Page 9 of Terror

“Anything else you’d like to tell me?”

“Can we just…have sex and not talk?”

“We can. Show me your nest.”

No way. “I prefer the couch or bedroom. Floor? Here in the kitchen.”

He chuckles. “Nest.”

I run a hand though my hair. “Why the nest?”

“Because.”

“Because…” I motion with my hand for him to tell me more. He pushes his gloved finger inside me. Forget the reasons. I throw my head back and prop myself on his shoulders, move up and down on his finger. His lips brush my neck, trailing down and down. One claw tucks into the top of my dress under my left breast, and he sucks on my nipple. I come with a scream, and he adds another finger, starts pumping because I’m still coming and coming. He clamps my nipple and tugs gently, sending my orgasm into overdrive. The more he stimulates me, the more liquid I gush. I can’t stop coming.

Terror lifts his gaze, removes his fingers, fixes my dress. “That’s enough.”

My pussy flutters one last time, and the scorching heat in my belly is gone. This male can control my body. It terrifies me.

Chapter 4

Arkin

Liar, liar, pussy on fire.Trying to think while I have an Omega in heat riding my fingers, begging to be fucked and serviced the way I promised I’d service her, is not as easy as one might believe. I can work up an Omega without touching her, so there is a certain amount of pride in what I do. Nevertheless, I’m not immune to the Omega influence. It is not possible for an Alpha to be completely oblivious to the scent and the impulse to claim one. Omegas are little magnets, and I want to stick my dick inside this particular one and never leave her heat.

She’s so fucking responsive to me. Under the gloves, my fingers itch to touch her bare skin and probe the little waste hole. It’s nice and lubricated, ready for a finger. I wonder what Kitten smells like without the drugs in her system. Via the pores on her skin, I can scent the Betaren leaving her body. It’s not an unpleasant smell, only one we associate with human disinfectants, not with Omega pussy. A strange mixture, but I’m glad I could find a way to describe it. It makes it easier for other Collectors to know what they’re dealing with.

“Have you not nested?” Some human Omegas dislike nesting. It’s an instinct they fight. They fight their dynamic in general, for it makes them feel like they’re a class below Alphas and Betas. Regha Omegas are proud of their dynamic, especially those women with packs of males entering competitions in order to claim them. It is very difficult to understand the human mentality, but we must understand it in order to thrive as a society.

“I have, Alpha. But it’s just that…” She bites her lip, turns red. I cover her pussy with the underwear I moved to the side and tap the entry hole, then arrange Kitten on my lap with her legs closed, sitting on my thigh. I have a limited supply of restraint, and she’s testing me already. I might just slip my dick inside her by accident. She throws one leg over the other. Excellent. I put my hand on her pale knee and press down.Keep them legs closed, Omega, so I don’t slip.

“Tell me,” I order.

“I wasn’t expecting Alphas.”

“Naturally.” I’m annoyed. She is not to have visitors during heat at all, Alphas in particular. I wonder if anyone has ever serviced her.Do not ask that!

“Had I known you were coming, I’d have called a cleaning crew,” she says, gaze moving past the kitchen and into the other wing of the house.

“Why?”

“Well, I’m a double major, and this house is big.”

I roll my eyes. “Drawn-out conversations make me a little crazy. Just come out and say what you want to say.”

“My nest is a mess. The house…” She shakes her head. “I do the best I can.”

When an Omega tells you her nest is a mess, it must really be in bad shape. All Omega nests are messy. In my experience, they like them messy. I look around at the not-messy home, lean to the side a bit to take a better look into the dining room and the three living spaces in the other wing. She slides off my leg, and I catch her. A giggle escapes her. She’s really cute, this one. Perhaps I stare longer than necessary while I’m on the job, because she breaks eye contact and her cheeks color red. This is blushing, not rage like right before she kneed me in the groin.

“It’s worse upstairs,” she says. “If I have time, I clean the downstairs first. I hate walking into a mess.” She shrugs. “My room is nice, though. If you want…” Not making eye contact with me, she twirls her hair. A nervous gesture. Does she think she has to seduce me? That’s laughable. Kitten is oblivious to my struggles. This is good. I can work with it.

“The nest,” I say.

She rolls her eyes and walks away. I watch her little dress sway and barely cover her ass. If she were mine, I’d hide her. Nobody should see this fine body but me. So yes I’m a bit paranoid, kind of obsessive, and definitely turned on. But she’s my job, so I follow the Omega down the steps to the laundry room, where she fills a basket with dry laundry. I take it from her and carry it back upstairs, heading for the couch in the smallest of the three living spaces.

I drop the basket on the table.

She moves to start folding.

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