Page 9 of Bewitched

L ayla was frustrated, not with arousal or even with her predicament. Everything had taken a back seat to the sheer frustration that her nest wasn’t coming together properly. She had little to go on about making it well, but she just knew that whatever she was doing was wrong. She had even tried to look up nest ideas on her phone, but the internet was still blocked.

She crawled inside the closet and rearranged the blankets again, spreading the thickest over the floor and then laying the pillows against the walls. She had taken everything from his bed, a few blankets from the hall closet, every pillow she could find, and every single towel. But no matter what, her nest just didn’t look right.

They were nothing like Helena’s nests. Everything had been soft and fluffy and pink, aesthetically and tactilely pleasant. Utterly different than the browns, blues, and creams of the nest she had put together. Though, the fuzzy blankets were nice and soft.

Layla wiped her eyes again and shoved her face into the fuzziest blanket, inhaling the mild cinnamon flavor. Jaxon hadn’t touched it in a while, so it wasn’t overpowering.

She trembled at the thought of him touching her again, his fingers between her legs, slipping inside. Why did she want that? Was that instinct?

Slick trickled down to her ankles, and she pressed her thighs together like that could do anything. She found a washcloth and wiped her legs before tossing it into the dark bedroom. She hated her own smell. Maybe that was what was wrong with her nest.

“Alright in here, kitten?”

Layla froze. Jaxon had stayed in the living room or bathroom, ignoring her while she built and rearranged and stole all his linens. It had been strange for a moment to have so much freedom from his eyes. Maybe he felt less threatened now that she was deep inside his den and nesting. She might have read that somewhere. She regretted not paying attention in health class.

She shifted into the darker parts of the closet, away from him.

Jaxon peeked inside. He had changed his shirt. No more blood stains. He’d also taken off his shoes… and his belt. Layla looked away.

“Looks comfy,” he said.

Layla bristled. She didn’t want him in her nest. It was hers. He wasn’t welcome. Only her alpha was allowed in her nest, and Jaxon was an alpha but not her alpha.

But he was older. He had seen mating nests before, definitely more than she had. Maybe he knew how to fix it.

She sighed and finally looked at him. “It doesn’t look right. I don’t know what’s wrong with it.”

Jaxon pushed his sleeves up his massive forearms, revealing more of the tattoos along his arms — a forest, a knife, a three-headed dog — and leaned further inside the small space. His hands stayed on the door and the wall, not quite invading. “Maybe pull those hangers over with the shirts. It’ll give you better top cover, and it won’t feel so open.”

Layla glared but pulled the button-down shirts over, creating a curtain of cinnamon-scented cover. Better. The nest part was smaller and cozier. Now, she didn’t have to contend with the room’s height. She grumbled. She didn’t want him to be right.

She settled into the blankets again and pulled out one of the towels to stuff between her legs. She didn’t want to make a mess out of everything in her nest, and Jaxon wouldn’t even give her underwear to help.

“Feel better?” he asked.

“No.” Now, she had a vague anxiety that she couldn’t pinpoint. Whether it was caused by the situation in general or Jaxon in particular. She wanted to growl at him and chase him off. Leave her alone to be miserable and itchy.

Fingers tapped the doorjamb impatiently. “I’m going to bring you some water. You are losing a lot of fluids.”

Layla scrunched her nose. She didn’t need to be reminded that she was producing slick like a leaky faucet. It was the fucking worst.

Her vagina had never felt like that before, sore and itchy and swollen and sort of open. She had masturbated before, plenty of times. She had even had sex with a boring beta that she couldn’t recall the name of. She hadn’t been impressed with his skills. It hadn’t been bad, but nothing had felt like this.

She needed to get ahold of herself. She could survive this, assuming Georgia didn’t tell her parents — if Roan didn’t tell their father. She couldn’t let anyone know she was like this — almost insane with need.

She crouched down on her belly and ground her vulva against a towel. Oh, that was nice. It was almost like scratching an itch, an itch that didn’t move but didn’t resolve itself either. Layla squirmed her hands below her belly, balling up the towel so she could flex her hips and rub against the rough terrycloth.

“Fuck,” she whispered. It was good. It was so good. The muscles in her core spasmed, drenching the towel in slick, making the glide over the material smoother.

She gasped and humped harder. She pushed the towel aside and felt for the slick slide of hot skin. Her core was so hot, wet, and swollen. Her fingers found her center, where her body opened greedily and sucked her inside. She groaned.

Jaxon tisked, standing over her, a water bottle held in one of his massive paws. She didn’t realize he had returned. “Naughty, omega. You have an alpha right here, and you are humping clothing.”

Layla blushed, and she forced her hand to still, fingers still sucked deep inside her cunt. She was acting like those writhing omegas she’d seen in porn. Oh, gods, she couldn’t be like them.

She watched him warily.

Jaxon crouched inside the door, crowding her. He set the bottle of water in the corner, and Layla stared at it so she didn’t have to look at him. He reached for her and gripped her thigh, staring at her hand with a raised eyebrow. “What did I say?”

Her anxiety heightened. He was touching her, but it wasn’t calming. It was terrifying. She didn’t want him to see. She wasn’t a whore. Her center clenched around her fingers, and she gasped.

His scent was suddenly overwhelming, burning the roof of her mouth. Stinging her sinuses. Her body wanted him and whatever he would do to her, but her mind was clear enough to be afraid. She wanted to go home. She wanted her mom. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Jaxon pressed down on her neck, pushing her upper body to the floor. Her nipples protested contact with the floor, and she hissed.

“Shh,” he whispered. The hand on her thigh slid up, touching her lips. She felt his knuckles graze her hand. “Easy, omega. Your alpha can take care of you now.”

Her breath caught, and her body tensed. “Alpha?” She could smell her alpha. He was thick in the air, but there was only Jaxon on his knees beside her. It didn’t match up in her head.

“Good girl,” Jaxon said. “My good omega.”

“ You’re not my—“

Jaxon growled, beastly and violent, right in her ear.

Where was her alpha? Why was he letting Jaxon be mean to her? His teeth were close, so close. Oh, no.

“Please don’t bite me,” she whispered.

Jaxon smiled sadly, one hand on her neck, the other on her thigh.

“Don’t bite me,” she said stronger, braver.

She could smell him. Her Alpha. The cinnamon and the anger and the sharp arousal. He wanted her. Her Alpha wanted her. Layla closed her eyes and gasped. Her fingers moved, and she shuddered. She couldn’t stop. His scent was in her nose; his hands were on her body. She moved her fingers furiously over her clit, chasing that ever-heightening itch that wouldn’t go away.

She was going to come.

“Kitten…” Jaxon said warningly.

Not her Alpha. Jaxon needed to go away. She bared her teeth at him. He wasn’t helping. He could die mad.

Her Alpha brushed his fingers through her hot folds, and Layla screamed.

She came in wave after wave; every muscle seemed to spasm at once, and she kicked and cried and shuddered. It was like dying; if dying could feel good.

Her alpha held her down, keeping her from floating away. She felt good and numb. She was crying, but she couldn’t remember why.

The hand on the back of her neck moved, thumb rubbing across her mating gland. She relaxed and slumped to the floor. She could barely breathe. She could barely think. What was she doing? Where was she? Who was holding her down?

“Naughty kitten. What did I tell you?”

Layla glanced up at the big alpha leaning over her. It was Jaxon. Right. His den. His nest. Bits and pieces were fitting together again, but all too slowly.

She trembled, and her teeth chattered with sudden cold. “I don’t know.” She sounded rough. Her throat hurt.

Jaxon chuckled and delicately brushed her hair back from her face. “Is your brain all fuzzy with hormones? Is that why you can’t follow the rules?”

Layla glanced up, breathing shallowly. There were rules now? Why didn’t anyone tell her these things? “I built my nest.”

His smile was patronizing. “A very nice nest, but I told you not to touch yourself. That’s my responsibility now.”

“Oh,” she said and shook her head. He didn’t say that. He had said… what did he say? Her Alpha would help. Was Jaxon her Alpha? That didn’t sound right.

His fingers slipped through her folds to her clit and pressed. Her hips stuttered, and she gave a bark of distress. Too sensitive. Too much. “This is your first heat, and you did let me watch. I should be lenient.”

She nodded frantically. Leniency meant she wouldn’t be punished. She was a good girl. She didn’t need to be punished.

Layla shivered. She was freezing, only made worse by the fine sheen of sweat all over her skin. She wanted him to touch her but also to crawl into the dark corner of the closet and cry. What was wrong with her?

She waved him off of her, and he reluctantly let her go for a moment. She crawled woozily toward the back of the closet, to the dark where she could rest. She needed to think, but she couldn’t catch a thought for longer than a few seconds. Something was wrong, not natural.

Layla stumbled and fell into the wall, her shoulder slamming into the pillows she’d lined the nest with. “Jaxon,” she said. “Help me.”

He picked her up, and Layla barely struggled as he laid her on her side in the nest and pressed his full length against her back. He was so much bigger. Taller, wider, stronger. He could kill her with one hand, and she laughed at the thought. Alphas killed omegas. Bad omegas. Was she a bad omega?

His arms curled around her, pulling her back against him, and nuzzled her shoulder. “Good girl,” he murmured. “You’re a good omega. Relax now, you’re alright.”

She nodded. “Oh? I’m okay,” she repeated. She grabbed his wrist, holding him tight like he was the only thing that could keep her grounded. “I’m… thank you.”

He patted her stomach and purred, the vibrations relaxing her more than his words ever could.

Layla breathed shallowly as she lay wrapped up in Jaxon’s arms. Maybe she would disappear if she was still enough, sink into the blankets and pillows, invisible. Jaxon slid the closet door shut with his foot, leaving them in near-total darkness. There was a pillow in front of her face. It was blue with brown stripes, but in the dark, it was merely black with stripes of deeper black.

She could feel his hard cock pressed against her back. She knew her judgment was probably off, but it felt huge like the rest of him. She didn’t know whether she wanted to rub against him or shy away. Everything felt so amplified.

Jaxon buried his face in her hair and took a deep breath. “You smell delicious. A perfect little omega.”

Layla shivered at the praise. She was a good omega. She’d been praised more in the last few hours than she’d ever been praised as a child. She was required to be perfect, but she never was.

His teeth scraped across her neck. Her body arched into him. “Don’t—” Don’t bite me.

Jaxon’s hand was on her bare stomach under her shirt. If he reached a bit lower, he could find the patch of red hair, tacky with slick and sweat. “Shh, I’ll make you feel good. Chase away that bad feeling in your belly.”

He seemed to know what was wrong even if Layla didn’t have the words for it. Her tummy did hurt. An unwellness sitting in her hollow bones, but she wasn’t sure he could fix it or make it worse. She was so cold.

Jaxon slipped a hand under her head and held her jaw. “Stick out your tongue.”

She tried to glare at him, but the effect didn’t work in the dark. She eventually did as commanded, and he wiped the gland on his wrist on her tongue.

Layla sputtered and tried to jerk out of his grip. The pheromones spread over her tongue and hit the roof of her mouth, making it itch and spark like she had shoved a spoonful of cinnamon powder in her mouth. She scraped her tongue on her teeth to remove the offending oil and managed to drool all over Jaxon’s arm. Not that it did any good. The damage was done. His taste was in her mouth, his pheromones given a direct route to her brain.

He petted her stomach, and she groaned. Everything was hazy, the fear driven back by arousal. She needed to move. She needed to come again. She needed more of that flavor.

“Please,” she said.

The hand on her stomach drifted lower, slipping between her legs. Fingers slid inside, and she moaned. He was so much bigger than her own fingers. It was so good. He felt so good.

“See, you’re not even satisfied. Only an alpha can help you,” Jaxon said.

“Alpha,” she moaned. Yes, Alpha would take care of her.

She raised her knee to give him room, and he pumped faster, flicking his thumb over her clit. She came two minutes ago, and she was going to come again with her Alpha’s fingers in her cunt and his breath in her ear.

His other hand gripped her breast through her shirt, pinching a nipple between his fingers.

Layla tried to move, pushing her chest into his hand, pulling her bottom back against his cock. There was a new stretch bordering on pain. His cock? No, another finger. So good and full. She’d never felt full before.

She grabbed the striped pillow, twisting the material between her fingers. “Alpha?” she begged.

He was moving behind her, his cock rutting against her bottom. Fucking, but not. She wanted Alpha inside her, but he wasn’t, not like she wanted. She wanted him everywhere, consuming her.

“Let go, kitten,” he whispered. “Show me how you love this, little omega.”

Layla tensed and came. She cried out wordlessly. Her mind fizzled and popped as her body spasmed, her thighs clamped around his hand, keeping him deep inside her. Yes, yes, yes.

He held her in place as he rutted against her back, his cock hard and unyielding.

It was so strange on the other side of her orgasm, like she wasn’t really there. Maybe she never had been.

Jaxon gripped her hip, squeezing roughly. He gasped and groaned as her bottom took his rough humping. She was going to have bruises.

Layla tried to pull away, but Jaxon growled, pulling her closer to his body. He grabbed her neck, making her back arch against his chest. His fingers were sticky with her slick. She could smell herself, that too-sweet scent. She felt sick.

“Fuck,” Jaxon snapped. He gave a few more erratic thrusts and stilled.

Jaxon’s grip on her loosened, and Layla scrambled away from him to the back of the closet. She pressed herself into the wall. What was she doing? There was no escape this way.

She watched him lick his fingers clean of slick in the dark.

She was embarrassed and afraid. There was a raging hot war inside of her, a need to please him but with a deep, unabiding fear and a shame so ingrained in her being that she couldn’t begin to process where it came from. It shouldn’t be like this.

She wrapped her arms around herself and pulled the overlarge shirt over her knees. She was dizzy and cold. Her brain was moving so slowly.

Jaxon stayed where she had left him, stretched out in her nest amid the blankets and pillows. She couldn’t see him very well in the dim light. Was he mad at her? He smelled angry. He always smelled so angry.

Did she make him do something he didn’t want to do? Omegas were like that. Always ruining things. Her mother said so.

She needed to talk to someone. Someone who wasn’t mad at her. Another omega. That might help. Another omega would know how to help. “Can I call Roan?”

Jaxon stopped licking his fingers like a satisfied cat and stared at her. “You already talked to him. Remember? He’ll stop by in a few days.”

Layla cocked her head. When did that happen? She hasn’t talked to him in months. “No, I didn’t. We don’t talk. I don’t… Did I?”

He reached for her, but she dodged his hand.

“Can I call him again?”

Jaxon’s brows lifted. “It’s really late, Layla. He’s asleep.”

“It’s late?” She hugged herself. That didn’t sound right either. She should be home in her dorm.

“Yes, kitten,” he said slowly, like he was talking to a child. “He told you to build a nest.”

Layla looked down at the piles of blankets and pillows she was messing up with her fidgeting. It wasn’t pretty. She was making a mess. She wiped tears from her cheeks and started to rearrange the little corner of her nest. It had to be perfect, or her Alpha wouldn’t want her.

“It’s a very nice nest,” Jaxon said.

It wasn’t. It smelled like filthy omega slick. She shivered. “What’s wrong with me?”

Jaxon was quiet for a moment, but he finally answered. “You’re having a breakout heat from your medication failing. It’s still blocking a lot of your hormone receptors. And the alcohol on top of it didn’t help.”

Layla trembled, cold overtaking her. “I’m not supposed to feel like this?”

“No.”

She covered her mouth to keep her sob inside, but her fingers smelled like slick. She gagged.

Jaxon moved, pulling her hands down and tugging her away from the wall. “Shh.”

“How do you know?” she asked. Why did he know so much, and she knew so little? It wasn’t fair.

He pulled her close to his body, his heat seeping through the layers of their clothes. “I’ve seen it before. It wasn’t pretty then. It’s not pretty now.”

“I need a doctor.”

Jaxon nodded; his hands were at her waist, holding her in his lap. “After your heat. Anyone comes in here right now, I’ll kill them. I can take care of you.”

Layla turned on him and tried to shove him away. He couldn’t tell her what to do. This wasn’t happening to him. His body wasn’t trying to burn itself out. His mind wasn’t a collection of conflicting wants. “This isn’t affecting you!”

Jaxon grabbed her arms and easily pinned her to the floor again. His face was close to hers, terrible scaring right in front of her eyes. “Don’t assume my control for immunity. I am as bound to this biology as you are. You have no idea what your smell does to me. No idea what I want to do to you. No idea what I will do to you if you push me, little beta-wannabe.”

His eyes were dark and hungry. She feared him. The way he meant every word. The way he stared at her neck. She looked away, submissive. “Don’t bite me. Say-say it. Say you won’t bite me.”

Jaxon drew away and laid back down on the blankets and pillows. “It’s late. You should try to sleep while you can.”

Now she knew he was ignoring her on purpose. Her lip trembled.

He patted the blankets beside him. His eyes were closed, not looking at her. She really was tired. Sleep would help, maybe.

She crawled to the open spot beside him. She trembled with cold as he pulled a blanket over her and wrapped an arm around her middle. It wasn’t what she wanted, but at least she was warm.