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Nodding that he understood, Corday went to his dresser and pulled on a heavy sweater. "I'll go for a run. You can wear these when I return."

Lashes lowering, she whispered, "Thank you."

Senator Kantor left, Corday his companion.

Alone, she stood from the sofa to prepare.

She needed a cold shower, all that freezing water would help clear the cobwebs. Claire cranked up the tap, eager for a deluge. She sighed the instant pipes groaned and her sleep-deprived mind mistook the noise for something very different. The effect was immediate. Under the spray, eyes closed, where there should only have been cold water streaming over her flesh, the heat of large hands replaced it.

Roughened palms flowed over the line of her spine, soothed the dip in her lower back... the air full of appreciative grunts. Those same hands, callused and familiar, stroked her soft belly, stole upward to hold the weight of her breasts, thumbs circling pert nipples until they were so sensitive Claire whimpered. The thread pulsed in her chest, generous slick dripping down her legs once the growl sounded a third time.

All around her, low breaths echoed deep and hungry, the heat of his chest pressed to her back, the thickness of his cock grinding at the cleft in her buttocks.

Two fingers were pushed into her mouth.

His order at her ear to suck, and Claire's eyes rolled back in her skull.

Pressed to the tile, nipples chafed by grout, Claire's tongue hungrily twisted as it was told to. The head of his cock, searing hot, prodded insistent where she ached. His was not a slow entry. Shepherd speared her, his rhythm erratic, filling the small enclosure with Claire's muffled cries no matter how he finger fucked her mouth.

Forehead against the tile, hardly able to breath, Claire came with a shriek. Everything inside her clenched, slick ran like a river, and the hallucination ended.

Phantom hands were gone.

There was no Shepherd.

No growls.

No licentious grunts.

All there had ever been was the sound of the pipes and her inadequate fingers working her pussy.

Shaken, she looked down at her hand, horrified to see what she'd done. She was going crazy, every other thought running out of control. In a panic, she reached for the soap and began to scrub away the pheromone-laced slick before the whole apartment reeked of Omega arousal.

She was in the kitchen when Corday returned. Looking up from the simple pasta she'd prepared for dinner, Claire offered a smile. "Welcome back."

Good and sweaty, Corday's cockeyed smile was quickly hidden when he pulled the pungent sweater over his head. "Just let me grab a quick shower. We'll eat, then we'll go."

Nodding, smiling in gratitude for his effort, she announced, "Dinner will be ready when you're done."

Once Corday had disappeared behind the bathroom door, she retrieved the little white pill that had been hidden away days ago. Crushing it to a fine powder, she mixed the drug into his serving.

Claire knew no amount of soap could wash away the pheromones lingering in the bathroom. When he took longer than usual, red up to her ears, she tried to ignore Corday's muffled grunt, ashamed she'd put him in such a position.

Another stifled noise, an extended curse, and the sound of the water ended.

By the time Corday emerged, her embarrassment had faded back into familiar fatigue, and she offered the dish.

Between the run, jacking off in the shower, and the sleeping pill she'd hidden in his food, Corday was out cold in less than an hour. Claire dressed in the sweaty clothes he'd prepared for her, threw a blanket over the Beta who'd been so kind, and left to find her Omegas.

#

The harsher chill of the Lower Reaches was underscored by light flurries dampening Claire's clothes. The distance was far, her pace dangerous for an exhausted woman about ready to drop.

It seemed they had been anticipating her, a small group of Omegas already at the cracked entrance, candle in hand. Doubled over once safely inside, Claire struggled to catch her breath, croaking, "Senator Kantor has a plan. He can provide food and real heat-suppressants."

"How?" It was Lilian, the redhead, who brought the candle closer.

"That is what we must discuss. He wishes to break us up into smaller cells, smuggle us to safe houses where armed Enforcers could stand guard. Or, should we demand it, they will bring rations here."

"The Enforcers are hunted down in the streets." Deriding, Lillian snorted, "They'll all be dead in less than a year. Who would bring the food then, Claire?"

Too tired to be patient, Claire stood up straight. "I'm only offering options. The group must decide for itself if they want instant slavery or difficult freedom."

It was then Claire realized no more Omegas had come to join them. Nona was nowhere to be seen. The only faces around that candle were Lilian and two very unfriendly looking women.


Tags: Addison Cain Alpha's Claim Erotic