Page 31 of Desperate Omega

“Oh Source,” Markus groans suddenly as his eyes roll back in his head. “Oh Source…”

Yup, he feels it.

“You relax too, boy,” Thorus says over my shoulder. “We need both of you good and relaxed if we’re going to get this knot untied.”

The purring moves lower, into my vagina, and it feels as if the vibrations are coming from the very center of Markus’s hard knot. I come almost instantly, but it is not the sudden climax I experienced earlier when I was riding Markus in the mausoleum. This is a slow burn that gradually spreads and permeates every fiber of my being until it feels like pure pleasure is seeping out of my pores, leaking from my eyes, spilling down my cheeks in warm rivulets. It probably lasts for less than a minute, but it seems to go on forever, until it feels like I will die from coming.

“Please,” I whimper. “Please, Thorus… I can’t take any more.”

“Shhh. You’re doing such a good job, Syra. Just hang on a little longer.”

The alpha’s words of praise give me the fuel I need to endure. I surrender myself completely to the sensations of pleasure happening down between my legs, and all through the rest of my body as well.

So does Markus. He’s already come inside me three times this morning, twice in the mausoleum, and once more while we were running from the Farlanders. Now he does it again, and the surge of fluid that comes spurting out of him feels as big as his previous three releases combined. It’s as if Thorus is milking Markus with his voice, using the vibrations of his purring to wring every last drop of semen from the young alpha’s balls.

And every last drop of pleasure from my own body.

Finally, just as the ecstasy is becoming too much to bear, I feel something let go inside me. Every muscle in my body seems to relax in unison. My sex doesn’t just loosen its deathgrip on Markus’s cock—it gapes.

At the same instant, Markus’s knot shrinks, and his cock slides out of me, chased by a gush of shameful proportions, a waterfall of pale cream that pours out of me and puddles on the ground between my open legs.

“Holy Source!” says a voice from somewhere nearby.

The other young alpha, the one named Brik, is staring in wide-eyed amazement at the sheer amount of semen that just came flowing out of me. My head feels like it might explode from the amount of blood and heat that is suddenly rushing into my face. I’ve never been so mortified in all my life.

“Quiet, Brik,” Thorus snaps at his companion. “Make yourself useful and give Markus a hand up.”

Brik complies, though he’s clearly reluctant about it. As he helps Markus to his feet, the two young alphas eye each other warily.

It is Thorus who helps me to my own feet. I manage to stand up, but my legs feel a bit wobbly after everything Thorus just did to me, and everything I did to Markus before that. It’s been an eventful morning, to say the least. I look around at the dead and dismembered Farlanders scattered around us.

“Source,” I whisper.

“Indeed,” says Thorus, in his deep rumbling baritone. “It is time for us to leave this place.”

“Wait!” I cry, covering my breasts and genitals with my hands. I suppose it’s a little silly to do that, considering that all three of these alphas have already seen everything my body has to offer. Still, I’m not used to being naked around males like this, and I’m eager to hide the private parts of my body from their eyes. “My clothes are in the mausoleum—”

“And that’s where they’re going to stay,” Thorus says.

“But—”

“No buts,” Thorus growls. “We’re not going back inside that cursed place. This cemetery is the realm of the dead ancestors, and we’ve already disturbed them enough with our intrusion. I’m still not clear on what the two of you were doing here to begin with, but we can delay that discussion until we are someplace safe.”

“The Central Ruins?” I ask fearfully.

“In your state? Not a chance. You’re still in heat, omega, and you will be for some time. I wouldn’t dare take you back there and leave you to the mercy of all those alphas.”

That answer brings me relief, but only a little.

“Where then?” I ask.

“Brik and I have a hideout we sometimes use when we need to rest. It is not far from here. If we hurry, we can reach it by this afternoon.” He glances over at his companion. “Brik will carry you.”

Before I have a chance to refuse the offer, I am lifted off the ground and slung over the young alpha’s shoulder like some prey he is bringing home from a hunting trip.

“Hey!” I shout, “Put me down! I don’t need to be carried.”

My protest is answered with a sharp smack to my backside, which is shamefully exposed and bent over Brik’s muscular shoulder. At first, I think Brik is the one who smacked me, but I quickly realize it was Thorus. The older alpha moves around behind his sidekick so he can look me in the eye. The gentle caretaker has transformed into a stern disciplinarian.