The guards outside the door must have thought he was murdering her.
Jules had forcibly dressed her in a Beta Sector jumpsuit, pinning her gently to the floor when she’d tried to flee, the Omega shrieking like he was stabbing her to death.
And Jacques himself had used her terror to press in, yanking on her, ravishing her thoughts as she clawed at the Red Room floor, trying to escape the man carefully pulling Beta clothing over her naked body.
“Brenya. Brenya. BRENYA!”
Voice even, effortless, as Jules twisted her into a new alignment, purring loudly, his soothing tone vibrating through each word. “You will be separated from Jacques Bernard by a wall of tungsten steel bars reinforced with a pane of clear amorphous metal. He will not be able to touch you. And I will be there. I will be with you. Because you have to do this, every morning, Brenya. You must. Remember what I told you. You have totry,and now you know why.An Omega cannot be parted from her mates. It’s making you… unbalanced.”
Scrabbling against the floorboards, she was rolled belly down, failing to find leverage on the lacquered wood. A parody of a dance, he bent and so must she. He rotated a limb, and both her legs had been forced into the jumpsuit, Jules able to manipulate her into strange shapes as if it were nothing, as if he had wrestled much larger males and won every time.
Every bruise she earned was of her own making.
He did not use pain. Only skill. Specific, careful force that wore her out and didn’t tire him in the least.
She ripped off the tip of a nail trying to claw into the floor, fighting his hold and failing as he secured another arm through a sleeve, careful not to stress the joint of her repaired shoulder.
The offense of this garment!
And when she tried to take it off, the game was over.
Jules had her spread, knees to her ears, her wrists pinned by her head as he shook his head no.
Unsure what came over her, Brenya leaned up and took the meat where his shoulder met his neck between her teeth and bit down.
With every ounce of her strength.
Hard.
Piercing.
Drawing blood.
Refusing to let go.
“That isn’t very nice, Brenya.” But it was said with a velvet gasp, as if the Beta took great pleasure in the act. And that strange cock of his was growing hard again against her belly.
Which had her seeing red.
Her jaw locked, the Omega snarling against his shoulder as he changed their positions yet again. Pulling her closer, rocking her upper body as he angled his hips away.
“I can’t fuck you right now, sweetheart. We have an appointment. You’ll be sore enough as it is.” All said as the man worked his knees apart and leaned up, bringing her with him. One male foot found the floor, and he lifted her like it was nothing. “But I’ll make it up to you tonight.”
She was never going to have sex with him again. Never!
And she tried to tell him so with a mouthful of his flesh between her teeth. But he reached for where his slacks had been laid out on the bed, stepping into them one leg at a time despite the burden of an Omega taking a handful of his hair and yanking while those little teeth punched deeper.
There wasn’t room in her panic to create words or argue, all her energy going into bucking against his grip. And when Beta hands reached between them, pulled up her zipper, and covered the flesh scented with his semen and her slick, Brenya hyperventilated until she almost fainted.
Her jaw slackened, the taste of his blood on her lips, as she felt a new kind of terror.
Because her life was valuable beyond measure now, and she had acted poorly in the protection of it.
Her heart felt like it might stop.
It must never stop.
Gods, please. Never.
