Page 32 of Beg for It

Typically, omegas take these for a variety of reasons, but there’s no reason for him to have a prescription for these. This beta is making himself even more interesting to me instead of less.

Cleaning up the pills because I can’t help myself, I put the top on it and place it carefully back on the table.

“Where the fuck are you?” I mutter under my breath to fill the empty space.

Pulling out my phone, I press the app that allows me to control the different cameras I have set up in this dorm building. The only place I stopped myself from using them is the bathroom, because even I have limits for privacy.

This is quickly something that I kick myself for as I see Camden walking out with someone, his hair soaking wet from the bathroom.

“Fuck me, really? Brooks' little hand job wasn’t good enough for you?” I ask the phone.

Rewinding the feed so that I can see when he walks in, I freeze the frame when someone else follows him a few minutes later. Professor Beckham Kennedy is clear as day following a student into the bathroom and then helping him out of it a long while later.

Brooks said the little rabbit loved being degraded, maybe that’s what the good professor is doing to him? Does he enjoy cleaning his shoes with his tongue before sucking his cock? I’m angry at the thought, because Camden is mine.

Well, and my pack’s. I have very strong feelings about not wanting to share him, or his apparent needs. Fuck, Camden can barely walk as the professor holds up most of his weight, and the rage I feel makes it difficult to watch the rest of the video feed.

Only we get to play with him. Everyone else needs to fuck off. Squeezing my phone so hard it almost breaks, I storm out of the room. I need to tell the guys about this development, but my possessiveness is riding me hard.

Camden needs a leash so he can’t go too far from us. I need to be able to see him at all times. Clearly, having cameras in every hallway in this dorm isn’t enough. He doesn’t deserve to have privacy to take a shit or shower because he’s using it to fuck teachers!

I’m so angry, I’m not above finding a way to bind him to me at all times. Fuck, did I lock his door? Dammit, I don’t think I did.

Remembering the doors all lock automatically when you shut them, I huff out a breath. I’m spiralling pretty badly right now, but I’m angry that I don’t know where my plaything is. I’ll have to find a way to fix that.

Me:

The little rabbit is on the run. I’ll update as soon as I can.

Brooks:

Find him, so I can feed him the load of cum I’m about to give River instead.

Snorting in amusement, it helps me pull back the roaring anger pushing me into making a possible wrong move. All the world is a series of chess moves, you just have to know what you’re willing to sacrifice.

Pulling up different options for trackers, I lean forward on one of the chairs in the lobby as I focus on stores that’ll sell them. This solves my every problem! Finding one I can inject under his skin, I enjoy the idea of marking him in the only way I can. The information of his whereabouts will be constantly refreshed to an app on my phone, so I’ll never have to feel this uncomfortable pinching sensation in my chest.

I hate not knowing where he is right now. I’ve always thought Professor Kennedy was a decent man and teacher, but he’s treading on my turf. I won’t accept his interference, which means I’ll also need to pay him a visit tomorrow during one of the breaks in his lectures.

For now, I have a tracker to buy. Standing tall, I enjoy the way people move out of the way for me as I leave the beta dorms. Camden, I hope you appreciate your freedom for now, because you’re not going to have it much longer.

* * *

Professor Kennedy is in his office when I find him the following day, and I’m in no way any less angry when I see him. All I can see in my mind is the way Camden leaned on him as he left the bathroom. Now, I’ve begun to twist the memory into a predatory manner, something I cannot stomach.

“You have a few minutes for me, Prof?” I ask, pretending to be in a good mood.

I don’t have any classes with him, and need a foot in the door before he tells me his office hours are for his current students. I need answers, which means I need him off guard.

“These are my office hours, Henley,” Professor Kennedy drawls. “I don’t recall you being enrolled in any of my classes this semester.”

“That would be correct, but I have some concerns I need to bring to your attention,” I say from the door of his office. “I figured you’d be the best person to bring them to, being that they are rumors that revolve around you.”

Professor Kennedy is a younger member of the faculty here at Crown Well, and I’ve always noticed that while he gets along with his students, he makes sure to hold onto an air of professionalism. It’s why I’m so surprised that he’d be willing to chuck his teaching position in the garbage for Camden.

What is it about this guy that makes people lose their minds over him? I won’t lie and say I’m not one of those people. I have been since I first saw him.

“I don’t appreciate whatever you’re doing right now,” Professor Kennedy says, beginning to seethe. “You should speak plainly or get the fuck out.”

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