“Please, Tris.”
That was the omega’s role—to beg and plead with their partners for them to please them, to be suitably sweet and needy. Right now, I didn’t feel sweet at all. My fingers dug into the taut surfaces of his biceps, my own arousal blowing so hard, so suddenly, sweat prickled across my brow.
His smile, that was what had made me think he would reveal as an alpha, a curious mix of sweet and savage. He looked down at me like I was some small morsel that he was dying to eat. All the vulnerability was gone, and something much harder rose in his eyes as he let go of my dress.
“My Kit…” came his low rumble as I was bared before him.
“Fuck, Kit, I’m close.”
His voice down the phone line jerked me back to the here and now to where I was, lying on my bed, jerking off to my boyfriend’s voice, because the stupid damn rules around omegas kept us apart. My body sung with my arousal from now and then combined, driving me out of my mind to such an extent, I didn’t hear the knock at the door. So in breezed Helen, catching our pants, our gasps, our professions of—
“Tristan, gotta go,” I ground out before thumbing the end call button and tossing the phone down on the bed. I wiped my fingers on my sheets before whipping the cover
s back.
“You’re due at the…”
Helen’s words dropped away as I emerged from the bed naked, and even her weakened beta senses were able to pick up the scent of aroused omega. She swallowed, then frowned, her eyes dropping to the bed.
“Who were you talking to?”
“If you think I’m gonna answer that question you are sorely—” I shot back, but Helen interrupted my reply.
“What were you doing? Were you sexting?” I snorted, her prim Victorian miss tone at odds with her stylish façade. “Give me your phone.”
“What? No fucking way.”
“Give me. Your phone.”
I stared at Helen with rapt fascination. The bitch was trying to pull an alpha bark on me, and what a mistake that was. I might be naked, shorter than her, smaller, softer, and with sticky damn fingers, but I was a Greyson. My family had been a power in this city since before whatever her kind was had dragged themselves from their antediluvian swamp.
“You came into my room without my permission, again. You’re standing here, lecturing me, before I’ve even had a chance to put clothes on. You’re talking to me like I’m the help and you’re the daughter of the house.”
The thing about being one of the elite was to always, always act like whatever situation you were in was one adding to, not taking from, your position of strength. So I strolled up to her with the gait of a catwalk model until I looked up into this basic bitch’s eyes and stared her down.
“You’re fucking my father,” I said, taking a guess, and yup, there was that flinch that let me know I’d hit a target. “You think because he likes sinking his dick in tight beta pussy that gives you rights.”
I picked up my phone, opened it, and navigated over to an escort agency I knew my father liked to use.
“It doesn’t.” I showed the screen, flicking through profile after profile of beautiful betas, some with incredibly expansive…skills. “I can have three of Madame Chatt’s best girls here before night falls, have them ensconced in the bedroom you think you have carte blanche to enter, and he’ll forget all about your pathetic attempts to satisfy him. Fifi here is remarkably flexible. She talked me through the process of taking a knot for the first time. Sweet girl. There isn’t much Dad wouldn’t give to make her his mistress. Perhaps I could try and talk her around again.”
Helen’s mouth thinned down to something even her very expertly applied fillers couldn’t plump. She stared at me, a picture of impotence, which was a feeling I knew well. This bitch would never have dared pull this shit with Cress or Theo.
As if thinking their name summoned them, I heard my name being called on the other side of the door.
“Kit, you in here? We need to talk about the Chadwick…”
Cress walked in like she owned the place, but as she was my actual flesh and blood, she was forgiven. Well, especially after what came next. She was looking at her tablet as she stepped in, going through the social events we’d need to attend and those we could reject outright. Then she looked up.
“What the hell is going on here?”
My sister’s voice… She might be a beta, but she had the whip crack of a voice we’d all learnt at my grandfather’s knee down pat.
“Ah…just a fitting, Ms Greyson.”
“Bullshit, it is.” Cress’ eyes sized up the situation swiftly before she reached behind my door for my robe, tossing it to me. “What the hell are you doing, sniffing around my sister before she’s had a chance to get dressed?”
Helen’s eyes went wide, and for a split second, I felt sorry for her. Then I remembered the crap she was trying to pull.