Page 8 of Terror

Heat churns in my belly, and I break out in a sweat, then wipe my brow.

“You’re shaking,” he states.

Embarrassed, I nod.

Terror loads cans under the kitchen island and sits on a stool. He reaches into the duffel and slips on black leather gloves. “Come.”

It’s September in San Diego, and under a full black uniform, I’m sure he’s hot, but he doesn’t sweat or appear uncomfortable. I approach but keep a decent distance. It’s not to be. He grabs my hips and pulls me between his legs. His cheek rubs mine, and his hands come around me. I’m flush against his hard body, and the scent of him is intoxicating. I lean my head on his shoulder and fist his shirt, wishing he’d take the stupid thing off along with all the clothes so I can get a good look at him. I’m sure I’ll be dreaming about his body working out on top of mine for some time to come.

“You are in heat, and you can’t leave your house,” he says.

“Thanks to you.”

“Indeed.”

“I have classes on Monday and need to check in or get dropped out of the class. I can’t afford not to go.”

“Pray that your heat is over by then, because you’re not leaving.”

Oh, I’m going.I keep that to myself while I run my hands over his biceps, which flex under my touch as he places his palms on the back of my thighs. My body lights up inside. I grab the back of his neck and climb. Jaw clenched tight so I don’t shove my tongue down his throat and embarrass myself some more, I climb him like a damn tree. He is here to service me, no?

Terror takes me climbing onto his lap in stride and holds me up by my ass, then slips my underwear to the side and presses those big digits against my opening. I wet instantly, leaving liquid all over his fingers.

“What a nice kitten you are. We’re going to have a lot of fun. I will let you use me any way you want.” He presses his lips to mine, and I open so he can stroke my tongue with his forked one. Strong hands steady me as I wiggle on top of him. Fingers tease my opening but not my clit. The clit, he taps gently, coaxing more liquid from my pussy.

I moan into his mouth and pull on his shirt, wanting to rip the damn thing off.

He breaks the kiss and reaches for the duffel, then pulls out a pen and paper and sets them on the counter.

“Names and places you’ve gone to get Betaren in the past year. Anything and anyone connected to it. Give it to me.”

Should I tell him I’ve agreed to fund the whole thing from the beginning? Betaren lets me pass the masses of Alphas on campus, walk in anywhere without fearing they’ll know I’m an Omega. It’s freedom unlike anything I’ve experienced, and having experienced a flood of heat once in public, I’m gonna fund it for as long they make it. Flooding the ground beneath my feet at the age of twelve humiliated me. A brush of my arm against an Alpha male sent me into a frenzy, although thankfully, this happened during recess. I hid in the bathroom. The bell rang, and in my first heat, I had to return to class. For years, people laughed at me.

“Yohan,” I tell him. “District Three. 1267 Belve Street.”

Terror purses his lips. “Thank you. Anything else?”

“That’s where I get it from.”

“Recently?”

“Yeah.”

“How recent?”

“A few weeks ago.”

“I see. And he deals in large quantities, you believe?”

I nod. “He sells me three weeks’ worth of supplies.”

“Which explains why you’re out now.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alpha.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

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