We’ve reached my bed. Khan mentioned his Omega having a fondness for cushions, so I had dozens of them brought to me, and tried to arrange them in a manner my Omega would find pleasing.
“If I put you down, will you try to run again?” I ask.
“Yes.”
Ulf, I don’t think I’ve ever been this frustrated. Every last shred of self-control I was taught in the army is being tested to the limit by this little scrap of a female. “Very well.”
Still clutching her to my chest, I lower myself until we’re lying on our sides. She is no longer kicking, but she is rigid against me.
Another wave of her honeyed fragrance washes over me. I nuzzle her cheeks, some deep instinct compelling me to mark her with my own scent. A cloud of her perfume rises, mingling with my Alpha musk. It smells good. It smells right.
My canines ache to sink into the fragile junction of her shoulder and neck, to make my mark more permanent. I did not give serious thought to whether or not I would mark my Omega, gift her with the soul bond. But in this moment, it is all I want.
Patience. Let me see whether or not my Omega will please me. She must earn my mark.
There’s a brief silence, while I fight my instinct to tear her gown off her shoulders and rut her into oblivion—and while she’s presumably debating her chances of successfully fighting me off, and getting away.
If she has any more sense than a rock, she will soon realize that those chances are nil.
“What’s with all the cushions?” she says after a time.
For a second, I’m so taken aback by the question that I stop growling. Then I realize her obvious motive for asking such a strange, insignificant thing. “Do you really believe you can distract an Alpha in rut?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what that is!” Her voice is rising. It is at that moment that I scent something other than desire and defiance in her sweet musk: fear.
I was a fool not to have noticed it before. She was merelypretendingto be brave.
How adorable.
And now, I want to comfort her. I rub my cheek over her head, scent-marking her again. My scent will soothe her. So will my purring growl.
“What’s happening to me?” There is a plaintive note in her question which tugs strangely in my chest. “Why am I…” she trails off.
I squeeze her more tightly against me, my cock pressed tantalizingly against her pert little ass. She remains silent. A moment later, I command, “Finish the sentence, little Omega.”
I can almost feel her inner battle. Eventually, she mutters, “Wet. I don’t understand why I’m so… wet.”
I could explain it to her, but I’d rather show her. So I slide one hand down, over her searing hot skin, to the apex of her thighs, cupping her over the flimsy fabric of her gown.
Then I resume growling.
She gives a whole-body shudder against me, and when I begin to move my palm slowly, rubbing her sex through the material, she lets out a moan. My cock throbs in response. I pause for a moment, and breathe. If I don’t regain control, her little sighing sounds will be my undoing.
Slowly, her legs part to allow my hand better access.
I want to roar, beat my chest, pound her through the bed. Instead, I draw the hem of her gown up to expose her cunt so I can explore it.
* * *
Kim
What the fuck is happening?
A minute ago, I was over this gaudy palace. I’m supposed to be planning my escape. But now, when I try to concentrate on getting away, it’s like my body has other ideas.
Flames lick along my skin, incinerating me from the inside out. Aurus’s growls rumble through me, caressing my skin and rearranging my insides. The sound is as potent as a touch. Needy pressure builds in my core. That delicious, sinful scent is getting stronger, surrounding me, and the lust gripping me is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.
I’ve been starving; I’ve been so thirsty I could hardly think straight; I’ve been so exhausted I almost fell asleep standing up, but never have I ever neededanythinglike I need him inside me.
