Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Esme
Iwas already convinced something was wrong when the three of them broke off into a heated discussion to one side, while the rest of the team stood around looking at everything but me.
And I’m just standing here alone watching them.
It’s clear the three of them know each other.
And not in a casual, we’ve-been-on-a-mission-once sort of way.
By their body language, the ease then the spikes of tension, the way no one flinches when tempers flare, they know each other really well.
Why does Zeb know Ethan Black and Ryker Sherwin? How does he know them? I mean, I’m sure most soldiers know of Ethan Black. He was a pretty big deal even before he mated Lillian Brach.
And a bigger one now, probably…
But the worst part, the part that’s throwing me, is that Zeb’s not acting remotely subordinate to either of them. In fact, the heated back and forth between them, I’d say he’s giving as good as he gets.
And then there was that look when they first went over there, the way Ethan and Ryker both lifted their heads and stared at me speculatively. What was that about?
They come to some agreement. Ethan lifts his wrist device and taps something. A sharp blare cuts through the air. Bodies snap to attention, orders are called out, followed by the pound of boots on the ground, fast and urgent.
The mission is about to begin.
Adrenaline surges through me. We haven’t even discussed the team’s plan. And where the hell is the medical section?!
Zeb strides straight toward me. He doesn’t slow as he nears, keeps coming with a determined glint in his eyes.
I squeak and take a hasty step back.
Too slow.
He ducks his shoulder, drives it into my belly, and tosses me clean over. “What the hell are you doing?!” I’ve seen my share of omegas being manhandled—picked up and tossed over a controller’s shoulder like it’s standard protocol. But not once has anyone ever bestowed this lofty honor upon me.
I can’t decide whether to be indignant or thrilled. “Now is not the time for whatever this is!”
He slaps my ass and keeps walking, gait determined, utterly unbothered.
It always looked hot when I saw women being carried off like this. No one ever mentioned the pressure on your belly and ribs, nor the unpleasant jostling and dizziness that comes from being upside down. “Where are you taking me? I need to report to the medical section!”
Another sharp spank lands. This one is firm enough to sting.
“Quiet, omega,” he drawls. “You know how these things go. Nobody’s going to need medical attention for at least twenty minutes.”
What is he planning to do with those twenty minutes? Actually, my body knows and is already responding in anticipation.
I try to peer around him—not easy, but I glimpse a line of ground-floor offices on the side of the warehouse.
He shoves straight into… an office full of monitors and personnel.
“Sorry,” he says, slamming the door shut behind us. I catch a glimpse of startled faces before it rattles into the jamb with a metallic thud.
He tries the next room, strides inside, slams the door shut behind us, and drops me to my feet without a word. He drops his helmet to the floor, snatches mine off, and lets it fall beside his. Then he yanks the zip down on my body armor and shoves it over my shoulders.
I’m not wearing a bra. My breasts spill free, and his eyes go straight there.
He groans. Two armor-clad hands come up to cup them together. “Fuck, these are pretty,” he purrs.
Any resistance I have melts under those earnest words. “What are you doing?” I whisper.
His grin is wide and predatory, and lights me up.
“Don’t think I can’t feel what’s building up inside you.” He closes one gloved hand around my throat and yanks me up against the wall of his chest.
My suit’s half down. My arms are pinned at my sides. I’m exposed, helpless, and burning. Then his mouth crashes onto mine, and I go up in flames.
The kiss is hot and hungry, all nipping teeth and tongues.
One hand at the back of my neck holding me still, the other on my breast, squeezing it roughly.
I had questions. I couldn’t tell you what a single one of them was right now.
He’s going to fuck me. Right here, right now, in the middle of an operation, when I should be in the medical tent, familiarizing myself with the team, and getting ready.
Instead, I’m half-undressed, pinned against him, and losing my mind.
He tears his lips from mine, breathing hard. “You are so damn beautiful,” he says.
The words disarm me. Completely.
We stare at each other for long, thick moments.
“I’m going to have to do you from behind,” he murmurs. “Don’t have time to take everything off right now.”
Before I can formulate a response, he spins me around and plasters me up against the door. Then he yanks my armor down over my ass, one of my hands coming free in the process.
“Um. What?” I gasp as he spears a thick, glove-covered finger into my core. I arch up onto my toes, dropping my forehead against the cold metallic door, panting like I’m deep into a training session, and dripping with need.
The stretch is delectable and sets sweet nerves the length of my channel sparking to life.
“What a filthy, naughty little omega,” he rumbles, fucking his finger into me, adding another one, making me whine in helpless pleasure as my body reaches for release. “Not got time for finesse. I need you too fucking much.”
Pleasure spikes through my core. His big body blankets mine, keeping me still as he thrusts his fingers in and out before they leave me altogether
He leans back a little, and I hear the faint clink as the clips on his armor give before his rich scent hits me like a blow to the head, sending me a little stupid.
He picks me up, his hands behind my knees, bending me nearly in two, and wedges me up against the door like that. It’s awkward, I’m all tangled up in my clothes and still trying to wriggle when he drops me until my pussy lodges over his cock.
A shot of lust lights up my core, so intense it borders on electricity.
He sinks me down as he thrusts up. A groan escapes my lips at the sudden savage penetration.
“Fuck,” he mutters gruffly against my ear. “My knot is already swollen. This is going to be rough on you. Nothing we can do about that now, is there?”
My body is bent, and one hand is trapped. He doesn’t care. He fucks me against the door with deep, hefty, pounding thrusts that bang me into the unyielding surface. I’m like a toy in his hands. All I can do is take what he gives me.
The climax comes from nowhere. It shoots me straight into the stratosphere—helpless mewling sounds pouring from my lips.
“You feel good,” he mumbles. “Hot. Tight. I’m going to come. You want that, baby? Want me to fill you all up?”
“Yes.” The word comes out slurred.
No one’s ever done this before. No one would ever dare. He’s not an ordinary soldier. I know that now. He doesn’t give a damn about rules. He smacked a recruiter’s head into the desk. I’ve met some tough soldiers, but I’ve never seen one of them do that before. He’s completely crazy.
“I told you this was mine. I’m just reminding you of it,” he grunts with each deep thrust before he slams deep and stills.
There is too much of him. Too much cock and knot. I’m completely stuffed. The air is whistling in and out of my lungs as I grip and milk his cock in the throes of a climax that never seems to end.
He’s still coming when he pulls out, tearing a cry from my lips.
He carries me over to a nearby table, dripping his cum all over the floor. Here he drops me on my back, bends my knees up to my chest, and penetrates me again.
Fingers wrapped around my throat, he fucks me.
I need a timeout. I need a moment.
He’s not giving me one. His face is a mask of determination as he pounds into me. And I’m coming again. What does this man do to me? He destroys me. Only he’s not destroying my body, is he? No, my body craves this. Loves it. He’s destroying my mind.
He comes with a roar while I’m still reeling.
His radio crackles from inside a helmet on the floor.
He huffs out a breath, pulls out, and lets my legs drop. I lie there, dazed, as he snatches up his helmet and shoves it on while fumbling to put himself away. “Acknowledged,” he mutters.
He grabs my helmet next, drops it onto the table beside me, then hauls me to my feet.
My arms and legs don’t work. I’m trembling, dripping, and undone. He doesn’t wait, just goes ahead and starts stuffing me back into my armor.
“There,” he says, satisfaction ripe in his voice. “That’s filled you up, hasn’t it?”
I blink a few times. “What was that? What’s happening?”
“I’ve got to go,” he says.
“Go?”
He yanks my zip up—pauses halfway, my breasts crushed together and heaving in the gap.
He groans, presses a hot kiss to the center of my cleavage, then throws a look up at the ceiling like he’s begging for strength, and tugs the zipper the rest of the way.
My helmet is dropped onto my head with practiced efficiency.
He taps it twice with his knuckles. “I’m needed at the front. ”
“The front? What! Why?”
He takes me by the arm, swings the door open, and marches out, taking me with him.
“Acknowledged,” he says into his comm. “Leaving now.”
“Why can’t I hear this? Why am I not in the communication?”
“You don’t need to be,” he says.
Up ahead is the sectioned-off medical area, lined with curtained cubicles, ready for when the wounded start to arrive. It’s huge. I’ve no idea how I missed it before.
He stops at the entrance and releases my arm. Then catches my chin between his fingers and thumb, tilting my face up toward his.
He presses a chaste kiss to my lips. “Stay here. Don’t leave, no matter what you feel, understand? Disobey me and I’m going to be giving you an ass fucking you won’t forget… after I’ve brought a pretty pink blush to it under my belt.”
I gulp. “Um… what?!”