“Fuck!” My hand slammed down on top of Bren’s, holding him there, right where I needed, until it broke over me, sweet, sweet, delicate pleasure, almost selfish in its simplicity. I clamped tight around his fingers, clasping him over and over until I was done.
I cracked open my eyes to see Bren smiling down at me, then licking his fingers clean, Rhys leaning over to kiss the taste off his lips before they kissed me, gently, on the side of my face. We snuggled down in the fancy arse hotel bed, cocooned tight against the world.
I dreamt of it, that night, again.
“Just through here, omega.”
The voice was rich, dark, and throbbing with command, but I could never remember how it sounded when I was awake, not even when Melanie, my new therapist, had tried her hypnosis tricks. Here, I didn’t question the directive in the voice, the pressure of his hand on my back, or our destination, even when the door closed with a click.
“Good girl.” I felt that compliment all the way down to my soul. Yes, that, that was what I wanted to be. “Such a good little omega. You want to please me, don’t you?” The nod that came was an automatic response, not a conscious one, but he didn’t want my rational mind working right now. It was locked up in the back of my head, screaming as this went down. “Suck.”
A thumb was pressed between my lips, the taste of salt, Scotch, and cigars strong, so strong, I gagged, but he tsked at that.
“Suck, omega.”
I didn’t want to, that rose, what he’d tried hard to batten down. I didn’t want this room, the scandal that would come of an omega going into the room with an alpha alone, the acrid taste of him in my mouth. My teeth ached with the need to bite down.
“Suck!”
Like a slap to the face, his will crushed mine, and I suckled on his thumb like a child, his constant stream of filth telling me how velvety my mouth felt, directing me on how to keep my teeth off him, until finally, he yanked his hand away. His belt buckle flashed in some small band of moonlight as his hand went to loosen it.
“What the hell is going on?”
George, he cracked the door, then thrust it open, the light pouring in to reveal my disgrace.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Cyn. What the hell did he do?”
“Nothing she doesn’t want. Run along, Rivers, this is of no concern to you.”
“The hell it isn’t. I’m her chaperone, and she’s only just turned eighteen! Cyn, sweets, look at me. Is this what you want? You need to tell me.”
But I didn’t, did I? Instead, I burst into tears like a little weak omega as my own will was reinstated, while his was withdrawn.
“Five thousand for the girl,” the alpha said in a flat tone.
“What? No, what the hell are you—”
“Twenty then. Let’s not fuck around, shall we? Hand her over, and the money will be in your account before you get to the bottom of the stairs.”
“What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t just buy Miranda Rhodes’ daughter. Whatever vile crap you get up to with your cronies and the academy omegas won’t play here. She’ll have you crucified in court.”
I didn’t hear the rest of the conversation, George having shoved me behind him, making himself a barrier between the alpha and me, and that was when I saw him. Not the alpha, he was there, larger than life, bespoke tailored dark suit, crisp white shirt, and a grey tie with a design embossed onto the fabric. No, it was the other one.
What? What other one?
Just an outline in the darkness beyond, a dark shape moving in a room full of other dark shapes, the flash of his watch face the thing that gave him away. It was him I tracked, or his silhouette at least, as the two other men argued.
“You’ll keep your fucking mouth shut, Rivers,” the alpha snapped crisply, “or you’ll find my house closed to any and all the little omegas you squire about town. You’ll find it very difficult to pimp yourself out if the elite refuse to receive you.”
I felt the tension in George’s shoulders, the quiver of them as he held me back, all that was standing between the alpha and me. But the dark figure, he moved closer and closer, moving through the darkness, towards the light, towards the alpha—
“Cyn!”
My eyes snapped open to hear the tail end of my scream die away.
“It’s all right,” one or more of them said, wrapping me up tight. “You’re safe now. You’re safe.”
But I could taste cigar in my mouth as I fought my way free of them, snatching my phone from the bedside table and punching the call to George through.