Omega after omega found their happily ever after, but not me.They planned lavish weddings with rich Alphas who took care of their every need, but not me.They did brunch, shopped, lived a life of ease, but not fucking me.Why not fucking me?What did I do that was so cosmically wrong that I can’t get my own happy ending?
“I feel you, little omega,” he whispers across the crown of my head as he shifts his fingers ever so slightly to unhook my bra with very little resistance.“I feel the pain and turmoil.You’ve carried these burdens far too long.But don’t worry.You won’t be able to think about a damn thing while I have my way with you.”
With a quick yank, he pulls the practical bit of white cotton off my body, exposing my breasts to his hungry gaze.Instead of simply folding it or tossing it aside, he locks his gaze with mine as he finds the weak point in the fabric and tears.That horrid sound floods my ears as everything in me threatens to collapse.
“You won’t be needing this.”
More bits of cotton litter the floor moments before he drops the rest of it and pushes me back.The instant my thighs hit the bed, he stoops down and hooks his arms under my knees and pushes me onto the mattress as he spreads me out in one fell swoop.
With my legs splayed out like they are, I can’t hide the arousal from him.I can’t pretend he doesn’t have any effect on me.It’s there in all its slicked up messy arousal, staining the gusset of my underwear, which I’m sure will be the next thing to suffer the wrath of his strong hands and even stronger opinions.
“No one should own anything this plain and horrid.Not someone as pretty as you,” he grumbles as he slides them over my knees and whips them off my feet.
Again, I’m forced to watch as he looks for some miniscule hole, some weakness, before tearing them apart.This time, I do look away, but he’s soon over me, smothering me with his heat as he pulls my chin back to look at him.
“Oh no,” he chuckles.“I want you to see this destruction.I want you to watch me as I rip everything from you.Because, trust me.This is the least damaging thing that could have happened to you today.Before you leave, you will learn that your actions have consequences.”
Chapter9
Jason
The tearsin her eyes scream at me.They beg me to stop, to smother her with gentle words and soft kisses until the pain and anguish go away.But I can’t.Deep down, I know I can’t.
Even now, she still doesn’t seem to understand just how reckless her actions were.Just recalling a third of that list has my cock surging with need and my heart pounding in fear.So many things I would want to do.So many things an unethical Alphawoulddo.
Her lower lip quivers as I straddle her slim hips and stare down into her eyes.So many emotions flash through them—need, longing, anger, sorrow.Given what I’ve seen in her financial records, it makes sense.She’s had to hold so much on such small shoulders.
Anger flares through me as I take in her vulnerability.Why isn’t anyone taking care of her?Why isn’t anyone making sure she’s okay, that she’s eating, that she has better clothes than these rags?
Why aren’t I?
That question hits even harder than anything else.
Why am I not taking her in hand right now, claiming her as mine to make sure she’s okay?Why am I not forcing her to let me help?Why isn’t anyone taking care of her?
As I continue to watch the play of emotions on her face, the questions keep coming and don’t stop.They pummel my brain in an endless refrain that has me questioning my very sanity.
Why?
It would be so fucking easy to take her.What the fuck is holding me back?
She wants me.I can see it on her face.I can smell it in her arousal.
She doesn’t know what she wants.She doesn’t understand what she needs.She doesn’t have a fucking clue what it is to submit to someone like me, someone with darker appetites and a relentless hunger.
She can’t possibly understand.
That’s it.That’s everything in one dumb little nutshell.It was different when I thought I was about to rut someone who wanted this, who wanted my brand of deviant love.She only wants a payday.She wants a way out of her mess, her situation.
She doesn’t want me.
It doesn’t matter if her eyes and body beg for me; her heart isn’t in it.Her soul isn’t mine to capture or to keep.
Clinical.
Routine.
Detached.
