, but I know this is the sort of scent that clings. It's aggressive. In the past, I've always leaned away from aggressive scents like this one. I didn't want anything to linger. I wanted the Alpha and all traces of that Alpha to be gone as soon as my spike was relieved or my heat lifted.
There will be lots of different Alphas at the Selection, with a multitude of different scents. It's inevitable that I will have a heat spike during the ball, ideally the proximity to all those Alphas will push me right into heat. I won't be in a position to calmly pick through scents, avoiding the ones that are foreign or the overly aggressive ones. I'll crawl to the Alpha with the strongest scent that doesn't make me gag and that will be that.
I hold the card under my nose and draw in the scent.
I've never chosen an Alpha with this sort of scent, I just know that the smokiness appeals to me. It always has. I'm not sure why, but it does. I pick up the other card, the cherry one. If I could combine those two scents, I think it would be perfection.
But I can't choose two Alphas. Not for a spike. I can't. It would be ridiculous.
Wouldn’t it?
Lots of Omegas want two Alphas during their heats. Lots of Omegas need a whole pack. I could be one of them. I've never had that before. And I am leaving CCOE and its heat service soon. Now might be my only chance to try. I stack the cards together and press my nose against them, deeply drawing in the scent.
Perfection.
It will be fine. I'm putting in my order.
I send the text with the numbers printed on the scent cards and wait for the confirmation. The operator, or organizer, will contact the Alphas and make sure they're on board with helping me through it together, and then I'll get a text with a new number to send a message to when I either go into heat or have another unbearable spike. That number will direct my message to both Alphas and all I'll have to do at that point is wait by the door.
I'm excited.
I think I'm excited.
I might be anxious.
Either way, I'll be taken care of until the Selection.
Several agonizing minutes after I send the numbers, I finally get the confirmation text. My stomach tightens with anticipation as I read the words on my phone. I've never been one to call an Alpha for an unnecessary fuck, but the temptation is there for the new experience. I can wait. It isn't like I won't be having another heat spike in the next day or so. I can wait.
The next spike wakes me up in the middle of the night. I was having the most delicious dream about cuddling in my nest with my faceless Alpha when it turned into a nightmare of sweat and burning. I blindly reach for my phone on the nightstand, cursing when I knock it onto the floor. It takes all my concentration to slide onto the carpet instead of rolling off the bed and dropping into a clumsy heap beside my bed. The phone has somehow made it almost to the center of the room and I crawl toward it on my knees with one hand while I clutch my stomach with the other.
That's the thing about the fully developed and mature Omega reproductive system. Young Omegas who are only just beginning to have heats often have irregular, violent heats with the occasional gentle heat that fools them into believing that it's not going to be so bad for the rest of their lives. Once our bodies mature, we trade those irregular heats for consistent and intense heats. If we have violent heats as we're growing into ourselves, then our heats will probably always be violent. If an Omega is lucky enough to have slow-moving gentle heats, then that's what they’ll usually be blessed with for the rest of their lives.
I was not so blessed.
Even my spikes are torture.
I roll onto my back the moment my fingers make contact with my phone. It takes me a few fumbled attempts, but I send a short message to the number in the confirmation text.
I'm spiking hard. Thank you for coming.
I need to get to the door. I'll have to unlock it. By the time I get to it, I'm drenched in sweat and slick. They're going to have to peel my boxers off of me. The phone chirps with a message just as I twist the latch and I groan. I don't want conversation. I don't need digital flirting to get me in the mood right now.
Need the address, sweetheart.
I respond with my address, my fingers trembling so hard I nearly drop the phone. The sudden urge to gather nesting materials hits me hard and I start dragging myself toward the closet. I keep a basket of my preferred materials there. I don't like crawling around in misery to find things that feel right. Being proactive and prepared has saved me miles and hours of agony.
The phone chirps again before I can start moving across the floor.
OTW , from a different number than the first text.
I just know the short, clipped reply is from the Alpha with the aggressive scent. That's telling. I'm not sure if I should be apprehensive or excited. It doesn't matter what I am. They've been vetted and they'll take care of me tonight.
Minutes drag on into what feels like years while I grip my aching and dripping cock through the soaked fabric of my boxers and beg for time to move faster. With all of the technological advances we have, how is it possible that no one has come up with a way to teleport? Footsteps sound in the hall and I can't help the whimper that escapes my lips. They're here.
I wait, my eyes trained on the doorknob, willing it to turn.
It doesn't. There is pacing outside my door, but my doorknob remains untouched.
What are they doing?
I'm going to die before they decide to come in.
A second set of footsteps approach and I listen to a short muffled conversation, then the doorknob slowly twists and my door is pushed open.
The first Alpha is male. The one with the cherry scent. He's not traditionally handsome, but he isn't unattractive. He's tall and bulky, his middle showing a deeper fondness for good food instead of the gym. He smiles down at me as he steps inside and moves to the side to let the other Alpha in.
The second Alpha's scent nearly overpowers the first as he turns to lock the door behind him. He's the same height as the first Alpha, but he's more muscular than bulky. He also doesn't smile at me.
“You smell delicious,” the first Alpha purrs. Slick pours from me and he smirks. “Absolutely delicious. How long before you go into heat?”
“Two weeks,” I answer through gritted teeth.
“I'll cancel my plans,” he hums. Every word he speaks makes me harder, wetter.
“Come here, Omega.” The second Alpha orders.
I shake my head. “Wait.”
“For what?” He laughs.
“Names,” I whisper.
They exchange a glance, but the second Alpha responds. “Kyle. Not that it matters.”
“Josh,” the first answers.
The look they exchanged and the way they said their names makes it hard to believe them, but Kyle is right. Their names don't matter. The only thing that matters is their ability to help me.
Kyle doesn't ask me for my name and he doesn't order me to come to him again. He simply bends down and picks me up over his shoulder and carries me to the bed.
In the past, even in the throes of a spike, the Alphas who serviced me were at least attentive. Most were even affectionate. Kyle is neither; and because he isn't inclined to give that sort of attention, Josh isn't.
There are no kisses.
There are no warm or soft touches.
Josh smiles at me once before Kyle pushes my shoulders to the mattress. If I've ever been treated like this before, it was in the middle of a heat and I don't remember it. And as degrading as it is, my body weeps for it.
I make the most desperate noises for them while their fingers leave dark marks on my skin. I arch my back, breathlessly and wordlessly begging them to go harder, go faster, give me more. Slick trails down my thighs and puddles on the sheets as I spread myself open for them.
And then it's finished.
I don't know how many hours they fuck me, but the sun is up and my body is no longer aching with need, but with borderline pain. Both Alphas are still in my bed. My bed. The spike is over. They need to go. I don't know if I'll call them back. I'm not hurt, but that was more intense than I anticipated. Kyle's treatment of me was as aggressive and dominant as his scent; and Josh was happy to mirror Kyle's actions. There are fingertip shaped bruises scattered across my hips, thighs, and upper arms. I've never carried bruises after a fuck before. I was going to have a shower before I bade them farewell, but now I think I'd rather just get them out of here.
I pull a pair of flannel sleep pants out of my dresser and put them on before I go to the side of the bed to nudge Josh's shoulder. “Hey.”
He opens his eyes and grins. “Ready for another round?”
I smile awkwardly and rub at a scratch on my chest. “Actually, I think...” I trail off as Kyle stands up and rounds the corner of the bed.
“We've already cleared our calendars, Omega. We'll take good care of you until you go into heat.” Then he shoves me to my knees and nods at Josh.
Josh gets on his knees behind me. The sticky warmth of his skin and scent are no longer appealing. He fists the hair on the back of my head and jerks my head back so that I'm staring up at Kyle. “Good boy. Now open that pretty mouth.”