Page 50 of Unhinged Omega

Sweet and intoxicating and absolutely fucking terrifying.

My hands clench into fists and I dig my nails into my palms as I try to breathe through my mouth. It doesn't help. I can practically taste her scent on my tongue, and that's making it all even more torturous. Even for an omega, her scent is particularly potent.

"Fuck," I growl, jabbing the button for my floor harder than necessary.

This is the last thing I need right now. Maybrecht will be sending someone to collect her any day. I should just hand her over. Take my weapons, expand my territory, solidify my power base.

It's what I've always done.

What's kept me alive this long.

So why does the thought of letting her go make me want to tear someone's throat out?

The elevator climbs higher, and with each floor, her scent grows stronger. By the time the doors slide open, I'm practically vibrating with hunger.

I've never wanted anything in my life the way I want her.

And that's exactly why I need to stay the fuck away.

The Ghosts started a fucking war to protect their omega. And while a day ago, I was enough of an egomaniac to think I'm above those kinds of base impulses, Cosima has been a wake-up call.

A cruel one.

The elevator doors slide open and her scent hits me like a freight train, nearly knocking me off my feet.Fuck. It's a hundred times more potent than before, filling the air with notes of moonlight and sex and something wild that makes my mouth water.

I stumble out of the elevator, drawn forward by some primal instinct I can't control. My eyes lock onto the source and I freeze, unable to process what I'm seeing.

Cosima.

Naked.

Sprawled out in what looks like a nest made from every scrap of fabric in the entire tower. Blankets, pillows, clothes—all piledaround her in a haphazard circle. Pretty sure if this place had curtains, she'd have commandeered those, too.

And in the center of it all, she's...

Oh fuck.

Her legs are spread wide, giving me a perfect view as she fucks herself with desperate abandon. Two fingers plunge in and out of her dripping cunt at a frantic pace while her other hand works her clit. Her head is thrown back, exposing the elegant line of her throat as breathy moans spill from her parted lips.

I can't move.

Can't think.

Can'tbreathe.

All I can do is stare, transfixed, as the most beautiful creature I've ever seen pleasures herself right in front of me. My cock is instantly, painfully hard, straining against my pants as I drink in the sight of her.

Her skin is flushed pink, a light sheen of sweat making her glow in the dim light. Those lush curves I've been trying so hard not to think about are on full display, her full breasts bouncing slightly with each thrust of her fingers. The air is thick with the scent of her arousal, sweet and musky and criminally intoxicating.

I take an involuntary step forward, drawn by her siren song.

Until she utters a name, and the spell is momentarily broken.

"Azarel!"

The growl tears from my throat before I can stop it. I've never heard that name in my life, but in an instant, I know I hate the fucker more than I've ever hated another living soul.

Violet eyes fly open, heavy-lidded with pleasure but quickly sharpening with rage as they lock onto mine. Her fingers still as a snarl twists those perfect lips.

---