Page 93 of Feral Omega

"I can't," I whimper, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. "It's too much, I?—"

"You can," Plague growls, curling his fingers inside me. "And you will. Come for me, Ivy. Now."

His command shatters the last of my restraint. I cry out, back arching off the bed as my orgasm crashes over me in a tidal wave of white-hot ecstasy. My inner walls clench around his fingers, milking them as wave after wave of utter bliss rocks through me.

Plague works me through it, drawing out every last tremor until I'm limp and gasping beneath him. Only after he coaxes me back down does he withdraw his fingers, bringing them to his lips to lick them clean with a low growl of appreciation.

He leans over me and his lips ghost over mine, butterfly-soft and somehow more intimate than anything else he's done to me so far. I taste myself on his mouth, slightly musky and sweet.

"That's my good girl," he murmurs against the corner of my mouth, the rough pad of his thumb brushing away the damp tendrils of hair clinging to my flushed cheeks. "Just breathe."

I do, gulping down ragged breaths as the fire inside me finally banks to a low, smoldering ember. The ache is still there, that delicious tension humming through my core, but it's less torturous.

At least for a moment.

I'm still struggling to catch my breath when the heat starts to rise again, and while his ministrations took the edge off…

It's not enough.

Chapter

Thirty-Five

VALEK

Ijolt awake on the couch in the common room, snapped out of my sleep as usual by raised voices coming from down the hallway. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I take stock of my surroundings. The others must have returned from sweeping the grounds while I was resting to recover from the head injury our little psycho gave me.

Speaking of which...

My nostrils flare as a rich, heady scent hits me. Vanilla and honeysuckle laced with the unmistakable musk of omega arousal. My cock twitches in my fatigues, hunger licking along my nerves like tendrils of flame. I know that intoxicating bouquet all too well, although I've never encountered a flavor quite this alluring before.

Ivy's in heat.

Plague emerges from the hallway, his usual cold composure somewhat disheveled. He smells of her, of slick feminine musk and fevered pheromones. White-hot rage surges through me at the realization.

I'm on my feet in an instant, grabbing Plague by the front of his shirt and slamming him back against the wall with a snarl. "You fucking touched her?"

He meets my fury with unruffled calm. "She was in agony. I merely took the edge off at her request."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's all you did," I sneer, giving him a vicious shake. "You sneaky little shi?—"

"That's enough!"

The bark of alpha command cuts me off as Thane appears, Whiskey hulking beside him with bloodied fists clenched. Thane hauls me off Plague with brutal force, only to slam Plague back against the opposite wall.

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't gut you right now," he snarls, forearm braced against the medic's throat as Plague struggles against his unbreakable grip.

Plague gives a sniff of disdain. "Because I don't need you to believe me," he says evenly. "You can ask Ivy yourself."

Thane's jaw ticks, fingers tightening fractionally against his windpipe. For a moment it looks like he's going to snap, to give in to that fury and put him down like a rabid dog.

But then, slowly, he releases Plague with a grunt of disgust and steps back.

"Don't think this is over," he warns Plague with a look that could cut glass. "You pull another stunt like that without clearing it with the rest of us first, and you're out. No second chances."

Whiskey scoffs, his mouth twisting in a sneer. "So, what, he gets special perks now since he's the doc?"

"He doesn't," Thane growls, rounding on the other alpha. "But we've got bigger problems right now than squabbling between each other."

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