Chapter 6
HAROLD
Ithink about her day and night, night and day. Every moment I’m awake, Selene is at the center of my thoughts. Even in my dreams, I see her, though there she is often naked. Sometimes underneath me, and I am naked, too.
That is when I feel the most guilty. The most depraved. She trusts me as her friend, and to dream about her moaning my name is, though she’s not aware of it, a transgression of that trust. Still, that doesn’t seem to stop my subconscious mind from imagining it whenever possible.
No longer do I ponder philosophical questions while on patrol.
Instead, I picture Selene in every state of dress.
I think about how she looked basked in sunlight while she cooked today.
I think about how her rear has filled out, rounded and soft.
I think about her eyes, over and over, and how they always match what she wears because there are so many vivid colors in them.
“Harry?”
I blink as a voice filters through my thoughts, and I glance up from where I’m packing up my bag to go home. It was a long night, and I’m ready to get back to the house and make sure Selene is where I left her.
“You alright, mate?” asks Greld. “You have a weird look on your face.”
“I’m fine. Just tired.” I sling my bag over my shoulder.
“A woman at home now?”
Damn. How does he know? I scramble for what to say, and his lip rises in a knowing smirk the longer I’m silent.
“That’s all I needed to hear.” He waves at me over his shoulder. “Go get home to the missus. See you tomorrow.”
I’m relieved that he didn’t ask more questions.
When I return home, it’s to the sound of quiet whines coming from the bedroom.
I rush to the doorway and peer inside. Selene is in the bed, her eyes squeezed closed, both her hands gripping the blankets.
Another whimper escapes her, and I rush to her side, panicked about what might be wrong.
I’ve worried for some time that her blood hasn’t come, and wondered what it means—if perhaps she’s been ill all along.
“Harry?” she whispers, one eye opening. “Is that you?”
“I’m right here.” I slip my hand over hers. “What’s wrong?”
“Go.” She stares at me, gritting her teeth. “You need to leave.”
I’ve never heard her tone so biting, so forceful before.
“What? No.” I grip her fingers in mine. “I’m not leaving. Tell me what’s the matter, and I’ll get the doctor over here immediately.”
She rips her hand away, her eyes blazing. “Leave. Now.” Her gaze turns pleading. “Please, go.”
Now my worry grows tenfold. Perhaps I’ve only known her for a few months, but something is very amiss for her to make demands.
“Talk to me,” I say earnestly. “What ails you? I’ll leave if you truly need to be alone, but if you’re sick—”
“Yes! I’m sick.” She retreats under the blankets and pulls them up. “Deathly ill. You’ll catch it if you’re too close to me.”
I narrow my eyes at her. Selene is not a very good liar.
“And where would you have gotten this illness?” I ask, leaning closer. Her breath speeds up, and her black pupils swell in size. “Seeing as you rarely go out.”
“I caught it from Sadie.”
I laugh outright at this notion, and Selene frowns. She’s about to reprimand me when her eyes squeeze closed again, and this time she moans.
Whether it is a moan of pain or something else… I’m not sure. But down between my legs, underneath my stiff pants, my cock hears it and listens.
Fuck. This is not what I need right now.
“Selene.” I lean toward her, and she tries to retreat into the pillow, but she’s already on her back. “Tell me what’s wrong. How I can help you.”
She doesn’t seem to be sick with the way her face has been growing redder, her eyes brighter. When I get close, she moans again, this time in a way that is most certainly erotic.
What is happening?
“Please,” Selene begs one more time, her eyes opening just barely. “It hurts. And I can’t… I can’t fix it.” She gasps, then jams a hand down under the blankets.
“What can’t you fix?” I ask gently.
“Myself!” Her hand works under the blanket, and her eyes fall closed again.
“I can’t be fixed. I’m broken. I’m wrong.
I’m terrible, Harry, and you must go before…
” Another moan escapes her, and my cock is swelling at the distinct look of pleasure on her face.
There’s a strange scent in the air, like an orange blossom, but much stronger.
“There is nothing wrong with you.” I try to sound as certain as I feel on this point. “Nothing at all, Selene. But I can’t do anything to help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”
Her hand is moving under the blanket, but then it stops and she groans with frustration.
“I…” Tears build in her eyes as she finally looks up at me. “I… I lied to you, Harry.”
I stare down at her. “About what?”
“About why my father locked me away.”
That wonderful smell fills my head, and I try hard to focus on Selene as she speaks.
“He did it to protect me, but also to protect the world from me.” Her voice sounds so broken, I want nothing more than to embrace her. “I’m… an omega.”
At first, I don’t understand why these things are connected.
Omegas are rare—prized. A handful live in our township, each with families of their own, so their heats are properly managed and cared for.
There is even an omega noblewoman who lives in the house up on the hill with her alpha and beta husbands.
Alphas, on the other hand, are not always so… tempered. Many are mated, but sometimes there will be a brawl at the saloon, and at the root is always a loose alpha. The rest of us betas do our best to handle them, but sometimes their strength is too much for just one or two of us.
This is why her father locked her away?
“I’m sorry,” Selene says, buckling forward. “I’m so sorry I lied to you. But you must go now, because…” She grips the blankets harder like she’s trying to keep her hands still.
It hits me quickly—unfortunate that the realization couldn’t have come sooner.
“You’re in heat,” I say.
She moans pitiably, which is all the affirmation I need.
“I haven’t had one for so long that I thought—” She grits her teeth, breathing hard. “I thought they had gone away.”
I understand now. “Because you were so unhealthy. Now that you’re strong again, it came back.”
“It’s so much worse!” Once again her hand ducks away, and I know then that she’s touching herself under the blankets. “So much worse than before.”
The scent of orange blossoms and honey is everywhere all at once. My cock is throbbing under my pants, and this must be the power of an omega in heat. All I want to do is tear the blanket off of her, position myself between her legs, and—
“Ah!” Selene’s head falls back. “It’s not working. I can’t make it stop.”
I know what she needs. What any omega in heat needs, or so they’ve always said.
“Let me help,” I say as I sit down on the bed.
Her eyes fly open wide. “What?”
I take the hem of the blanket and pull it back. Selene squeaks and tries to cover herself again, so I slide down until I’m lying next to her.
“Let me help you,” I repeat, pushing some hair away from her sweaty forehead. “You need attention there, don’t you?”
She nods rapidly. “But if I do it… nothing happens.”
“Then I will do it.”
Her gaze searches mine, and the desperation is clear in her eyes. With utmost reluctance, she lifts the blanket.
My arm ducks under it, coasting down her sternum and across her belly. She’s completely bare, and I slow down to run my hand over her soft skin before finding her curls. I push my fingers through them, and Selene’s hips jolt in anticipation. My fingers creep over the mound of her pelvis and there…
She is wet. So, so wet. Covered in slick, which must be the source of that aroma. Now my cock is begging for her, but I refuse to even consider it.
No, I know what has to be done now.
SELENE
I can’t believe this is real. Harry’s lying beside me, his arm underneath the blanket, his broad fingers skating up and down the folds of my sex. I can feel how soaked I am, which is its own kind of humiliation.
Harry inhales, and his eyes fall closed in what can only be described as pleasure.
“You smell incredible,” he whispers, leaning closer as his fingers explore. “Unlike anything I’ve smelled before.”
I smell? I want to wriggle away, but then his finger glances over that sensitive nub, and I gasp in response. Harry pauses, then retreats and does it again, and it’s so much—so much—better than touching myself.
“Is that it? You need to be touched?” I’m surprised by how low his voice goes as he says these words.
“Y-yes.” I’m humiliated to admit it. “Yes, I do.”
His other hand reaches up and strokes my cheek. “It’s all right. I’ll touch you.”
And he does, circling my clit and then brushing over it, changing up his direction when it suits him, and it’s everything I needed. I writhe and moan, the pleasure nearly overwhelming, the heat in my belly growing until it’s scorching.
Then Harry’s hand explores down, and there lies my secret place.
The place that’s so empty, that’s so desperate, that cries with need.
He gently presses the pad of a finger through, and though that opening is so small and so private, I don’t fight him.
I need this, whatever it is, as much as I need air.
“Let me in,” Harry murmurs to me, circling and then pushing, his finger trying to fit through. Then, suddenly, it enters me, and I moan in the most perfect bliss.
Nothing has ever felt as good as that one finger inside me.
Harry’s brows rise. “Are you a virgin, Selene?”
I nod, his voice almost drowned out by my pleasure. I don’t have the wherewithal right now to be embarrassed.
“I see.” He nods as if this makes it all clear to him.
He gently works his finger deeper, and I buck against it, my body needing more and more even as the pressure grows uncomfortable.
Once he’s buried in me, Harry withdraws that finger, and I keen in displeasure.
But then he thrusts it back in, and that’s even better than before, even more pristine.
He repeats this motion, sinking it into me and then pulling out, and I wonder what it would be like if that were his cock there instead.
Another moan is wrenched from my lips at this thought.
Somehow, as if by magic, Harry is able to keep his hand moving inside me while rubbing my clit at the same time, and whatever that tickling sensation is at the back of my throat…
it’s growing, and growing, and so is the fire sprouting up from where his hand slicks in and out of me, making wet noises with every pump.
“Harry!” I’m calling his name now as that energy grows, becoming almost painful as something inside me waits to break. “Please, I—”
“Shh.” He leans down closer until his forehead is touching mine, the tips of our noses together. “Don’t worry. Let it happen.”
My arms find their way around his neck as he works me with his hand, and I spin faster and faster, until suddenly, it explodes.
I scream as it overtakes me, as the pleasure eats me whole, and my hips snap against his palm.
I feel so much liquid pour out of me that I worry for the bed, but still Harry is moving his arm, his own body pressed tight against my side.
Then, finally, it ebbs. I exhale everything, too worn out to even move. I gaze up into Harry’s blue eyes as he withdraws his hand from under the blanket and brings it, soaked with my fluids, to his face.
I have never felt so embarrassed. I’m about to cry my apologies when his tongue darts out and licks his finger.
He licked me. Then he turns a smile on me.
“Do you feel better now?”
I don’t have words for how much better.
“Thank you.” That’s all I can manage.
Harry nods, then tucks me back under the blanket.
When he rises, I see that he’s tenting his trousers, but he ignores it as he slips out of the room.
He returns with a cloth, which he gives to me without any judgment on his face.
I clean up under the blanket and then he removes the cloth again, returning with that significant lump still under his pants.
When he sits down on the bed, all I want to do is throw my arms around him and show him how much this means to me.
Instead, I stay where I am, but reach out to touch his arm.
“I’m glad it was you,” I say. “I’m so glad it was you.”