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His fingers curled inside my body as his thumb pressed against my clit a little too hard. The sensation was too rough and all wrong. I smothered the cry that tried to wrench free.
I could be soundless. Lifeless. I would endure this the way I’d endured everything else.
His fingers left my body and he lifted them to his mouth, sucking them between his lips with an appreciative growl.
“You taste divine, omega,” he rasped, rolling his hips under me. His hard cock jabbed insistently against the small of my back.
My legs opened a bit wider of their own accord, my body and mind at impossible odds.
No, no, no. Close dammit!
But the alpha behind me chuckled. “You want me, don’t you? Want my cock, my knot stretching out your tight little cunt until it rips apart at the seams?”
Okay, not just no, but hell no. What woman would literally want her pussy split open? Did a pussy even have seams? I didn’t remember that from mandatory health class in high school.
I knew the basics about how omegas and alphas worked. I’d learned about their anatomies in health class my freshman year of high school. About how alphas had a knot at the base of their cocks that swelled to lock inside an omega’s body thanks to super elastic vaginal walls and copious amounts of slick omegas produced as lubricant. I knew they relied on scent and senses to guide them to a perfect mate or pack.
But I also knew that I’d spent the first seventeen years of my life believing I was a regular old beta. Only freak genetics changed that fact of life, but it had been years without my body going into heat, and, unfortunately for the High Alpha, I wouldn’t be a full omega until that particular gift of biology happened. A heat signaled my body was ready for breeding, and therefore I would be ready to marry the High Alpha and bear his heirs.
But as the years ticked by and my body didn’t show a single sign of heat, he began to grow desperate.
Which was why he’d started these weekly orgies where the other alphas of the group—known as Shepherds—selected members of the flock to sleep with. Omegas were driven by biology, and apparently there had been studies that showed an omega’s heat could be triggered if they were saturated by sex pheromones.
It wasn’t like I had access to things like a phone or computer to fact check that info, but it was what the High Alpha had declared was needed to “bring forth my time.”
I threw up a little in my mouth, too, when I first heard it put that way.
This was the seventh week of orgies, and I was so over it. Truth was, they did affect me; for days after I would be sick. The oversaturation of scents and sounds made my emotions and impulses go haywire. Sometimes that meant I’d throw up or have a migraine. Sometimes both.
There was a part of my omega side that was curious about sex and alphas, but none of these alphas smelled right. None of them felt right. I vaguely remembered my health teacher prattling on about omegas needing to feel safe with an alpha, and I felt anything but safe in this place.
Even now, one of the Shepherds was fucking a woman while staring at my exposed pussy. When he caught my gaze, he licked his lips and slammed his hips harder into his partner. His nostrils flared as he tried to inhale my scent.
The men—all alphas—didn’t need the tea to perform. They were ready, willing, and more than able. In fact, I had a feeling as I watched a couple of them that they were disappointed their partners didn’t put up more of a fight.
Humiliation scorched my cheeks crimson as the Shepherd let out a throaty growl, his eyes fixed between my legs.
“Bad omega,” the High Alpha snarled in my ear a second before reaching between my legs and pinching my clit with his jagged nails.
I damn near jerked off his lap as a cry ripped from my lips. This wasn’t pleasure, it was sheer pain. Tears instantly formed and spilled over, my heart pounding as he refused to let up. The muscles of his forearm were taut and corded as he used all his force to squeeze the tiny nub.
Pain ricocheted from between my legs and through my limbs. My stomach lurched, and I knew I was going to be sick.
“Do not tempt my Shepherds,” the High Alpha added, finally releasing my clit.
It throbbed and my shoulders fell as a sob shook my frame. So much for not crying. But once the first tears had fallen, it was like a dam collapsing.
A thin, reedy sound scraped its way out of my throat. I wasn’t sure what that noise was, or why I sometimes made it when I was super upset, but the High Alpha only laughed.
“Don’t think to sway me with your whine,” he informed me, inserting two fingers back inside my pussy like there was nothing wrong. His other hand lifted to pluck at one of my nipples, and I flinched, expecting pain.
“There, there,” he cooed, licking my tears from my cheek. “I know you are just a simple omega, driven by your need for a knot. I will train you, mate. You will learn that your body is for your master’s pleasure alone.” He leisurely pumped his fingers into me, and after a few moments, brushed against my abused clit.
Fear and pain licked up my spine, curling around my chest and squeezing.
“No,” I moaned, the word breaking free before I could censor it.
Shockingly, he stopped immediately. But I knew it wasn’t because he was actually going to give me a pass.
