Page 12 of The Night Movers: Season One

Diesel’s mouth disappeared, his hand returning to the safety of Ridley’s waist. Anger flared, leaving Ridley seething.

Who did this guy think he was? Ridley knew they wanted him.

They were both rock hard, their erections pressing against him.

They had to know he was hard, too. They had to smell how much he wanted it.

“Now do you see why he’s dangerous?” Titus asked.

Ridley lurched forward, nipping hard at Titus’s scent gland. Titus’s fingers threaded in his hair, yanking him back with another heavy snarl. “Enough.”

Diesel wouldn’t say that. Ridley bet Diesel would be balls deep in him by now if not for Titus’s interference.

He wanted them both but he’d settle for one.

His omega would settle for one. He just needed a knot.

Any knot. He was so…frustrated. He wanted to know what it felt like to have an al pha splitting him open, what it felt like to have two alphas use him at the same time. What was so wrong with that?

“Dangerous or not, we can’t put him out on the streets,” Diesel said.

A wave of peace washed over him, making his eyelids flutter, that raw hunger ebbing like the tides. He was sleepy again. Ridley’s nostrils flared as understanding dawned.

Pheromones.

Both alphas were pumping out an alarming amount of calming pheromones, trying to convince Ridley’s brain everything was fine, that he was fine.

It was so…manipulative. He wanted to be furious but he just…

wasn’t. He couldn’t be. He was too sedated.

They’d rendered him powerless and there was nothing he could do about it. It was just how he was made.

How every omega was made.

When he was little, he’d thought it was romantic, alphas wanting to soothe their omegas when they were upset.

Until an older kid had told Ridley what that special little “gift” was really for.

Breeding. A way for alphas to trick omegas into lying still, not putting up a fight, forcing them to be a co-conspirator in their own assault.

Ridley giggled, then bit it back. It wasn’t his fault.

The longer Ridley laid there huffing alpha pheromones, the more soupy his thoughts became until being “drugged” by two alphas seemed like a gift, not an abuse of power.

The hazy spun cotton feeling was much better than the nightmare that had brought the two alphas to his bed in the first place.

He’d hoped they’d pin him down and use him up until he was too exhausted to move, to think, to dream.

Being fucked into oblivion seemed a better fate than the things happening in that nightmare world in his mind.

Was it a nightmare? Or someone’s fate. His fate? He clung tighter to Titus’s shirt, too high to be embarrassed by his clinginess. At least getting fucked would cover an awful vision with a pleasant memory.

Probably .

Despite his omega’s fantasies, Ridley didn’t know them.

These men were strangers. But his vision said he belonged to them.

How did they go from strangers to pack? Did it start with sex?

Was that why this desire kept igniting in his belly?

Would he fuck his way into earning a spot within the pack?

His cock kicked, dripping slick at the thought.

Diesel gave a sharp inhalation, his fingers digging harder into his skin, grinding his clothed cock against Ridley’s bare ass. “He’s naked under this shirt,” he rumbled, almost like it was new information.

Or maybe he was just reminding Titus of how easy it would be for them to take what they wanted from him. How easy it would be for Diesel to shove his clothes out of the way and press inside, forcing Ridley’s body to rearrange itself around the invasion.

“I know. I’m the one who gave it to him,” Titus managed, voice strained.

Diesel’s breathing grew heavier. “ Why is he naked if we can’t have him?”

If we can’t have him.

Have me. Have me. Have me.

Please.

“Do you think any of us had underwear that would fit him? He’s the size of a mouse,” Titus had shot back, sounding irritatingly pragmatic given the circumstances.

Ridley was losing his mind, his omega screaming to be fucked and bred while the two alphas talked about him like he wasn’t even there, like he wasn’t even part of their conversation. At least his current state of annoyance proved they’d stopped pumping out their stupid pheromones.

“I want him,” Diesel choked, burying his face in Ridley’s neck again, biting down on his scent gland hard enough to make him cry out, his body jolting.

The scent of his own slick had him blushing. He didn’t even know it was possible to release that much slick.

“Jesus Christ,” Diesel groaned, fingers biting into his skin hard enough to bruise. “He just soaked through my sweatpants. He’s so fucking wet. He obviously wants it, too.”

This time, when Diesel dragged Ridley back against him, he held firm, bringing Titus with him, sobbing when their cocks brushed against each other. Ridley felt minuscule in comparison to the two alphas. He was…proportionate. They were not.

“Ignore it,” Titus said through clenched teeth.

Diesel snorted. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one whose dick is literally drenched in the most delicious slick I’ve ever smelled.”

“It’s my dick he’s grinding on,” Titus countered, voice tense. “Besides, have we gotten to the point where we’re the ones taking advantage of omegas now? He’s not thinking clearly. He’s scared and has zero control over his own instincts. He can’t help what’s happening to him.”

“But he smells like ours,” Diesel growled, rolling his hips against Ridley’s ass, making him bite back a whimper.

“Whether he is or he isn’t, you still can’t have him. Not while he’s this out of it and not before we figure out what to do with him.”

Ridley wanted to tell him he should have a say about his own fucking future, but he never had a chance.

When he opened his mouth to speak, a gasp ripped from him as that searing pain from his nightmare returned, his internal organs all clenching at once.

His hands shot to his lower belly, pressing down hard in an effort to quell the spasms stealing his ability to think, to speak.

He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear. There was nothing but the pain.

Diesel’s hands were on him, gently prodding at his belly between Ridley’s splayed fingers. “What’s wrong, Strawberry?”

“It hurts,” Ridley gasped. “It hurts so bad. What’s happening to me?”

“Fucking hell,” Titus muttered, his rage palpable.

“What?” Diesel asked, sounding almost as panicked as Ridley himself.

“He’s in heat.”