“Mmmm. Such a good girl,” he praises me. I can hear the sharp sound of scissors removing offending alpha digits, yet I’m lost in Abbott’s eyes, too caught up in his words and how aroused the sound of torture is making me.
I may not want to see it, but it’s definitely doing something to me. I can feel Bellamy’s amusement and arousal, and know his ass is clamping down on nothing, sad and empty while Abbott pleasures me.
One day, baby,he whispers in my mind, and just the thought of it makes me come with a scream.
“Fuck yes. Get it, baby,” Shiloh groans.
“You’re strangling my fingers so well, Winter. Goddamn, I haven’t come in my pants in forever but….Oh God,” Abbott gasps, his hand releasing my hair to grab my ass instead.
Holding me tightly as he finger fucks me through the aftershocks of my orgasm, he buries his face in my throat as he shudders. My fingers massage his scalp, somehow knowing he’s blowing his load in his pants.
We’re both breathing hard as we hold each other tightly, the smell of fire and smoke beginning to fill the air.
“Oops!” Ansel says, making Abbott huff out a laugh under his breath.
“Looks like this is all mine then,” he says, lifting his head as he pulls his fingers from my pussy.
I wince because he has big fucking fingers, long enough to hit the best parts of me, yet somehow I immediately miss them.
Abbott shoves his slick drenched digits in his mouth, the whites of his eyes showing as he seeks every drop of my release.
“Wow,” I whisper, wishing I had more now.
His fingers pop out of his mouth as he sees me squirm, and he smiles gently at me.
“We have to relocate. The knuckleheads behind me need to air out this side of the basement,” he says. “Do you want a photowhen Clyde is dead? I need a shower since I currently have a load of cum in my pants. I skipped the boxers, so…”
“Is it running down your leg?” I ask, realizing what just happened. My cheeks heat as I realize I did that, and the group behind us laughs.
“I mean, to be fair, I probably would have come in my pants too,” Ansel says. “Note to self for the list makers of the pack: wear boxers for the near future.”
“I made it on a list,” I giggle, feeling happy and loose as I kiss Abbott on his lips.
“That you did,” he says, his legs already crossing the room. “Remember to take the photo!”
“Yes, boss!” The group choruses, including Bellamy.
“Want to nap on the pack bed while I shower?” Abbott asks. “I need to make a few calls to have this joker picked up once he kicks the bucket, but I can cuddle.”
My lids feel heavy as I nod, and I lay my head on his shoulder. Abbott fixes my panties discreetly before moving his hands to support me better.
“We won’t let bad things happen anymore, baby,” Abbott whispers. “If they do, we promise to burn the world down until they stop. Crossing us and our omegas is a death sentence.”
As he walks up the inner staircase to the main floor, I believe him. There aren’t any holds barred here, nor do they believe in allowing the police to “fix it.”
Clara used to laugh whenever someone used to bring up law enforcement. No, she’s not afraid of them, but she is afraid of the Minnesota mafia we left behind.
Clara isn’t going to be ready when Shiloh finds her, and I have a feeling that Clyde’s death will barely be a blip on the fucked up shit Pack Tremaine is capable of.
Chapter
Thirteen
ANSEL
“Now that they’re gone,I can worry less about the smoke,” I muse. “Bellamy grab the smoke mask or I’ll have to send you up too.”
“Smoke…Do you do this a lot?” he asks, walking with Cassidy to wash his hands while she grabs the respirator gas mask.
