by J. A. Huss
He takes a deep breath, squints his eyes, and then opens them up and stares at me. “Lesson learned.”
“No,” I say, turning around and sitting up so I can see him better. “That’s not what I want to happen. How do I let you do that without making you sick?”
“We can work on it next time, Molly.”
“But—”
“Shh,” he says, the alpha back. “I made my decision. Enough of that.” He grins and winks. “I’ve got more, don’t worry. So lie face down on the bed.” I obey, ready to get back to the fun stuff. I hate making him sick. I hope we can get past the limits soon. “Spread your legs.”
Fuck. I never thought I’d admit this to myself, but I really love that alpha shit. And just to prove it, the wetness pools between my legs as I open them wider. A knee presses against my pussy and then his thumb is on my asshole and the rest of his fingers are splayed out across my cheek. I hold so still. I do not want to make him sick again. I’ve never had anal, but I’ve heard it’s both pain and pleasure and it makes me nervous.
“Relax,” he says, drawing the word out as he tests my limits by pressing his thumb even further inside me. “It won’t hurt. And maybe every guy on the planet says that the first time he takes a girl’s ass, but I have no choice but to make you love it, do I?”
What will it feel like to have that huge cock inside there? I stiffen at the thought.
“Molly,” he growls, “I said take it easy. I’m trying to make you feel good and you’re missing it.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll try harder.” I close my eyes, relax my shoulders, and pull my hands up and tuck them under my pillow like I do when I go to sleep.
He starts again, gathering more wetness from between my legs and dragging it up to my ass. The tip of his thumb slips in and then stops, but this time when the little shock of pain erupts, I relax even more and it fades.
“I love you,” Lincoln says from behind me. “And thank you.” He laughs. “I do not want to get sick every time I try to fuck your ass.”
I laugh a little at that. “Keep going.” And privately I’m excited that he’s an adventurous lover.
He pushes a little harder, and again there’s a slight shock to my system, but it fades when I force myself to be calm and open up to the idea. “Reach over and grab your lube from the drawer, Molly.”
“How do you know I have lube in the drawer?” I look over my shoulder to see his face and he’s shooting me a look.
“I’ve gone through this house from top to bottom. Several times. You do realize that the cameras are still here, right?”
“We’re making a sex tape right now?”
“We’re not turning them off,” he says, like the decision is final. I have no doubt that if I throw a fit those cameras will be turned off. But… it intrigues me. Heightens my desire and makes me want him to keep going even more. “I’m watching this later. And I’m gonna beat off to it in front of you.”
OK then.
“Now grab the fucking lube.”
I reach over to the top drawer in the bedside table and feel around until I find the tube.
“Good,” he says. “Take the cap off and squeeze it out on your asshole while I watch.”
Whoa. Maybe I’m crazy, or maybe I’m just caught up in this unusual foreplay, but I’m dying for him to fuck me in the ass right now.
“Fuck, yeah,” he says as I do as I’m told. “Drop it on the floor.” I do that too.
And then he repositions himself so his cock is pressing right against his thumb. He withdraws it, but places the tip of his head at the entrance. I gasp, then catch myself, not wanting to hurt him. I don’t want to make him sick when he’s trying his best to make it pleasurable. God, I never want to hurt him.
He pushes a little further, and this time I can’t help it. I double into myself again, but when he mimics me—when my hurt becomes his hurt—I take deep, deep breaths.
“Good girl,” he says, praising me after a few seconds of recovery. “Let’s try that again. Just stay calm and go limp, Molly. I promise you, I will bring you to ecstasy if you will just trust me.”
He enters me further, and I suck air through my teeth, but I don’t overreact this time. Another push, and for a moment I think I might scream and make him stop, but then he eases forward, and all the pain becomes—“Pleasure,” I whisper.
He laughs behind me, but he’s breathing hard so I can tell he’s still dealing with my last reaction. “The hard part’s over now. Everything else is world-rocking.”
He drops his chest to my back, lying across me, letting his full weight crush me to the bed in a way that feels comforting and suffocating all at once. But the gentle rocking begins. Slow at first. Long draws back, until I fear he might slip out and we will have to start the pain all over again. But he knows exactly what he’s doing and eases himself back inside before that happens.
I start panting, enjoying all the new sensations. All the pleasure that he gives me. All the pleasure, after all these years, is mine now. All those bad times are wiped away as we join together on this bed.
“Get up on your knees, Molly.”
I force myself up onto my hands and then lift my bottom up. His body follows my motions and he wraps his arms around my stomach and breasts, keeping me pressed up against his chest like he owns me. I sit up a little more, bracing my hands on the headboard when he begins to fuck me again. But then he yanks my hair, making my head rest back on his shoulder until I’m looking at the ceiling.
His hand comes up and a soft yellow-orange light radiates out from his palm. It flows up like the heat it emits and bathes me in a glow of passion. An intense vibration runs through my body, and he turns his head just enough to bite my earlobe and whisper, “Shhh. It’s just me entering you a different way, Molly. It’s just me feeling you. We’re connected by pain and pleasure. Every nerve ending in your body is energy that I can capture and experience with you.”
“I love it,” I gasp. My head is tilted so far back, I’m not able to breathe right, but that’s turning me on. He’s so in control. I’ve given myself to him. He owns me, body and soul.
“Now, gun girl, we finally get to fuck like we’re gods and goddesses. Like we’re princes and princesses. Like we’re hero and villain.”
“Do it, Alpha. Please,” I beg. “Take me.”
He does.
He fucks me from behind like that. And his fingers slip around to my pussy and start strumming while his other palm stays on my throat. His heat, his light, his power courses into me, knocks me down, and then sets me back on my feet.
We come together like god and goddess. Prince and princess. Hero and villain. We experience the divine like it was meant to be until he pushes me face first into the bed and comes on my back, his hot semen spilling out until he’s exhausted and collapses onto me. He automatically reaches out and wraps me up in his arms like I’m something precious. “You are my beginning,” I say.
“And you’re my end, Molly. Everything ends with you.”
“With us,” I say, correcting him.
“With us,” he repeats.
“You saved me, Alpha.”
“No,” he says, kissing me on the neck and biting my earlobe. “I didn’t save anyone. You saved yourself. And don’t you ever forget that. You’re the superhero with all the power and I am nothing without you.”
Get On Your Knees
Get On Your Knees
Chapter Thirty-Three - Lincoln
I watch her sleep. I watch the way her chest rises and falls and feel her life force in my arms as I hold her tight. It’s completeness. It’s wholeness. It’s a sigh of relief and a relaxation that I can’t describe because I have never experienced a moment quite like this one.
After we blew up the Prodigy School Thomas left Case and I on the side of the highway. He went his way and we went ours. It was too dangerous to show up back in Cathedral City together. Thomas was not… part of the system, so to speak. He was part of Prodigy from
the time he was born. He didn’t have a family like Case and me.
We never saw him again. We talked to him. Emails and phone calls. But that’s it. Case and I were picked up by a trucker on the highway when we left. And when we got back to town, we told his parents everything and told the authorities something else. We spun a story that was atrocious and heartbreaking. We are both of those things, so it never felt like a lie.
But everything we’ve done since then has been a lie.
Molly will find out sooner or later. She knows a little bit about the project, like who she is to me and what I am to her, but she doesn’t know any of the why. That’s what Case and Thomas and I have been hiding. The why.
Oh, she’s perceptive. This whole superhero fantasy she has, it’s cute. But she has no idea how close she is to the truth. It’s just not the truth she imagines in her fantastical delusion of superheroes, justice, and the rule of law.
I look down at her naked body. It’s not hot in here, the heat is not on, but I generate a great deal of heat from my hands. They bathe her perfect breasts in a glow of amber yellow and she’s sweating slightly from my touch. I lean down and kiss the top of her head, suddenly feeling possessive. She needs to come home with me. I can’t imagine not knowing where she is every minute of the day.
You should be ashamed of yourself, Lincoln.
I know I should, but I’m not. I want what I want and I have always wanted her. Prodigy did a good job on me, that’s for sure. I fell for her. I fell for her soft hazel eyes looking up at me when she was five. That’s when they started making her into my killer.
There was a long progression of experimental Alphas before Case and I came along. Decades of research and development. Decades of failures and successes. But no one, until Molly, had ever captured the heart of an Alpha.
Case hated his Omega. Thomas killed all of his—that inhibition shit never worked right on him anyway. That’s what makes him our leader. Thomas was a total failure at Prodigy, and if he wasn’t so important to the project, they’d have killed him before he turned ten. The inhibitor that prevented Case and I from causing harm to our Omegas never took effect on Thomas. Not in any way that mattered. He could kill indiscriminately and he never even had to be present. He was the first victim of Project Super-Alpha and his biological modifications are significant.
They shut down most of his emotional responses, most of his ability for empathy for example, and just about all of his give-a-fuck gene. That’s what I call it anyway.
If he’s been following protocol and injecting himself regularly over the years like Case and I have, then he can’t kill me. But he’d get damn far in the process if he wanted to. And who knows if he’s even been doing it? We haven’t seen him. He’s been a voice on a phone or words in a text or email.
But Case and I decided if we can’t trust him then we might as well give up. We need Thomas to complete this final act of revenge. So we take our chances.
Case and I were less extreme examples of Prodigy’s program. We have those same modifications, but at a much more controlled level. Thomas is not capable of caring and I wonder how he’ll react to me bringing Molly home.
Because she’s definitely coming home with me.
She stirs, as if she can sense that her life is changing as she sleeps. I kiss her head again. Thomas can’t take her away this time. I won’t allow it.
“Why are you still awake?” she asks, turning her body to face me.
“My hands are glowing. It bothers me.”
“So put your gloves back on and go to sleep.”
“No,” I say, kissing her mouth. “You said you liked to feel my touch and I want to give you everything you want.”
She smiles, her eyes still closed. “Hmmm. I love you,” she says in a sleepy murmur.
Hold that thought, I think to myself. Hold that thought, gun girl. Because I’m guaranteed to be one long string of disappointments. And even though I love her more than I love myself, I still have a job to do.
She slips back into her dream world where everything is perfect.
I want her there. That’s where she belongs.
But I have work to do. So little by little I inch away and let her go. And an hour later, when she finally rolls over onto her stomach and we break the last of our skin-on-skin contact, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and get dressed.
When I’m done I walk down the stairs and find my gloves on the kitchen table where I left them. I pull them on, dimming the light and feeling relief. I didn’t want to show Molly my hands, but it was an act of trust. It helped her believe in me.
I needed that. Tonight of all nights, I needed her to believe in me.
I grab the gun I stuffed under the sofa cushion in Molly’s living room and it connects with the magnetic plates in my hands and gives off a single chirp telling me that Sheila is engaged. I slide it into the waistband of my jeans, slightly relieved that she showed up. I don’t use it much. I don’t have to. I have my own way of killing people. But I like to have it and I like Sheila to be with me.
Sheila wants me to end this madness. She thinks Molly can save me. But she’s got it all wrong. Now is the time to step it up and the person being saved will never be me.
I walk out the front door and click the alarm on my car as I cross the street. When I slip inside, the computer comes to life and Sheila says, “Assignment commencing,” in what might be a weary voice.
Is that considered a human emotion? Weariness? They left a lot off that list if you ask me.
The car starts up and she pulls out, taking control of the vehicle as we head over to the other side of town where a man is about to get a phone call on his cell. We only have a few more on the list, so it’s just about over.
Sheila doesn’t want to help me anymore, but I don’t care. She can stop if she wants, but that won’t stop me. “Better to go down together,” she says through the car’s sound system.
“You got that right,” I say back. And then I take control of the wheel and head over to Atticus Montgomery’s house to watch the final act commence from a front-row seat.
Chapter Thirty-Four - Molly
“Oh, God,” I mumble, my eyes refusing to open.
“Don’t answer it,” Lincoln growls into my neck. “It’s bad news.”
But I have to answer it. I know from the ringtone it’s the station. So I reach over the bed, find my phone in the back pocket of my jeans, and tab the answer button, saying, “Yeah,” with my sleepy voice.
“Jesus fuck, Masters!” Chief yells. I have to hold the phone away from my ear, that’s how loud he is. “Get your ass into the station. We have crime coming out our ears!”
Beep, beep, beep.
I throw the phone down on the floor and it bounces off my pink chenille rug.
“Who was it?” Lincoln asks.
“As if you didn’t hear.” I chuckle. “But at least it’s not a body, so that’s good. I gotta go to work.”
“Not yet,” he says, squeezing my breasts with both hands.
“When did you put your gloves back on?”
“What?” he asks, biting my neck.
“You didn’t go to sleep with them on.”
“The light distracts me, Molly. I only took them off for you.”
“Oh,” I say, feeling his hard cock pressing against my back. “You’re so sweet.”
“So they say,” he says, sliding his fingers between my legs.
But I wriggle away from him and swing my feet over the side of the bed. “You can stay here for a while if you want. I’ll be gone all day, but if you want to keep sleeping—”
“Sleeping,” he says with a laugh. “I’m fucking you in the shower right now. Two birds, Molly. I like to kill two birds with each stone.”
“That’s morbid.”
“They say that too. Sweet and morbid go together like Alpha and Omega.”
I let out a soft, “Hmmph,” and get up to go start the shower.
Lincoln follows me, gr
oaning about the time. “It’s four-fucking-thirty in the morning.”
“Criminals don’t have bank hours, Lincoln. So neither do cops.”
“Fuck them, then.” He grabs my shoulders and squeezes past me in the bathroom, then turns the shower on. “They can all wait until we’re good and goddamned ready to start this day. Dead people don’t care.”
“You’re terrible.”
“You like me that way,” he says with a wink. My eyes drift down to his cock as he fists it in his palm, stroking himself to let me know I’m not getting out of this house without a fuck. “Now stop talking and get your naked ass in the shower so I can wash your hair.”
Wash my hair. He makes me tingle in the most unexpected ways.
I test the water with my fingertips, but it’s already hot, so I step into the shower and he follows, his fist pumping heartily now. I want to suck him off so bad. I want to make him come down my throat.
He clicks his tongue at me, like he’s reading my mind, and then he grabs the shampoo, takes a seat on the bench and points to the tile floor. “Kneel, gun girl.”
“Bike boy,” I say. “Will that be your superhero name?”
“Alpha,” he growls back. “If you’re going to make me into your hero, it will be Alpha. Everything I do comes back to Alpha.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” I say, wetting my head and body under the hot water and then kneeling between his legs. But my protest is half-hearted at best, because I can’t take my eyes off his rock-hard dick. He squeezes some shampoo onto my head and begins to massage his fingers through my hair.
Chapter Thirty-Five - Lincoln
She looks up at me from her submissive position on the floor, my cock pointing at her mouth, and never in all my years did I think I’d have my Omega so ready and willing. My fingertips move softly through her hair, the shampoo smelling of flowers and sweetness. The bubbles froth up and cover her scalp. “Suck me, Molly.”
Her mouth opens and I catch a glimpse of her pink tongue. It’s the same color as her pussy was under the light of my hands last night. She eases forward, eager, but not rushing it, and then her lips wrap around my shaft and she starts to suck. Her eyes are upturned, trained on mine. And the water from the shower head is hitting her in the back of the neck, spraying water onto her face. I watch it run down her cheeks like tears and have a moment of regret.