Page 1 of Omega Claimed

1

The dreams began way earlier than most omegas have their first heat. I remember the first time I woke up drenched with sweat, a puddle of slick soaking the covers under my ass. I couldn’t recall the dream, but my insides felt empty, and my groin throbbed. I quickly learned that stroking my hard shaft helped, but the emptiness remained. Whimpering, I put my fingers into my hole and wriggled them until heavenly pleasure burst through my belly, and my shaft spat out drops of sweet cream. I licked it off my fingers and fell back asleep.

My relief was short-lived.

Night after night, I would lie awake with torturous cravings eating me from the inside. My fingers were too thin and short to satisfy. Deep inside, I remained hollow. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I had no one to tell.

One Sunday, I came to the breakfast room to find the preacher there by my father’s side. I bowed my head to greet our guest and sat down in polite silence, as I was raised to do. My father’s guests rarely spoke to me, but this morning, the preacher sniffed the air and frowned at me.

“Syl. You smell of sin. Why is that?”

Red in the face, I looked down. I didn’t know what he meant. I was afraid I was sick, but I couldn’t tell a preacher that my ass was leaking and aching every night and that I had to put my fingers inside myself to find relief.

“You need to find him a husband,” the preacher told my father.

My father waved his hand dismissively. “He’s young. We have time.”

The preacher glared at me. “He’s ripe,” he said with disgust.

I met my father’s cold, measured gaze. He looked tired as always, his eyes glassy and cheeks gray.

“I suppose a few invitations could sort it out. He’s pretty.”

The preacher nodded and returned to his ham.

Maybe it would have worked. A few invitations, a few smiles, and I’d have been married off.

But my father was a drunk.

The dinner parties he organized ended with him snoring in his armchair, an empty bottle or two lying under the table, and his guests leaving with amused smirks. Of course, they gladly came again. Despite his undignified habit, my father was an influential man, and many deemed it wise to stay within his good grace.

One evening, a guest stayed longer than the rest. His name was Gerald, and he was a noble alpha in his forties, the most powerful among the town’s councilmen, maybe even richer than my father. He had black eyes and a dark beard with streaks of silver in it, and his shoulders were wide and square in his stiff coat. When I came closer to refill his glass and caught his scent,it stirred something in my belly. I’d always been afraid of him, that night more than ever.

My father fell asleep with his mouth open, snoring loudly, so I stood to say goodnight to our last remaining visitor. It wasn’t appropriate for a young unmarried omega to be alone with an alpha after dark, and I thought Gerald would leave. Our servants had already carried away trays with empty glasses, and the fire in the fireplace was dying. Gerald nodded in response to me bidding him goodnight, but instead of going to the door, he followed me upstairs.

I hurried to my bedroom, scared to imagine why he could be coming after me. When I was closing the door, he put his foot into the gap. I jolted away, my heart pounding.

He walked into my bedroom and locked the door behind him. Then he removed his coat and belt. He smelled faintly of sweat, and the scent felt strange in my room, where no alpha had ever been before.

Gerald charged at me where I stood frozen and gripped me by my nape.

I should have pushed him away when he kissed me. But he was gentle, coaxing me and teaching me. His tongue slid against mine, and I liked the taste. I closed my eyes. The familiar ache grew inside me, stronger than ever before. The hollow feeling tugged at my insides and made my hole wet. Trembling, I let Gerald undress me until I was naked, and he only had his underpants on.

Until that night, I hadn’t known what fucking was. Not really. I’d known alphas did things to omegas behind closed doors, but nobody ever explained them to me. I had very little idea what Gerald wanted from me.

Today, I’m convinced he would have overpowered me if I’d tried to stop him. Maybe a part of me enjoyed the danger—I don’t remember.

His fingers stole into my crease, rubbing over my hole, and I gasped. His touch there felt like lightning.

“You should be dry like sawdust. But you’re not, are you?”

He pushed a finger inside me. His touch there felt wonderful, but I was shaking violently, not knowing what he’d do next.

“Oh yes. Like I thought. You’re horny like a cheap whore.”

Abruptly, he flipped me and bent me over the bed. Fear made my heart gallop, but the horrid ache grew right along with it.

“I love virgins like you,” he said, his voice low. He kicked my legs apart. “Ripe but unspoiled. Irresistible.”

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