Page 17 of The Omega Trials: Part One

“Ecker asked you a question, and that is not how you answer your alpha.”

His voice is like gravel, barely constrained lust or anger I can’t tell, but it doesn’t matter. His nose is mere inches from mine. I can smell his heady musk, like sweat and sandalwood.

Now that my omega nature has manifested, his scent isn’t just a smell. It’s a wave that rocks my stomach and makes me want to squeeze my legs together. I can even feel the wetness pool between them. Even more embarrassing than the reaction itself is knowing they will all be able to scent my arousal.

His eyes shutter closed as he works his jaw and inhales tediously, like he’s praying for strength. The fingers gripping my chin tighten. He opens his eyes slowly, like the sun rising over the horizon, and says coolly, “Lick it up.”

“Okay,” I say submissively enough that they all let go of me. “As soon as you go fuck yourself.” They’re clearly going to keeptorturing me no matter how much I plead. So why should I just roll over and take it?

Unamused, his face is hard as stone as he repeats, “Lick. It. Up.”

His words don’t sound different this time, maybe a little deeper, but theyfeeldifferent.

Almost against my will, I fold, my knees bending. I only feel relief from this inexplicable pressure once I’m on the floor. The cold tile is uncomfortable but somehow welcome, like this is where I’m meant to be.

Fuck, he must have used his alpha command.

Cowing to it is just another way my body betrays me.

They stand above me expectantly. My skin feels too tight, my equilibrium off balance the longer I resist the order. Again, my body obeys without my mental consent. I lower my chest and bitterly outstretch my tongue.

“That’s better,” Ecker mocks above me, and I want with all my heart to straighten my spine, but my tongue only gets closer and closer to the floor. My saliva is small, barely discernible bubbles among the spilled bathwater.

My stomach churns as I swipe my tongue against the marble, licking up my spit. As soon as I do, I jump to my feet. Disgusted with myself, I offer no resistance when they pull me back against the wall.

Titus holds out his palm wordlessly. I look at it for a beat before somehow intrinsically knowing what he wants. I spit the ball of saliva I’ve been too repulsed to swallow into it.

I gasp as my back is flattened against the wall by the men pressing on my shoulders. At the same time, Titus’s hand with my spit dips between my legs, vulgarly cupping my pussy.

I suck in a breath as he leans forward to whisper in my ear, his cotton shirt rough against my sensitive nipples. “Ready to beg?”

I can hear the smirk in his voice as his breath feathers over my skin. A finger delves between my labia, and he works it up and down my slit. The throaty whimper I make is more humiliating than the way my hips rock unconsciously into his touch.

Tears prick my eyes as I realize where this is going. I defeatedly realize I may be begging them to stop sooner than I’d hoped.

“Wait, please don’t—I’m sore from the ceremony,” I try. It’s certainly an excuse but also not wholly untrue. Though I suspect this ache in my core has less to do with my virginity and more to do with the way I’m burning for him to fill me again, even though my words and thoughts plead the opposite.

“We can all smell you.” I’m not expecting the alpha whose name I still don’t know to speak, but he does through gritted teeth. “You’re so aroused right now, I bet you could take two of us.”

Horror that they might do just that has me shutting my mouth. Titus laughs without smiling, his steely eyes growing hooded. “Don’t worry. Even though Bishop’s probably right, I have other plans for you.”

He keeps his darkening gaze firmly on mine as he lowers to one knee. His palm cups my inner thigh as if he’s going to lift my leg, but he pauses. “Though, feel free tobegfor otherwise.”

Ecker chuckles in my ear, and I twist away from him only to be met by Bishop on the other side, nostrils flared and eyes flecked with gold. With no better options, I look down at the alpha between my legs as he lifts my thigh and holds me open.

He has that same ravenous look in his eyes as he did the first time I saw him. The intensity is like a magnet. I’m unable to look away as his tongue flicks out and flattens. My skin buzzes, every nerve ending tingling as I hang in unbearable anticipation, waiting for him to make contact.

It feels like my lungs seize when he finally does with one excruciatingly slow lick. I nearly whine when he pulls away so soon, but the arrogance on his face when he looks up at me is enough to make me bite my tongue. “Breathe, Omega. You can’t beg if you’re passed out.”

“I hate you.”

“I bet.” His mouth ticks in a half-smirk before he dives back between my thighs.

My teeth dig into my lip. It’s the worst kind of torture. The flames licking at my senses are in sync with the flicks of his tongue. He’s slow and deliberate with heavy, wide strokes over my clit.

I end up squeezing my eyes shut because the sight of his fingers digging into my thigh and his broad shoulders between my legs is too much. Unfortunately, it doesn’t stop my pitiful moans and breathy pants.

My nerves wind tighter and tighter. I can’t hold back the desire and need from flooding my system. There’s an explosion of warmth in my chest that spreads like a bright light through my limbs as I go into heat for the second time today.

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