Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Zeb
She’s sweet and needy. Soft in all the right places. But I get the impression something is holding her back.
The steady diet of instruction manuals and vids I’ve consumed in the limited time available since I was given this mission feels woefully inadequate. What the fuck do I know about omega care?
I trust the off-the-record backroom chats between alphas—and my instincts—more than anything I’ve read or watched.
But I’m out of my depth. No point in pretending otherwise.
I’ve spent my life winging it. When I shift my body form, it also messes with my mindset.
That’s one of the reasons I hate staying in any form too long.
You start to lose yourself. I spent a month as a theta once.
I could feel the arrogance creeping in, burrowing under my skin. I still shudder when I think about it.
I’m not an alpha.
Definitely not her alpha.
But I can fake it because that’s what she needs.
It’s pretty fucking heady hearing her give her investment, getting her mentally to the place where she’s ready to admit it.
Addictive. There was a moment of resistance—almost defiance.
Omegas always seem sweet, but this one? Esme has got a little fire under the sweetness. Maybe I never knew omegas at all.
The bonded ones are different, though. They’ve got this same spark.
What the fuck am I doing? Thinking there’s a spark between us? None of this is me. I’m wearing someone else’s skin. I’m not an alpha. She’s never going to be for me. The real me could never be enough.
I’m in a punishing mood so I stuff two fingers into her pussy. I’m not gentle about it. She goes off. Climaxes right there over my hand, sweet mewling sounds of shock and pleasure pouring from her perfect, pouty lips.
I shove deeper, smashing my thumb over her clit. A low earthy groan accompanies her pussy crushing the hell out of my fingers before she rides them with abandon.
Well, that’s quite a show… and off-the-charts hot.
My dick is thudding behind my zipper. It’s all in on this mission and the perks that go with it.
I understood that omegas were exceptionally responsive.
But this is something else. Don’t think I’ve ever been this close to losing it just watching a woman come.
Her climax goes on and on. She’s fucking tight around my fingers.
Fuck, her pussy is going to feel good around my dick.
With her wrists bound at her lower back, and her dress tucked under her arms, her tits are thrust out like an offering, quivering with her panted breaths.
Her pussy drips slick over my knuckles and fatigues.
There’s so much blood trying to pound into my dick, I’m in danger of blacking out.
Finally, her shuddering climax peters out, and her eyes flutter open.
I slide my fingers out of her and stuff them into my mouth, with a low growl that sounds alien even to me. She tastes sweet. Like cotton candy. No pussy should taste that good… Hell, I’m not going to last thirty seconds unless she takes the edge off.
I close my hands around her waist and drop her onto the floor at my feet.
Her dress slips down a little, covering the plump swell of one breast. With a grunt of annoyance, I tuck it up out of the way.
Her eyes are on me, tracking my movements. She doesn’t tell me to stop. But then again, she’s invested now, hasn’t she? And that’s the way this goes. I can do whatever I want to her. She’s indicated that she’s willing.
Does that sit right with me? I don’t fucking know. But her glassy eyes and the faint pant of her breath, the way her nipples are hard points, and the alluring scent of her slick, all tell me that this is what she wants and needs.
“Please untie me.”
Not a fucking chance.
Esme
“No.”
Curt and dismissive.
My little hiss is pure frustration. God help me. His denial of my small request only arouses a fresh gush of slick. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this wild for an alpha before. There’s something about him. Something I can’t quite put my finger on, yet is compelling, nonetheless.
A wave of dizziness overcomes me, the room spinning around me.
His pheromones are pumping out, saturating the air, bathing the surface of my skin.
I’m on my knees, my breasts and pussy on display.
And somehow the way he’s rucked my dress underneath my bound arms is more exposing than if I were naked altogether.
He’s put me here on my knees before him, and I know what he wants.
I can taste it in the air: the pre-cum leaking from his cock that’s still hidden from my view behind his zipper…
although the zipper is certainly being challenged.
I wet my lips. My eyes go from the arresting bulge to his face where I take in his expression: dark and brooding.
He didn’t use his force of will to gain my submission and agreement to invest. But instead, he phrased it as a promise, an anticipation of pleasure, of being knotted.
It’s every omega’s dream, a fantasy we secretly crave.
Something we whisper about in the quietness between missions.
Because knotting only comes with a mate.
But he’s not my mate, is he?
In a moment of startling clarity, I realize he’s going to ruin me for all other alphas. He’s going to be the one I remember when the others fade away. The one, to my shame, I’ll think about when others take me.
I would rescind my investment if such a thing were possible. It’s too late now. And yet with him I sense there are different boundaries. If I told him I wanted to stop, I get the strangest impression that he would.
Alphas don’t do that—ever—now I consider it.
He casually reaches to toy with my right nipple, squeezing and rolling it before letting it go, leaving it throbbing like his fingers are still there. “You want to suck me off, baby?”
“Yes.” A breathy whisper. A plea—I would beg if he wanted me to. I will have this moment, even to my ruination. Tomorrow and any consequences can be damned.
He slides his zipper down, slow and deliberate. I can feel him watching me, but I’m too busy watching what he does. As the zipper reaches the bottom, his thick length stretches the material of his boxer briefs as it pushes through the gap.
Oh, how I hate the way my hands are bound at my back, stopping me from touching him.
“Ah, ah,” he says, almost like he senses what I want to do. He runs his fingertips lightly over the material from the tip to the base of his cock.
My growl is pure frustration.
He chuckles.
My eyes snap to meet his. They’re no longer gray. Maybe it’s a trick of the light, but they seem to blaze.
Then his hips lift, and my eyes go straight back down as he thrusts his underwear and fatigues past his hips and his cock bobs free.
My pussy quakes through a mini spasm as his scent hits me.
His cock is thick and heavily veined. At the base, his knot is already swelling.
I’ve never seen more than a faint ridge before, so its prominence comes as a shock.
I thought it was nothing more than dirty talk—he wouldn’t be the first alpha to allude to knotting without delivering on that promise.
I’m ruined… utterly.
And I haven’t even felt it inside me yet.
He runs his thumb all over the sticky tip and smears it down the length. When he reaches the thick swelling of his knot, his fingers press in roughly and he groans.
“Please,” I whisper.
He doesn’t take mercy on me, not yet. He strokes himself. His cock leaks copiously, trickling over his fingers, the sticky noises as he moves setting me on fire. His heady pheromones send pinpricks across my skin that morph into pulses of pleasure, making me tremble where I kneel.
He reaches forward and sinks his fingers into the hair at the back of my neck.
“Open up.”
I groan in helpless submission. Eagerly I comply as he pulls me forward and directs the weeping tip of his cock toward my lips. I hum as my mouth makes contact, and swirl my tongue around the head, sucking all his sticky goodness in.
A deep rumbling sound of satisfaction emanates from his chest. “Baby, you were born to suck cock. I’m not going to last.”
His admission stokes the fires within me. I’m determined to make him lose control, make him spill his seed down my throat as quickly as I can.
Why? Because I want him as crazy for me as I am for him.
But my hands are bound. His fingers are at the back of my neck, tangled in my hair, holding me, directing me, and taking control away.
I get no say in how this goes. All I can do is use my tongue and lips and pray that he brings me deeply enough that I can swallow over him.
I groan when he pushes deeper—like he reads my mind—hitting the back of my throat.
“Like that, baby?”
I hum around him, letting him know that, yes, I do.
The next time he pulls me down, he pushes right into my throat until my lips kiss up against his knot.
The realization turns me wild. I love everything about this, the way his thickness starves me of breath and consumes my every thought. I’m dripping with pleasure.
“I’m going to come,” he says as he directs me off and on, each time going deeper than the time before, until my jaw aches and lips are mashed into the swelling.
There he holds me still, choking on his fat cock.
Denied air. He groans and his dick flexes inside my mouth, and a hot flood gushes down my throat.
I swallow convulsively, choke a little, and swallow more.
He doesn’t let me up, holds me in place until dots sparkle behind my eyes and my pussy begins to flutter.
I’m going to die.
I’m going to come.
The climax wins the battle as my empty pussy spasms over the anticipation of him there, filling me, knotting me. Darkness is coming for me, and I don’t even care.
I rouse with a jolt, my hands are above my head, and I’m spread out on the bed.
We’re both naked. He’s sprawled out in front of me with his head between my legs, eating me out so good.
His big hands are on my breasts, squeezing them, his fingers playing with my nipples, pinching and rolling them.
My hands try to lower and jerk to a halt—the belt still in place, holding me to the head of the bed.
A climax slams straight into me, setting me quaking through savage contractions. My hips lift off the bed. He plants one arm over my abdomen, pinning me still, and goes right back to eating me out, accompanied by soft, rumbly purrs of satisfaction.
It’s too much. I’m too sensitive. “God, please!”
He holds me still and carries on lavishing my clit with lazy, sensual licks that keep me on the cusp.
My next moan feels like it’s ejected from deep in my belly. “I need a moment.”
He doesn’t give me one. But of course not; he’s an alpha. And the hypersensitivity morphs once more into a torturous level of pleasure.
My heart pounds a rapid tattoo inside my chest, while the air is trapped in my lungs. And just before I’m about to pitch over, he lifts his head.
What? “No!”
He crawls over me, his face a mask of determination, lines up, and stuffs me full of his cock.
I climax instantly, throbbing and pulsing, thrashing on the bed. He closes his fist around my throat and pins me still.
“Fuck, Esme. I’ve not even gotten my knot inside you yet.”
I’m coming. It’s pounding through me in pulsing, climactic waves.
And I can feel the stretching, the terrible strain as he bears his knot down upon my entrance, pushing relentlessly until it pops right in, snug, tight, hitting sensitive pleasure centers I didn’t know existed.
Deep waves of pure bliss radiate out of my core.
I’m so impossibly full. Fitted perfectly to him.
Two bodies, boundless, beating together.
I blink into his beautiful, savage, blazing eyes as he roars his pleasure and pumps me full of his cum.
“Ah, fuck,” he mutters gruffly. “I could get used to this.”
The words strike a discordant note, but I’m too lost in sensation to work out why.
I gasp. Another climax tears through me as if the other one has let me go. A sob bubbles up. My body is nothing but a writhing mass of unsustainable pleasure.
He palms my throat and kisses me deeply, his tongue sweeping inside, tasting me.
It’s the first time he’s kissed my mouth, and the sense of intimacy is profound. I can’t take any more. Yet I can’t stop this either. My stomach aches from clenching. Sweat bathes my body. A carnal storm is chewing me up, tossing me about, and I don’t know which way is up or down.
His lips move to my throat. His teeth nip. I want him to bite harder, to mark and even though I’m not in heat it wouldn’t do a damn thing.
My wrists jerk against the restraints.
“Hush.” His hand encloses my trapped wrists, and that centers me even as it sparks a fresh wave of pleasure.
My thighs squeeze around his waist as my pussy tumbles once more into a savage climax that pushes a cry from my lips. “When does it stop?” I gasp.
His chuckle, low and husky, is breathed against the side of my throat. “How the fuck would I know? It’s never happened to me before.”
I don’t have time to process that little bomb before another climax tears from me, my overstimulated body reaches a tipping point, and my mind shuts down again.
When I come to, he’s on his back. My wrists have been released, and I’m sprawled over the top of him. Something huge is plugging me inside, and the awareness of fullness kicks off another spasm in my womb. My thighs squeeze around his thick body, and my pussy grips.
“Stop clenching, for fuck’s sake,” he grumbles. “It’s never going to go down if you keep squeezing the shit out of it.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Just relax.”
“Relax? I have a cock and knot wedged inside me!”
He chuckles.
I’m utterly boneless. Except for there, where I’m pulsing, throbbing in a way that feels like I’m teetering constantly on the verge of another climax. He cups my ass and squeezes lightly.
I clench over his arresting hardness.
He groans.