Page 47 of Knot Their Soldier: Part One
My palm itches with the want to bend her over my knee and spank her round bottom red. She’d pretend not to love it, and maybe at the start it would hurt, but then she’d melt into my thighs and her pussy would glisten with need.
I reach the thick trunk of a tree not far from the camp, but can’t keep walking deeper into the forest depths. I have to come. Now.
Leaning against the tree, I close my eyes and let myself indulge in a fantasy. Just for a moment. Just to get her out of my mind and bloodstream.
I want to punish her with my cock down in her pretty mouth. I imagine her plush pink lips stretched over the crown, her little hot tongue lapping at the sensitive spot just below.
Fuck.
The thought of her throat clenching around the head of my cock as she gags sends a dribble of pre-come rolling down my wrist.
I pump my cock five times and it’s all it takes for ropes of come to jet onto the forest floor. It’s a massive load and I’m panting from the euphoria of release.
I tilt my head back against the tree trunk, and try to calm my racing heart.
The cool mountain air kisses the sweat on my upper lip, and I lick the salty sheen away.
I wait for my cock to flag and the hum of arousal to fade. It doesn’t. Instead, the heat rises through me again, a hunger clawing through my veins like a stalking tiger.
I wrap my fist around my weeping cock and start to pump again. One orgasm isn’t enough to get her out of my system. She’s rooted deep.
I’ve never come across a mission this consuming, and it’s still day one.
I close my eyes and let the next fantasy flood my imagination, roughly stroking myself to unsatisfying completion. It won’t be enough. The only thing that will sate my hunger is strictly off-limits.
She’s not my Omega.
Only a mission. A recruit to train. Just another soldier.
I grunt into the depths of the forest as I squeeze my partially inflated knot in a vise-like grip and repeat the keystone of our squad’s plan for training Omega Halley Sparks.
Rule number one: don’t fuck the Omega.
Chapter Twenty
Halley
The sun sets and the sound of cicadas trilling fills the aching silence. I’m sitting on my sparse bunk, shoved in the furthest corner of the bunkhouse. The canvas walls billow and balloon with each breath of the light breeze, and it makes me feel like I’m inside a living, breathing creature.
I asked for space after the introductions in a high-pitched squeaky voice, before scampering out of there as fast as I could.
I’m overwhelmed and on edge. Today has been more than I can handle and I’m emotionally wrung out. Each time I picture the hulking Alpha, I cringe. Viper, I remind myself. I don’t know his actual name, but I’m to call him Lieutenant Viper.
It’s so detached. As if I don’t know how his thick cock feels between my thighs, grinding until we both exploded with ecstasy. How am I supposed to act normal around him? I already feel desperately attracted to him, and if I’m honest, the others too. This whole situation makes me feel like I’ve been cast so far out to sea that I can’t even see dry land any more.
I can smell them out there, milling about doing rut knows what. I have no clue what trained killing machines do in their downtime. Play chess? Knit woolly hats? Maim small animals?
I can’t escape them, even in here. Their scents linger on each of the other bunks around me.
There’s a low rumbling hum as the squad chat to each other, and the sound makes the hair on my arms stand on end. I feel like a scared child hiding from a scary monster that lurks just outside her room.
I fuss with the single pillow and blanket on my bunk, moving them again and again until I’m reasonably satisfied with their position. It’s not enough. It can barely be called a bed, let alone a nest.
Back in my dorm is a big, raised bed with a canopy of silks draped over the four posts. It’s filled with the softest, warmest blankets that have only gotten better with years of love and use. In my nest, the outside world ceases to exist. It’s the place where I recharge and refocus. After a day like today, I’ve never needed it more.
My inner Omega whines in distress, clawing at my brain restlessly, causing me to growl low in the back of my throat. An itchy feeling beneath my skin begins, and I know it won’t stop until I can burrow into a safe place.
As an Omega, there are certain things I need. They’re not a nice-to-have, or a personal preference. It’s a need.
