Page 60 of Small Town Shy Omega
“Are you scared?” he huffed.
My scent puffed out, and I groaned… I was totally exposed, unable to hide my true nature.
Pink glittery mist puffed around us. It billowed through the trees, sparkling with the moonbeams.
“I perfumed, Alpha.”
“Oh, did my little Omega perfume?”
“Yes,” I whispered, my lips trembling. “Please forgive.”
“Where does your perfume come out of, sweetheart?”
“Don’t know, Alpha.”
“Tell me,” he rasped, and I knew… I just knew he’d kill me at that moment if I didn't tell him. He’d call me beautiful, but he’d kill me.
“M-M-My pussy.”
My Alpha heaved me up, my hair tugged and yanked. “Please,” I begged, not having my hair pulled like this since I was in grade one, and some mean boys tugged at me. Tugged at my pigtails. “Please, stop!”
“Tell me the truth, Layla. Why did you follow me?”
Clutching at his shirt, I begged for the mercy I knew wouldn’t come.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you all this time, Blake. Since the day at the market.”
“The day where I sliced you peaches?” Blake breathed hotly, nothing but sugar and venom on his tongue.
“Your p-peaches tasted so good,” I muttered.
“Do you remember what you did when you ate the peaches?” Blake wouldn’t let up. “Do you remember how the juice… squirted down your chin?”
“N-No, Alpha.”
“Well, I did…” And he growled, his teeth flashing. “I did, and every time I thought about the shy Omega eating my peaches, I wanted to squeeze…”
“Squeeze what?”
“Just… squeeze,” Blake whispered, and his hot breath let me know: he was no poet, he was a predator.
I cried out, sobs wracking out of me—my tears leaked, little diamonds pouring down my cheeks.
“M-my heat, Alpha,” I begged clawing at his shirt. “Kiss me. Kiss me so you don’t…”
“So I don’t what?”
“Kiss me so you don’t kill me.”
Heaving me into his arms, Blake pressed me against the tree trunk.
He took my jaw, moonlight blazing in his eyes. His arms were around me, supporting me with his body. A moan slipped from my lips, innocent and plangent and true.
I wanted his ire, damnit. I wanted his anger, the pulses of life that flashed behind his heavyset blue eyes.
In a moment his lips were on mine, crushing me in a kiss I couldn’t fathom. My toes curled, and I moaned as his cruel hand cupped my cheek, passionately holding me. I grazed my cheek against his palm, strong and sturdy and masculine. Didn't want to do it. Wished to protest, to tell Blake to get away from my cottage. Leave my property. To get away from me.
Passion overwhelmed me, flowing through my fingertips. I couldn’t be sure whether the moon was giving me power, or whether it was pent-up desire. Desire for Blake.
