Page 81 of Desperate Omega

I’m so thirsty, so hungry, so hot.

My skin is blazing. It feels like I’m lying outside in the summer sun rather than shivering in the gloomy shadows of an abandoned prison. My nipples are so swollen with arousal it feels as if they might explode at any moment. I can practically hear the slick seeping out from between my legs.

Without meaning to, I let my head loll to one side, and suddenly I’m looking at the back of the cell.

I’m looking at Brik.

Ever since this game began, I’ve been making a point not to look at him for fear it would push me over the edge. One careless moment is all it takes, and my fears are confirmed.

Brik’s body, like mine, is glossy with sweat. His skin glistens like oiled bronze in the sunlight coming in through the small window. His muscles are hard with tension, his veins are throbbing and thick. And down between his legs, the long, hard shaft of his cock is jutting like a pillar, dripping precum and trembling with his pulse. The sheer sight of it makes me moan with desire.

“Syra,” he growls, his voice filled with warning.

It is the first time he has spoken to me since this awful game began. He didn’t want to draw my attention because he knew it would only add fuel to the fire of my heat.

He was right.

The sound of his voice washes over me and through me, smooth and deep, sending tingles of desire racing across my skin. I remember the first time he and I were alone together in the cave, and it was so dark I couldn’t even see him, but I could hear his voice, I could smell his scent, and I could feel his hard, smooth body pressing against mine. I remember how he made me come so hard with his fingers, and later with his cock. I remember how he knotted me, how he pumped me full of his hot, sticky seed.

I want him to do that to me again. I want him to put an end to my suffering. I want him inside me, and I want it right now.

But I can’t touch him.

If I do, Thorus will die.

I close my eyes, and try to think of something else, anything else, but the image of Brik’s majestic body remains etched in my mind’s eye. I see every detail of his perfect cock and his smooth, heavy balls. I see his knot expanding around the base of his shaft. I see long ropes of semen jetting from his tip, and I imagine lying back on the floor in front of him, letting his warm seed shower my face and fall into my gaping mouth.

“Please,” I murmur weakly. “Please…”

The words are directed toward Markus, wherever he is. Maybe our mate-bond will let him feel the urgency of my plea. I know he’s coming as fast as he can, but I need him to come faster. My sanity is hanging by a thread here.

“Please…”

Somewhere nearby, Delphine giggles. She can hear me begging, and she probably thinks the words are intended for her.

“There’s no point in begging,” she says. “Everything you need is right there in that cell with you. Just crawl over there like the little slut you are, and take that alpha’s fat cock inside you. That’s all you have to do to end this.”

“No!” I snarl.

“No? Are you sure? Your lips are saying one thing, Syra, but your body is sending a very different message. Look.”

When I open my eyes again, I am no longer lying on my back near the front of the cell. I’m on my hands and knees, and I’m crawling toward Brik.

Source, what am I doing? I can’t touch Brik! They’ll kill Thorus if I do…

I try to stop myself, but my body betrays me. I cannot control my arms and legs. It’s as if an evil spirit has taken possession of me, and it is forcing me to crawl toward the alpha at the back of the cell.

No, not an evil spirit.

My heat.

“Syra!” Brik says. “Stop!”

“I can’t!” I cry. “I’m trying, but I can’t!”

Hot tears fill my eyes and pour down my cheeks. A lump tightens my throat. Sobs rack my body.

And I continue crawling to Brik.