Page 62 of Bad Girl

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“Naked, omega,” I said, but without an alpha’s crack. I wasn’t like him—I didn’t want to pretend I was an alpha. I wanted to share something with him, something I was pretty sure he needed as much as he needed to rule over me. His jaw muscle bunched, and then he nodded, hands going to his jeans and unbuttoning them, a growing crowd gathering as the world’s most truncated strip tease took place. He kicked off his boots, then his jeans and his underwear, until he stood there, not a scrap of softness in him as he held his arms out wide. He was still in full revolt, with the tilt of his chin and the glitter of his eyes, but he waited, like a good little omega, for my order.

“Limits,” I said.

“There are no limits with us. At some point, you’ll realise that.”

“Limits, Tris. You said they can’t touch me without your permission.”

“And that’s my only one.” He looked at the others. “Don’t touch her unless she wants it, unless she explicitly says she does. The rest is yours. You want to see how this feels? I put myself in your hands. Do with me what you wilt.”

“Tristan—” Len said, climbing up beside me, a frown on his face.

“No, I won’t lay any other restrictions on her. I won’t.”

“You’ll have to be bloody careful,” Jackson said, staring at me. “This is like a fucking sexual freefall. You have to be the one to catch him.”

And with that, Tris smirked, putting himself into the apparatus, fitting his feet into the stirrups, his hands onto the arm rests. For a second, my breath was taken away by the contrast of the gleaming chrome, the dark vinyl, and him. He looked incandescent under the fluorescent lights.

“You’ll need to read him closely,” Len said. “Make sure he doesn’t go too deep.”

“Perhaps we all do.”

James had joined us, the small platform now an intimate space with all of us ringing Tristan, and I wondered if we were exactly where we were supposed to be.

“It seems like this could be a perfect first step at trying what we propose.” James always managed to sound so clipped and controlled, but I thought we all saw through that. He might have shoved his hands deep in his pockets, but there was an alertness that belied his casual stance.

“Then I better leave you to it,” Jackson said, moving to go.

“No,” I said, stopping him where he was. “Stay, please.”

Len frowned at me slightly, so he didn’t catch the look of relief on Jackson’s face, quickly smothered.

“So let’s tie him down, take away that choice first. I don’t want anything in his mouth, stopping him from communicating, and no is going to mean no. I don’t feel confident enough to push past that yet.”

“Good choice,” Len said, bending down to wrap the leather restraints around Tris’ ankle, Jackson and James wrapping his wrists. Which left me to tie down his other foot. The leather felt tough, resistant in my hands, as I tugged it tight, but not too tight, making sure his circulation wasn’t compromised, feeding the tongue through the clasp. Then I stepped back, positioning myself between his splayed legs, looking at the bounty before me.

Glint’s choice of podium made perfect sense, now I stood in the same place she had. Her beautiful girl had been spread out before her, a banquet of flesh, as my beautiful boy was. His stomach muscles jumped as I spread my hand across them, sweeping down almost to where his rigid cock wept, leaving a trail of slick across his stomach.

“So we work together to help him to surrender?” I asked the others, and they all nodded. My fingers trailed across the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, liking the contrast between the golden tone and my scarlet manicure. I let the nails score his flesh, leaving red lines in their wake.

“Take a deep breath, omega,” I said. “We’re going in.”

Chapter 26

As hands moved across Tristan’s skin, the noise of the club dying away to be replaced by the rapid pant of his breath, I found myself envying my love for the first time ever. No one touched him anywhere too intimate, but I could almost feel those fingers tracing the veins of his forearms, raking through his hair, sweeping across his abdomen, and following the shapes of the muscles in his calves. That’s where I was, moving down, down, until I got to the graceful complexity of his feet.

Neat pedicure, they insisted on that in the academies, broad feet, high arches, a sprinkling of hair across the tops, and tendons that stood out starkly as I traced my fingers across them.

“Kit…” he hissed, staring at me as I touched him, but I paid him little mind. It was his body I was listening to, not him, not until he said no. “Kit!”

“Perhaps a blindfold?” James suggested, unwrapping the scarf from around his neck, which made me wonder if that was why he’d worn it in the first place. What had he planned to do with the soft length of fabric as he got ready? My fascination with it drew a smile from him. “Here.” He placed the fabric in my hands, and I instantly saw the wisdom of it. It was soaked through with alpha scent, exactly what Tris needed. I moved around the podium, displacing Len, who seemed to be focussed on tracing every feature of Tristan’s face with those broad fingers.

“Wait…” my lover gasped out. “Wait…”

“If you don’t want this, just say no,” I said, holding the fabric up as I stared down at him.

He was aching. I could see it in every line of his body. His cock leaked slick in helpless little spurts, glazing his stomach, and I knew if I got between his legs, I’d find him wet and ready for me, something that had me pausing for a second. I remembered Fire and the way she’d fucked that alpha with Blur looking on, but I had to focus on now, on how Tristan was responding.

Was this how alphas felt, as they looked down upon their omegas, filled with a terrible power and just as terrible responsibility? I watched him respond without reacting myself, saw his brow knotting and his face tensing and his lips falling open, little gasps of pleasure, fear, desire all forced out of him.


Tags: Sam Hall Fantasy