Page 5 of A Murderous Omega

She lay over me, her thighs straddling me, breasts pressing into my chest, and need wafting off her. I still held her close, and the whiff of her arousal had me ready to rut her right there on the goddess damned asphalt.

She ground her hips, and my own jerked in response. The whine that escaped her lips undid me, and I rolled us to capture her beneath me, holding my hand beneath her head so it wouldn’t slam into the ground.

“Mine,” I growled, and she didn’t dispute my verbal claim. Each roll of her hips, each squirm, drove my cock harder against her center. I yanked her arms above her head, holding them with one hand, and wrapped the other around her throat.

“Look at you,” I breathed. “Look how fucking fierce you are. You’re so fucking beautiful in your resistance.”

Lark’s eyes were wide and obsidian and so dark with need, I couldn’t resist. I dragged my lips against hers, once, twice, then again, before licking at the seam, commanding her to let me in.

When she pressed her lips closer together, I squeezed her throat.

She perfumed.

Oh goddess, our sweet little omega perfumed when I limited her air supply. What else might turn on our violent delight?

I stroked her jaw with my thumb, her scent short-circuiting my thoughts. Her lips parted, and I devoured her, tasting every corner of her mouth, desperate to possess her, to leave my mark on her, if only psychologically. When she finally responded, stroking my tongue against hers, I rocked my hips again, rubbing my cock against her center.

Lark moaned and arched her back, thrusting her breasts up into my chest. Her legs fell open, and her perfume flooded my senses.

She whined, that gorgeous, sweet sound omegas made when they needed their alphas, and I released her wrists to push myself up and palm her breast. Her nipple pebbled against my hand through the layers of fabric, tight and hard and begging for me to bend down and wrap my lips around it.

Tentatively, slowly, as if she were terrified, she brought her hands to my shoulders, then slid one up into my hair, her fingers scratching into my scalp.

Fuck, she was delicious. So sweet and soft and⁠—

She yanked my head back, using her other hand to jab her stiff fingers up into my neck. I released her, gagging and gasping for air.

Breathing hard, her pupils blown with lust, she used my shock to scramble out from underneath me and to her feet.

I couldn’t wipe the wild grin off my face—our omega was a fucking treasure. Rasping, the breath knocked out of me, I lumbered to my feet as she dashed out of the alley and down the sidewalk, only for her to run smack dab into Conor, who enveloped her in his embrace, purring until she melted against him.

His blue eyes flicked to mine, before returning to the omega he was calming with his scent and purr.

“She likes the hunt,” I said. “You don’t need to do that.”

He hummed, then turned Lark in his arms. “Is that true, sweet girl? Are you a slut for your alphas already, and I don’t need to use my purr to calm you down?”

She whined again, arching against him, and I stepped up to her back, surrounding her with our scents. “I think she likes the pursuit. Isn’t that right, little one?”

Lark shook her head, as if trying to escape the fog of our hormones. “Let me go,” she cried weakly, even as she ground her ass into my cock.

Conor tangled his fingers in her hair, dragging her gaze up to his. He ran his nose from her shoulder to her neck. “Such a sweet morsel, a serial killer who’s evaded the law for years, over a dozen kills. You’re magnificent.”

Lark froze, the glaze of lust leaving her eyes. “What do you want?” she whispered.

“We’re monsters, same as you,” Conor said against the side of her neck, right under her jawline, gently scratching at her scent gland with his teeth. “And we want you.”

The violent tremble that shook her wasn’t lust, it was fear. Lark might be turned on, but she was terrified, and where was the fun in that? I wanted to hurt her, over and over and over, but scaring her off wouldn’t get her bouncing on my cock any quicker.

“Let’s play a game,” I said, brushing my fingers down her torso, reveling in how her muscles tightened under my touch. “We’re going to give you a five-second head start. If you escape, you’re free. You can take the extra dose of suppressant I know you’ve got in your back pocket and disappear. And if we catch you⁠—”

She scoffed. “Why do I have to bargain for my freedom?”

“If we catch you,” I continued as though she hadn’t interrupted, “we’ll do what we were going to do anyway.”

“Which is?”

I cupped her breasts, seeking her nipples through the layers of clothes and tweaking them hard. The sweet scent of lilac and vanilla flooded out of her. “Exactly what you want,” I whispered into her ear, noting the shiver of desire that worked its way down her spine. “Fuck you until you can’t remember your name.”