Or worse—what if he already knows I’m broken?
What if he can smell it on me?
What if hefeltit when he touched me?
What if he already regrets taking me?
I lower my eyes again, throat tight, hands curling into fists on my knees. I should feel relieved. Any sane omega would be grateful not to be fucked by a stranger. But I don’t think I could handle being rejected again.
This time it might actually kill me.
I have to make this work.
In The Tent
Knox
I’m in hell.
Instinct is beating hard at my chest, urging me to stake my claim on this omega’s fragile, tempting body. In fact, it takes everything in me not to part her pretty thighs, and bury myself until her body goes limp with pleasure…but she’s so obviously drugged out of her mind.
While I’ve had a few lovers in the past who’d had maybe one too many drinks, I’ve never fucked someone so out of it. It feels…wrong? Maybe that’s not the right word, but this doesn’t sit right with me…even if rutting an omega is the best way to pull the poor creatures out of distress.
And Skyla is definitely distressed.
Her scent is floral and intoxicating, but it’s also filled with a sharp, chemical edge. And the bitter sting from the drugs pumping through her veins is only amplified by her fear. It coils in the back of my throat, souring my lust with something like guilt.
I think I’d feel better if she said something.Anything.
But she’s sitting there, wide-eyed and soft-limbed, with her perky tits pointed right at me. She has dark nipples and plush thighs that look so soft. Her waist is trim, but her hips have the kind of curve to them that makes a man want to hold on for dear life while he loses his mind.
Fuck, I want so badly to dig my fingers into her plush flesh and suck her little tits into my mouth.
But I can’t get past the look on her face.
It’s like someone turned the dial down on her senses. Her pupils are blown and her lips are slightly parted, like she’s about to say something, but nothing comes out.
“Skyla?” I whisper her name. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Um…yeah.” Her voice is soft. Very feminine. “Are you…” She blinks, but it’s delayed, like her brain is lagging a few seconds behind her body.
This girl is so fucking doped up.
Conflicted as all hell, I shift a little closer to the entrance to the tent, dragging a hand through my hair. Her eyes follow me, slow and glassy. There’s something hollow behind them, telling me she’sherebut not really.
It’s unnerving.
“I..uh…” She scoots a little closer. Only a few inches. But as she moves, her bare thighs part enough to give me a glimpse of the soft curve of her pussy. She’s wet, her body already reacting to my simple presence.
Fuck me.
This is it. This is what hell would be like—a pretty and primed omega, too out of it to actually enjoy.
“I’m sure you’re tired,” I say despite the rush of desire pounding at the back of my skull. “Would you like to lie down?”
I know it’s stupid—any other alpha would be buried teninches deep right now—but this is my future mate. I feel like I should take things slow.
Right?
