Seeking help from the Omega Rights Division was an option. They would have given me asylum and some aid. But Darius Bourne, that bastard, his nephew was the director of the ORD, and all documentation was processed by his desk. If I went to the ORD, I would be giving myself up with a little bow on top.
And so I found myself at the hands of three sexy Alphas Ishouldn’twant. I was unable to help how utterly intoxicated they made me. My lack of control felt like my punishment.
My mom drove it home to me just how toxic Alphas could be. She would know after being a reformed Alpha-Chaser. The type of woman who did anything and everything, from leaving their families, friends, jobs, anything really, all in an effort to be with an Alpha. And by-fucking-God, they took advantage of it.
That was how she ended up abandoned and with me.
She’d sought asylum in the U.S., fleeing the sperm donor and leaving him behind in Mexico.
Yet, here I was, weak for them, the exact type of Omega I’d been warned about since I could remember.
I didn’t turn around at the creak of the door.
Shortly after, footsteps approached, paper rustled from beside me, then a thud. I finally looked over to a paper bag sitting beside me.
Kyan was already walking to the bathroom, a duffel in hand.
I grabbed the bag and rifled inside to find a black sleepwear set and matching sandals. There was also hair bleach, developer, and toner, complete with the little mixing bowl. But no color, meaning I’d have to go blond. I set the items down to grab the clothes again.
They still had the tags on. He hadn’t gotten me any panties, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. The shower turned on, and I hopped to my feet, letting the towel drop on the ground to drag the clothes on. Once I had the shorts on, I sat on the floor and began to do up the front of the shirt. I left the first three buttons undone so my cleavage was on display.
I just want to test something out.
I didn’t have to wait long for the water to shut off. He walked out, and all my plans evaporated.
He wore low-hanging trousers that hadn’t been buttoned, and they were open to let me see the strip of hair leading into the pants, and my mouth salivated. Slick began to accumulate between my legs.
I shook my head to try to snap out of it. This wasn’t the plan.
Digging my fingernails into my palm was the only way I was able to rip myself out of the lust-filled fog.
I climbed to my feet, too focused on the divots indenting his stomach. He was lean, compact, with the muscle of an Olympic swimmer.
He dragged a hand towel over his damp hair, mussing it up. My clitliterallypulsed, and my steps faltered. Kyan seemed preoccupied, lost in his mind, his eyebrows furrowed. Like this, with his muscled body, the glint of the piercing in his brow, and his naturally golden skin, he looked like a fantasy.
“Kyan,” I croaked, my voice huskier than I meant.
His head whipped toward me, his intense, dark eyes only forcing me to slick more. I licked my lips, and he cocked his head, gliding closer. His careful, sinewy movements reminded me of a feline.
A droplet of water fell onto his chest and began a slow, seductive path down his torso.
“Hello?”
I ripped my attention back to him, away from gawking at his body. I brought my feet together to clamp my legs closed. Based on his expression, he’d already tried to get my attention while I’d been gawking like a sex-starved idiot.
Kyan leisurely prowled toward me.
He inhaled audibly, and his eyelids drooped, covering half his irises. The bulge straining his zipper became more pronounced.
Fuck it.
I hooked my finger into the waistband of his jeans. His skin ran hot. Another wave of slick trickled free, traveling down my thigh.
My new clothes Kyan brought me, I was going to ruin them . . .
The thought trailed off because Kyan was coming closer and closer, while I stumbled backward until my ass pressed against the side of the couch. He slapped his palms on the leather, and a loud slap rang out.
He didn’t say anything, keeping hold of my gaze as his large hand cupped the side of my hip, his fingertips seeking my skin under the shirt, but he didn’t move upward; instead, sliding his hand into my shorts. He tugged them, leaving me bare from the waist down.
