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Chapter Three

Sloane

T his was wrong, so fucking wrong.

So why did it feel so right?

At least I thought that was what it was. I shook my head, trying to clear it, some weird little whine escaping my lips, and that wasn’t all.

I need you?

What the hell was that and where had that come from? I wondered about that, but my body had a ready answer. A wetness I’d never experienced soaked my dress, coating my thighs—something I’d only heard about in sex ed at school, in disgusted tones, with other beta women.

Slick.

My body was readying itself to take an alpha’s knot in the way only my kind could, just in case I needed further proof that I was an omega.

I hissed as I staggered out of the elevator, Jace in no hurry to follow.

There was no need now, not when he had me right where he wanted me.

I dimly saw the open plan living space with a big screen TV, a couple of couches, and the darkened doorway of a bedroom.

He smiled when I turned back to face him, a slow, feline thing.

That was what he seemed like, one of those big cats that paced back and forth in their cages in the zoo, but this one had been let out.

No, he had never experienced bars that stopped him from what he was doing, made evident when those massive arms reached up, grabbing the top of the elevator door frame, and surely he knew what that did.

Every muscle was on display, outlined by the mood lighting in the suite, making flesh the terrible power he carried.

He snorted when he watched me freeze like prey before a predator, dropping his arms and prowling closer.

“What… Why am I here?” I asked, which was bloody stupid in hindsight.

“You know,” he replied, strolling on up. I could run, try to get away, get around him, but I didn’t.

Because he was right—I did know. I’d asked for this, begged for this.

My feet were rooted to the floor and sliding outwards, slick was running down my thighs, my nipples felt like they were boring their way through my dress with every breath, and my cunt?

Not a nice word, not a decorous word, but the only one for this moment.

It flexed and clenched, sending little thrills of pleasure through my body, alerting me of what was to come.

Me.

My brain fought this idea and the absolute certainty in his eyes as he moved closer, his sheer bloody size becoming more and more apparent the nearer he got.

He threw a shadow over me as he came to a stop, so tall, so broad, so powerful that even the lights couldn’t get to me, just him.

His hand raised and he smiled as I watched its every move, but I didn’t run screaming, did I?

When I was a teenager, us girls had talked about what we’d do if approached by an alpha, their brutal ways often discussed in the media, shackled men being led into the courthouse often shown on the news.

We’d all assured each other we’d run, scream, call the police, fight him off with our beta ingenuity, but there was a little stun gun in my bag waiting there for me to use and I didn’t reach for it.

I reached for him.

“Mm…” A little purr of pleasure came from him as my hand splayed across one pec, my palm looking even smaller now, but this was quickly covered with his, lest I think about pulling it away.

But I couldn’t, could I? That rigid flesh, flexing slightly under my hand, then it all started to move.

He squeezed my hand for a second, then pulled away, jerking the tight singlet that hid nothing over his head and tossing it to the ground.

A low groan escaped my lips as acres of brown skin were revealed.

Both hands reached for him now, for a body I’d only ever seen on thirst traps on social media. A body of sheer perfection.

Hard muscles, ropey sinews, veins that throbbed under the skin.

I got closer and closer as I mapped each one, my breath coming in faster, which dragged his scent deeper into my lungs, making my head spin lazily.

For some reason, the waitress on the floor below and the hungry way she’d looked at my alpha sprung to mind, my fingers turning to claws now, raking across his flesh.

“Mine…” I ground out.

“Damn fucking straight, baby,” he rumbled, the time for inspection now over as his hands, then arms, wrapped around me.

I was tugged up close, so I could feel every bloody inch of this hard body and how damn ready it was for me, causing another whimper to fall from my lips.

Everything was going so fast, so hot, my mind struggled to get my head around it, but he had the answer to that.

A big hand went to the back of my head, pushing my face into the crook of his neck, where there was only him—his scent, his taste, my tongue flicking out to lick his skin, his low purr.

“Now I want to see you, the little omega who’s going to tell me what she needs.”

Tell him? Could I really tell this powerful alpha what I needed? Could I tell him that I was imagining myself sinking to my knees, looking up at him, and begging sweetly for him to feed me his cock?

A part of my mind, the lone remnant of my former beta nature, rebelled at that, stiffening, but he wasn’t having that.

His fingers tightened and kept me exactly where I was, forced to breathe his scent in, practically choking on it, which was only a foreshadowing of what was to come.

I struggled more earnestly now, but was I pushing him away or pulling him closer?

He paid me no mind, drawing down the zipper of my dress in a quick movement before he jerked away, letting the material, and my last shield from him, fall away

Eyes as hot as the sun took in everything I had, now on display, my dress pooling at my feet. I sucked oxygen in greedily, but that just made his smile turn positively feral, his eyes lingering where my breasts now heaved.

“Take them off,” he said, but with no alpha bark, so it was as much a suggestion as a command.

I could refuse and keep my hands by my sides, where they had now formed balls.

“Take them off and show me that beautiful fucking body that makes mine ache. I’m so fucking hard, Sloane.

Take them off, if this is what you want. If you want me.”

He stepped back, away from me, and I swayed a little like I’d forgotten how to stand without his support.

There I was, caught on the horns of a dilemma.

My arms shook with the effort of holding myself still, my mind racing, but why?

What did I want? My mind and body warred over that.

What had I said? That I wanted him to… I swallowed hard, then a weird little whine escaped my throat.

“Omega…”

His voice was deep, warm, and felt like dropping into a hot bath, and that was what I liked to tell myself to excuse what came next. My fingers shook as I reached behind, flicking open my bra clasp.

“Fuck, yes…” he purred, pacing exactly like a wild animal, wanting to come closer but refusing to do so, not until my fingers went to my underwear.

I shimmied the sodden fabric down and felt the lace drag on my skin, coated with my slick, when he decided he’d had enough.

His fist tightened around the scrap of cloth, wrenching it free before dragging it up to his nose.

I watched his eyelids flutter slightly as he took a deep breath, and for a second, he stood there, wavering, a boyish smile on his face, before his eyes flicked open, the dark colour there gone almost completely black.

“I need to taste that pretty pussy that smells so sweet, need to fucking gorge myself on you. I want you running down my chin and my throat, saturating me with your pleasure. And when you’re screaming for me, that’s when you’ll get what you need, what you’ve always needed deep down.”

“No…” I hissed, some of the old Sloane, not wholly colonised by whatever his touch had done to me, coming through.

Head cocked to the side, he studied me. “You asked for me, Sloane. Said you needed me.” I stumbled back. He watched me kick off my heels, standing there buck fucking naked, turning away from him.

“You want to run,” he said, like he could see right through me.

“It’s instinctual for an omega to want to test her chosen alpha.

I’ll still rut you. That’s a given, and you fucking know it.

You run, and I’ll make you wait. The dumb bastards have conditioned you to think like a beta, but I’ll make you realise that civility is only a facade.

You’re an omega, and you need an alpha deep inside you. You need me.”

He felt too calm, too in control, while I felt like I was on the verge of madness.

“No!” I cried, stumbling back, doing exactly as he said I would but unable to quiet the thrashing of my heart inside my chest. Adrenalin pumped through me, screaming at me, telling me I was in danger and I needed to get the hell out, every limb quivering.

Or were they?

My mind and my body were fighting what was happening to it and what was about to, then a knife-like twist of vicious pleasure inside me confused the issue, cutting deep and letting me know that would only get deeper if I went down this path.

But I couldn’t bloody stop, could I?

I turned around—my first mistake, putting my back to a predator—as I scanned the room, the elevator, him standing resolutely before that, arms crossed, a knowing smile on his face.

I took three steps towards the kitchen, thinking I could grab a knife and hold him off.

Yeah, that lasted as long as the next wet gush went sliding down my thighs.

The bedroom. I could run into there, slam the door shut, lock it, and call for help.

There were services, people who could get me out of here if I just?—