Her groans grew rabid, his fist tightly gripping his burgeoning knot until seed splattered the floor. Air ripe with the smell of semen, he rode the high, tenderly kissing Claire's inner thighs and mumbling that she tasted delicious.
Falling back against the table, Claire stared blankly at the memorized grey ceiling, trying to ignore that her thighs were on his shoulders, that he was licking her clean, and that he had, once again, expertly commanded her body's response… as Svana had claimed the two of them had done to other Omegas.
That thought brought blistering heat to her chest, the painful knowledge inspiring instant anguish.
"What is wrong, little one?" Shepherd pulled his tongue from her slit. "I did not mount you; that should not have caused you pain."
Claire answered robotically. "It didn't hurt."
More soft kisses to her inner thigh and a strong purr preceded the promise, "I will replace your paints; you need not feel distressed."
To win the war, she would have to wage a battle. Closing her eyes tight, she told herself that she could do this. "It's not the paints. I was thinking of the Omegas."
"They are safe, as per our agreement. My men watch over them from a distance." Again he tasted her center, enjoying how she bowed from even a simple kiss over her pert nub.
Gasping, Claire answered, "Not those Omegas. The ones you shared with Svana."
The man froze, hesitating before he spoke. "Why would you think of them?"
Claire forced her eyes open, lifted her head, and found Shepherd watching her very carefully. "I wonder if they were frightened or ashamed."
Each word was growled. "They were all willing."
"Somehow I think you misunderstand the meaning of that word. Estrous bends the mind." She knew that better than anyone. "Did you speak to them before or after?"
"No."
Then they were probably dead. "That makes me sad."
Large hands accompanied an almost unsteady purr, Shepherd stroking her from her knee to hip. "Do not be sad, little one."
Claire lay back, eyes once again on the ceiling. "I do not remember how to be happy."Leslie was on his couch, working on a COMscreen when Corday returned.
Her mouth was set and she was clearly displeased. "Another rendezvous with your Claire?"
"No." Corday stripped his coat, his back to the Alpha female.
"Yet you smell of her." Leslie scooted a little closer, her tone instantly light. "How is the Omega faring?"
Tired eyes, his face lined in disappointment, Corday could not muster any enthusiasm for Leslie. "Claire has—"
A knock sounded at the door, not Claire's timid scratches but an arrogant bang. Gun already in hand, Corday motioned for Leslie to move out of sight.
"I hear you breathing on the other side of that thing, Enforcer." The tiny view through the peephole showed an unwelcome woman. "Open up or I will simply turn the knob of the door I've already unlocked." Maryanne smirked. "I am trying to be civil."
Corday turned the knob, finding it was indeed unlocked, and opened the door far enough to point his gun at Maryanne's face.
Maryanne sniffed and waved her hand at his petty threat. "I saw you skulking around the Omega's trash heap. Low and behold, it was Enforcer stink she was wearing when she came to me. Now that I smell her on you I see that I was right, as usual. Let me in, I want to talk to Claire."
Teeth clenched, Corday hissed, "She isn't here."
"Bullshit," the woman spat, looking over Corday's shoulder to peer into the apartment.
"You have three seconds to tell me who you are before I shoot you."
"Oh, shut up." The blonde pushed past him. "I'm here to see my friend."
"Claire O'Donnell is not your friend." But he felt a spark of hope that maybe they were… because he could smell traces of the Omega on the strange woman's clothing.
He closed the door and watched the woman look around, frowning when she saw no sign of Claire.
Maryanne dumped the bundle in her hands on the floor. "She left these clothes at my place. Feel free to thank me for returning your crap to you." Moving deeper into the apartment, her chocolate brown eyes looked straight at the pretty Alpha standing in the corner watching her like a hawk. "And what do we have here?"
Running a hand through his hair, Corday said, "That's my girlfriend, Monica."
"Nice try, Enforcer." Maryanne rolled her eyes. "But anyone paying attention knows Leslie Kantor's heart is pining for Premier Callas." Smirking meanly, the blonde looked at the woman and teased, "I slept with him twice to get out of jail time. He was awful… You dodged a bullet when he shot down your marriage proposal."
Leslie's expression grew dark. "Who are you?"
Turning her attention back to Corday and ignoring the spoiled niece of Senator Kantor, Maryanne growled, "I smelled you in her apartment, I smelled you on her clothes, this room is saturated in her, but she is not here or with her pack… so where is Claire?"