Page 4 of Bad Girl

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“Can’t wait to see your hot little cunt stretched around his knot, taking him deep.”

My skin was on fire, and I writhed against Tristan, his plans whispered against my lips.

“He’s going to push you to your limits and just a little bit more, create that tight little pinch you love.”

Tristan’s cruel fingers bit into the soft flesh of my arm, almost hard enough to bruise, but I craved that pain. He was right—there was always a bite in taking a knot. While I wished I didn’t with every breath, I needed that pain almost as much as I needed him.

Because when he did that, when he pushed me, when an alpha forced his knot inside me as Tristan held me close, stroking my hair, praising me for being such a good girl, that was when the never-ending agony of what we were stopped.

When we were teenagers, fooling around in the instinctual yet largely innocent way of the unrevealed, we’d been sure Tristan would reveal as an alpha. His size, his strength, his natural dominance. He’d always been the leader when we were kids, daring us to do crazier and crazier things, and Theo and I, we’d done every one of them for the love of him. As he’d ground his unresolved body into mine, each of us seeking a friction we didn’t quite understand, the expectation that he would be an alpha, and I an omega, seemed as real as expecting the sun to rise in the morning.

And then we’d been betrayed by our own bodies. He’d revealed as an omega almost the same time as I did, and we were left to face a shitty reality, where Dad’s and everyone’s eyes were now on us. Omegas were prized commodities to be protected, and we were, even from each other.

I wanted him, naked and hard against me, and knew as soon as Theo parked the car, I’d have him. Apothecary was the playground of the rich and the powerful, and it was the one place we could be who we really were. Our home away from home.

“Save it for when you get inside,” Theo snapped as Tristan did his level best to devour my mouth, sucking every trace of red from it until there was just me, bare for him. He pulled away, his lips rosy now, then smiled as his eyes flicked up to stare at my brother.

“Looks like someone else is getting toey waiting for an alpha,” Tristan purred.

Because that was the thing. If you believed the bullshit about designations, Theo was dominant and assertive, we were passive, waiting around for a firm hand to direct us, and that was the natural way of things. But nature? It was a whole lot more complex than that. The simplistic social Darwinism that people seemed to subscribe to didn’t stand up to any sort of scrutiny, especially not in my family. We both gazed up at my alpha brother and saw the furtive pained expression that joined the three of us together, keeping much more rational Cressida on the outer. Theo, he ached just as much for something he shouldn’t, telling himself each time he came here this was the last time.

But it never was.

“Let’s get to the playrooms,” my brother said quietly. “If you’ve had a difficult week, then I have doubly so. I need…”

“We know what you need, T,” Tristan said, finally pulling away from me, opening the backdoor and tugging me after him, but his arms went around me seconds later. “And we’re here to get it.”

We walked together to the elevator doors, providing a united front as we entered the club. Forbidden desires tied us together and they would be our downfall, we all knew that, just as we were helpless to do anything about it.

Chapter 4

“And what can I do for you, my pretty omegas?” the alpha bitch at the door

asked. She was a picture of stereotypical alpha power, dressed entirely in gleaming black leather, her impressive breasts jutting out over the top of her tightly cinched corset. My gaze slid sideways to see how Tristan responded, but he stared into her eyes, not her chest.

“We want an alpha, male. One who can take direction. No contact for me, only her.”

“Ahh yes… You’re the two that like to play together. Let me check, I think I have your paperwork on file.” She touched her tablet screen several times and then nodded. “Yes, I have you here.”

“Any of the alphas we’ve had before will do, except that dickhead, Garrison.” I winced when I remembered that guy—too keen, too hard, thrusted too far, my cries of pain had seemed to egg him on, not slow him down. Tristan’s arm tightened around my shoulders.

“Hmm… I’ll see what I can do. The club is pumping tonight, and there’s people everywhere. You have priority placement, so I’ll set you up in a room.” Her eyes flicked up to meet ours. “Maybe you can start some preliminaries, whet your appetite in preparation for your alpha?”

Her voice was like an iron fist in a velvet glove, stroking us, paying lip service to the exorbitant fee we paid for a regular play space at Apothecary and my social standing as a Greyson, but within that decisive purr was a command masqueraded as a suggestion. Her will was a living, throbbing thing, dismissing us, urging us to do as she said and not bother her further on a busy night, but Tristan wasn’t one to take direction.

He stared down at me, those green eyes seeming to see everything. I preened slightly under his intent gaze, wanting and needing to be seen by him. He reached out, brushing a thumb across my bottom lip, my mouth opening to suck it in.

“You want that, baby? You want me to tease your pretty pussy, get your slick flowing down your thighs, soaking the couch in readiness?”

“I want you,” I growled back, something that made the alpha snort. Such was the life of an omega. Any displays of power on our part were ‘cute’ or ‘adorable.’ We were infantilised, cast as weak, when I knew just how strong we were forced to be.

My words sank deep, I saw that, Tristan’s eyes fluttering slightly before he straightened up.

“Fine, but have some Scotch sent up. The good stuff, not that swill they tried to foist on us last time.”

“Of course.” The alpha gave us a mocking nod, appearing to appease us while making it clear nothing of the sort was taking place, but we’d get the good Scotch. Dad’s money was as good here as anywhere, but I didn’t care. I burrowed my face into Tristan’s neck, seeking his scent, seeking him, and not being content until I got great big lungfuls sucked deep.

“That’s it,” he said softly as he steered me up the hall, past doors where explosive sounds of pleasure and pain assaulted us. “Breathe me in, Kit. Suck in my scent.”


Tags: Sam Hall Fantasy