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What should feel incredible now feels like I’m losing in the end.
My phone chimes again, displaying a link from Emma. I stare at it suspiciously, knowing that whatever educational videos she supposedly sent will most definitely be porn. If I were a cat, I’d be dead, dead, dead from curiosity. I don’t exactly want to know what my best friend might watch, but if she thinks it’ll help me learn something...
Oh. My. Fucking. Cock. Party.
My phone screams out in pleasure, the omega’s voice echoing through the room as the video starts amid a scene unlike anything of my wildest imagination. Hard cocks point in all directions as four naked alphas hold each of the omega’s limbs, suspending her midair only to have a fifth man bury his face between her legs, causing her to scream in ecstasy again. A sixth man stands over her head, stroking his hard-on, and the omega tips her head back and opens her mouth, begging for him to deep throat her.
I can’t rip my gaze away. Heat blooms between my legs, the sheer raw desire between this pack hotter than I expect.
My nipples pebble, and I run my hand into my bra, touching my sensitive skin, exploring myself as I watch the alphas explore the omega. I imagine what it would feel like to have so much attention and to give in to the needs of someone while they take care of me as well.
I squirm and sit on the bed, scooting back until I rest on the mountain of pillows. The camera shot pans closer, giving me a view of the alphas lowering the omega onto the bed. She reaches out and grabs one of their cocks, gliding her fingers over the length, the shaft glistening with her slick. Again, the shot zooms in, focusing on the omega’s thighs and moving to the apex of her legs. I can’t stop my wandering hand and work it lower into my panties, sliding my finger over my body like I watch the alpha do to the omega as he teases her, preparing her for his tip.
I moan at the same time as the omega screams out, the alpha sliding his cock between her legs, his girth stretching her.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay, Scarlett?” The voice sounds along with several booming thuds to my door, startling me.
I drop my phone off the side of the bed and panic, the video seeming to grow in volume though it’s probably in my head.
The omega screams again, sending my heart racing. Now I wish she would just shut up. Someone needs to stick a cock in her mouth or something, or else I’m going to die of embarrassment.
The door handle jiggles, and I thank the universe that I locked it.
“Scarlett?” the voice calls again. “Scarlett!”
I scramble off the bed, scooping up my phone. “Just a—”
My suite door flings open and clatters against the wall. The familiar man rushes into my room and stops short, his eyes widening at the sight of me clutching my phone, my shirt askew, and showing my bra along with my unbuttoned pants showing off my panties.
Fire explodes across my cheeks. I beg the floor to open up and swallow me whole. My phone continues to scream in bliss, drawing the man’s attention to the porn Emma sent me. This isn’t exactly the impression I wanted to make, especially because I know who this man is.
He’s not only a part of Pack Hart and one of my intended, but he is also my World Lit professor and the star of many of my daydreams. It never even clicked in my head when I saw his name as Jonah Hart. His picture is far more formal than I’ve ever seen him and without his glasses, and now he stands before me, wide eyes and just as red as I surely am with my burning face.
“Ms. Carlisle. I don’t understand. What is going on here? This is...fuck.” Professor Hart turns around, bolting toward the door, but another figure materializes and unintentionally blocks his way.
I smack my finger to my phone, trying to get the video to shut off. The omega and all the alphas moan in unison as one of them knots with her, and I clasp my phone between my palms to muffle the noise, finally getting the bullshit to turn off.
“What is going on, Jonah? I told you to wait until morning to introduce yourself.” Adrian appears behind the other man, and I take a couple steps back, wishing I could disappear into the corner. Why aren’t there any secret passageways? I run my fingers along the wall just to make sure, but nothing happens.
“I thought she was in trouble. I heard screaming.” Professor Hart rubs his hand on the back of his neck. I expect him to call me out about the porn, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t look at me either.
“I’m sorry. I was talking to my best friend, and she sent me something, trying to help with my nerves over...” I wave my hand in silence, my voice refusing to say the words out loud. “I’m sorry. I’m so embarrassed.”
“This is exactly why I was concerned, Adrian. She’s young and shy. We might have nothing in common.” Professor Hart flips his switch, my words kicking away his shock and replacing it with annoyance.
“Ten fewer years isn’t a dealbreaker. Her profile was everything we agreed on. Age is but a number, anyway. I’m thirty-nine going on nineteen.” A deep, husky voice erupts in laughter, and I turn my attention to...oh, no. Kill me now. I wanted to die the first time I crashed into him just as much as I want the floor to open up and devour me. It’s the runner. The man I crashed into and unintentionally unveiled my dirty little secret drawings to.
“It matters when she is one of our students! No aliases were mentioned on her profile, not to mention how she’s unrecognizable from her picture.” Professor Hart roars, his anger booming out.
Whoa. He says it like it’s my fault Mom had the makeup artist practically turn me into someone else.
“Like you look like yours either,” I whisper, my throat scratchy.
Professor Hart whips his attention to me, catching my retort, but he doesn’t get a chance to respond. The runner backhands his shoulder, getting between us.
“Shut the fuck up, Jonah. She’s gorgeous either way. We’re damn lucky to have found her. Your pompous ass isn’t going to ruin it.” The runner shoves Professor Hart.
“Leo, this is unethical for him. He’s in a position of power with her. He can’t be with a student. What if she were in your classes?” I recognize this man, too as he barges into my room, joining one more alpha. Professor Ezra didn’t like being called by a formal name in my Art History class during the spring semester. I wouldn’t expect him to recognize me, considering I sat in the back row of the stadium-style lecture hall, four times as big as Professor Hart’s classroom.
