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“Fuck, Goddess.” It was a quick, brutal orgasm and I watched in almost horror as ropes of cum drained my balls for the second time that morning. I washed my hands in the cooling water I’d used to shave. I finished dressing, an odd need to make it to the dining room to see if Beatrice would be there or if, like the mated omegas, she would be taking breakfast in her bedroom.
When she was mine, she’d be forced to stay in her nest, too exhausted to move. And then Jack and I would return with food and fuck her again.
I couldn’t help humming a tune, for the future looked bright.
Pax
I metmy Vixen on the stairs. “Why don’t you go first?” I bowed.
“No, you.” She crossed her arms in the least ladylike manner. I looked her over, head to toe, for the pure enjoyment of watching her squirm beneath my gaze. Her eyes darted about, landing, however briefly, on everything but me. One day soon I would have her attention, all of it. I’d enjoy the moment she realised she was mine.
“Omegas first.”
She gritted her teeth and began to walk down the stairs, the very tips of her fingers gracing the highly polished bannister. I kept close, resisted the urge to pull at a lock of hair she’d missed when braiding her hair. This omega! She made me act like a greenhorn who had just discovered that omegas smelt like heaven. And a devil, for I’d gain her attention and then fist her hair, whisper in her ear, watch her drop to her knees. A simple experiment to determine just how talented her mouth truly was.
She stopped so abruptly I nearly walked into her. Her shoulders were thrown back and her scent shifted. “Oh, why must you loom over me! Some sort of horrid golem created to drive me to murder. That would have solved my problem. And provide great inspiration for a painting.”
“The looming is nothing but a natural part of being so much taller, my dear.” I stepped around so that we were on the same step. I offered my arm.
She caught her lip between her teeth, shook her head, and carried on down the stairs. I grinned and kept pace with the little firecracker. “I bought a rather pretty German miniature. In fact, I’ve been collecting miniatures recently, if you would like to repeat your rather unusual visiting hours.”
“My lord!”
“Yes, Vixen?”
“You are insufferable. I am not interested. Excuse me, I forgot something in my room.” I watched her turn and go back up the stairs.
“Running away?” I called after her. “I’m disappointed, my dear.”
“Not your dear and not running away, my Lord. I have decided I want to sketch but my charcoals and paper are in my room.”
My heart caught. Once. I’d seen her art once, and could remember each brush stroke. Now she teased me with the fact she would be sketching. What would be her subject? Her family? Perhaps the estate? If she went somewhere secluded, she would need a protector. Would she go and find some subject in the village?
“You are not going to the village.”
“No, my lord. I intend to do studies of Viola and Orley for their marriage portrait. I am… Good day, my lord.”
“Omega,” I barked. She frowned but waited for me to speak. A very satisfying victory. “Do nothing reckless while you are under this roof or there will be consequences.”
“You and your consequences. You’ve no rights over me.”
I bounded up the stairs until I truly did loom over her. “I’m a patient alpha, Miss Hartwell. But I’ll not permit you to put yourself at risk. If you do not follow my edict, then consider how it will reflect on your family.”
“The only person whose rules I must follow are my mate’s,” she spat out. A gasp and she looked around as if afraid someone had heard her. “I… I mean… Goddess, I must go.”
“Dammit.” Her mate! How could I have forgotten about the cretin? Mate. The word tasted bitter in my mouth. She’d be no one’s mate but mine and Jack’s. Jack. Dammit. I grabbed her wrist, not ready to see her leave. “I don’t mean it in such… You are an omega on her own. To wander around the countryside. Where you are not known? The danger is real. My concern for your wellbeing is genuine, without motive… Surely your mate,” I sneered. “A mate would want you safe.”
“How dare you make any reference to something you don’t understand?” Then she spun out of my grasp, nearly falling on the top step in her attempt to get away from me. My morning was already at odds with my plans especially at this unreasonably early hour of nine. In town I’d not be up for at least an hour. I let free a growl of frustration, encouraging it to the point that a beta servant jumped when they passed through the great hall below.
I, who was normally collected, felt at odds with my plans. And why? But that the delicious Beatrice Jane Hartwell must forever be underfoot. That she both encouraged me and repelled me felt neither coquettish nor off-putting. I enjoyed the push and pull. To see how she would brighten and spark hot only for a deeper heat to be there, banked against the frostiness of her disdain. Disdain that bordered on shallow. As if she fought harder and harder to find a point on which to argue.
Not being at breakfast, I was at a loss for what to do. Orley didn’t provide much beyond toast and fruit, which did not suit my taste, so after a cup of hot black coffee I left him and Mrs Hartwell to their own devices. Unable to locate Jack, I wandered the halls staring blindly at paintings, becoming increasingly frustrated with both the omega and alpha that were by rights mine. How long would I have to kick my heels waiting for them to realise the obvious? Too long for my taste.
A trip to the stables produced even less relief, for by eleven the sun had near reached the zenith, and I’d no interest in taking a hack out for a sedate ride through fields. It was another blistering hot day, and any plans to bully Beatrice into joining me on a carriage ride, to see how far I could push her into a bundle of offended dignity, were dismissed. I’d not take my omega with her fair skin and red hair out in this heat. I’d not take my horses neither.
I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to quiet the part of me that was wholly baffled by how to proceed with her. There was no doubt she enjoyed the game we played. That at every turning she sparkled like a diamond caught in daylight. A delight for all my senses in turn. But with each sally she eluded me. Danced out of reach, teasing but never still enough to catch. It infuriated as it enticed. Perhaps I should drag her into an empty room and take a similarly direct approach as I had that afternoon when she had rejected my proposal. Then, I had been sure that it was fear holding her back. A risible fear of losing her independence. But on learning she had a mate, perhaps the reasons were altogether different. Loyalty? I hated to think she would stay a spinster out of loyalty for an alpha who was no longer by her side. One who’d abandoned her. Left her to cultivate her wild and reckless ways… Though from what Jack had said her wildness was inborn rather than acquired. These thrice damned Hartwells. The world would be well rid of them. A more dull and boring place perhaps, but certainly safer for alphas. However, it seemed that Viola had calmed since wedding Orley. I hoped Beatrice would be the same. A shame to lose all her spark, but better for it to burn safe and bright in mine and Jack’s care than left to winds of fortune.
Once again the world intruded. The sound of crunching gravel had me lifting my head.
