Her cheeks still pink, she nods. “A little.”
Right. There’s only so much I can do to keep it at bay. It will probably get worse before it gets better.
Selene extends her arms to me, her expression vulnerable, so I slide up the bed to lie at her side. She wraps her arms around me, burying her face in the hollow of my throat.
“Thank you,” she whispers, squeezing me.
I lean down to nuzzle her hair.
“Always,” I say, knowing it’s a lie.
8
SELENE
The itch abates—for now. But each time Harry has “assisted” me, it’s come back worse. Meaner. Stronger.
I need something more. It felt incredible, what he did, but just his fingers are not enough.
Only for a moment did I catch sight of his, erm,memberonce he tucked himself back into his pants. That, I think, would do the trick. If he slid that thing inside me, I’d be fixed.
But wouldn’t he have done it already if he wanted that? He’s merely helping me, sacrificing his own wants to make sure I get through this. I know I’m taking advantage of him and his earnest heart, his good nature. He came to my aid when I escaped Father’s house, and he’s doing the same now without any concern for himself.
This knowledge haunts me as Harry departs the house, telling me he’s requesting the day off. I know he hasn’tslept much, and I’m wracked with guilt that he’ll be missing a day of work because of my heat.
It’s days like today that I wish I weren’tme. That I had never been born an omega, so that none of this would have happened.
I’m feeling fragile when Harry returns an hour later, telling me his captain granted the request and so he’s going to go into town for supplies. I don’t know what sort of supplies he means, but he gives me one last long, lingering look before he departs with Sadie, leaving me alone for the afternoon.
Only an hour or two of peace goes by before that itch comes back. I frantically rub myself, wishing it would help, that anything could take away this paralyzing need.
Then the front door opens, and I push my nightgown back down. It’s Harry, and he’s carrying two bags as he walks inside. He smiles when he peeks into the bedroom.
“I have some things.”
I don’t know what sort of things he means until he produces a beautiful sheepskin blanket, which he carries over and deposits in my nest.
“Perhaps this will help?” he says hopefully.
If I didn’t already feel like I was going to cry, this does the trick. It’s so thoughtful, so lovely and probably expensive that tears burst free, sliding in great rivers down my cheeks. Harry’s mouth falls open.
“Are you alright?” he asks, leaning down to get a closer look.
“You didn’t have to do this for me.” I clutch the blanket tight against me, reveling in the softness of it. It’s exactly what my nest needed. “How did you know?”
His smile returns. “It was just a guess.”
Then he turns around and leaves me with the blanket as I arrange it in the right place. This time, when he comes back, Harry is holding something behind his back.
“I didn’t know… if maybe…” He clears his throat. “This might do the trick?”
I tilt my head, wondering what he’s got that he’s afraid to show me. Eventually, though, he brings one arm out in front of him to display the object he’s carrying.
I blink at it, not sure what I’m seeing. It looks like a penis, with a thick bulb at the base, but blown from clear and blue glass.
But why is it here? Why has he brought it to me?
“I thought I would, erm, put it inside you,” Harry says awkwardly. “And maybe it will be what you need.”
