Page 16 of Excess

Incoming video call: Mama

I slumped for a moment before straightening my posture and accepting the call, setting my phone on the magnetic mount so I had a good angle.

“Oh, there you are, Inika.” Mama was already wringing her hands, her phone sat on the coffee table in the drawing room, angled up under her chin. “I just spoke to Graeme. I was so worried you wouldn’t answer the phone, Inie.”

I wouldn’t have answered if you’d called after three.

“Graeme says there is an unmated alpha in your house,” she added in a scandalised whisper.

“Mama, I’m completely fine. Graeme is worrying over nothing.”

“An unmated alpha, Inika!” she whisper-shouted, peering down at the camera with wide eyes. “Even if he is a nice, respectful man—Graeme offered me no reassurance on this front—it isn’t a good look, Inie, for you to stay there alone.”

“I’m never alone. I have an entire retinue of staff, Mama.”

“Why would you even want to stay in the house while it’s having work done? The dust!” She tutted impatiently. “Nonsense. Come stay here, Inie. You know Papa and I would love to have you.”

“I’m fine here, Mama.”

“Or go on holiday! We can go together. How long will these repairs take? Let’s spend a few days shopping in Paris. Or perhaps to Mustique, if it’s going to take longer? Some proper sun will do us both good. There’s never enough sun here.”

That idea was actually tempting, but I couldn’t leave now for a multitude of reasons. The most pressing being that I wanted to have filthy, degrading sex with the plasterer for as long as I could. But I also had this report I needed to get done, and the preparations for my heat to make.

There was the board’s edict too, but I’d been trying not to think about that. At this point, I was confident that I wouldn’t be able to bring myself to do what they wanted me to do, and I’d never be able to look myself in the eye again if I did. Om-Guard would never be mine, and I’d made my peace with that—or I was working on it, at the very least. But I wasn’t ready to address the questions that were raised of what was next for my future.

“Perhaps after my heat, Mama.”

“Your heat!” she shrieked, making me wince, my gaze darting to the office door to confirm that it was still closed. “Oh Inika, you cannot have this alpha in the house. What are you thinking? You are usually such a sensible girl.”

“It’s still weeks away, Mama,” I assured her, gritting my teeth slightly. “I’m perfectly safe, but I have a lot to accomplish in the lead-up, so a holiday—or even switching homes for a while—isn’t practical. Why don’t I come around for dinner, Mama? Will that make you feel better?”

She pulled out the thin glass Om-Guard 10ml Scentshield Rollerball tube for the third time in the course of our call, absently coating her pulse points again.

“Yes, that would be good. I’d like that. Your uncles are already coming for dinner. We’re having Zafrani Murgh.”

“Sounds delicious. I’d love to join you.”

I finished the call and logged off my laptop at 2:58, hurriedly mentioning to a tight-lipped Graeme that I didn’t want to be disturbed as I darted up the main stairs. The shower in the hallway bathroom was running—probably the reason for Graeme’s disapproval—so Blake didn’t see me as I inched under scaffolding and around his workspace to open the door to the only room at this end of the house.

It was my own personal version of a professional fuck den. A makeshift but impersonal nest, used purely for fucking, because no alpha would see my real nest except my mate—if I ever decided on one of those. Once I was in the throes of passion and the sheets were soaked in slick and pheromones, I was usually comfortable enough in here, but the lead-up was always an exercise in endurance because it wasn’t my nest. It smelled like nothing. The upholstery was all chosen by me, but I’d intentionally not selected anything with personality because I didn’t want to get attached to it. The room was white, sterile, and functional, but it got me through my heats and the odd dalliance in between, so I couldn’t complain.

Confident that none of the staff would venture up here, I left the door open, allowing a clear view of the bed from the under-construction part of the hallway. I kicked off my shoes, sliding them under the bed, and climbed onto the mattress so I could attempt to organise the cushions and blankets into something that made sense to me.

Should I have dressed in something a little more intentionally seductive? I glanced down at my black mini skirt and grey cashmere top. My suite of rooms was next door. I could run over and put on some kind of strappy lace bodysuit. Or perhaps the red corset that pushed my breasts up to my chin?

No, this was better. Even though this encounter had been orchestrated in advance, I didn’t want it to feel orchestrated.

I wanted to feel caught.

Like he’d read my mind, the door clicked shut behind me and I startled, not having heard Blake enter while I was on all fours, tucking in a sheet.

“Don’t. Move.”

I froze in place, face down, ass up, the linen sheet clutched tightly between my fingers. There was a pulsing, cramping sensation just south of my bellybutton, and I immediately felt my lace mesh knickers grow damp with slick. From two words. No alpha had ever had the effect on my body that this surly plasterer had.

He moved around the side of the bed, so close that I could feel the heat of his body on the backs of my exposed thighs, but he didn’t actually touch me. My hips tilted forwards of their own volition, begging without words as my face burned with humiliation at my desperation.

“Remind me of your safe word.”

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