by V T Bonds
When she hesitates as though she’s contemplating resisting, I use my other hand to gesture towards the sink. She follows me without a struggle, and I rejoice, sending gratefulness into her heart.
Warm water cascades down our joined fingers, and I use both of mine to caress every exposed centimeter of her hand. A half sigh leaks out of her before she can stop it, the soap adding a sensual element to my stroking. I keep my eyes locked on our hands as I work, afraid eye contact will send her back inside her defenses.
Turning off the water, I hold her hand up to the vent next to the sink faucet and turn the knob beside it. The warm air rushing over her palm makes goosebumps rise on her arm. Turning off the drier, I pivot her to face me and lace her hand up again.
When I lift my head, her lower lip trembles. Tears shine in her eyes, and confusion barrels into me from the link.
I brush my thumb along her bottom lip and deepen my lullaby, pushing reassurance into our connection.
She’s mine and I’m hers. She just hasn’t realized it yet.
Chapter Sixteen
Britani
This isn’t right. It should feel like a trap. I should be trying to get away from him, or fighting against him, but as each second ticks by, the urge to push him away recedes.
He’s starting to feel familiar, and not because of how he looks. I’d have remembered if I’d seen him before—not many tall, dark, and handsome men reside in Baseon.
At first, I was too guarded to connect the two sides of myself, too focused on saving myself from the harsh world to realize both women are me. Now the adrenaline has worn off, and I’ve eaten solid food and been properly hydrated, the feral side of me has eased. She no longer feels like a stranger either. I was meant to have her.
And this man—this Alpha—his actions puzzle me, but he’s shown me more kindness than even the gloved Omega who prepared me for inspection.
At the time, I was too guarded to see how my surroundings correlated with the emotions flowing through the connection in my soul. I see it now, and doubt has my mental guard wavering.
Is he the other heart I’ve been protecting?
But he was so rough and terse when he burst into my cell.
Part of me revels in his touch, and aches to beg for more of him. The other part wishes for solitude so I can search through this mess without an audience.
As he unwinds my other hand, apprehension and excitement thrums through my veins. His warm fingers ghost over my chilled digits, and the arousal in my abdomen increases.
The heaviness plaguing my core throbs, but feels lighter than before. With each gentle caress, the desire builds, but instead of feeling out of control and wild, I feel centered. This feels like a natural attraction, not something forced on me by a stranger.
His song weaves into my cells, becoming an intrinsic part of my being. His siren call lures me nearer, and the urge to run away fades.
I enjoy his touches, the joining of our palms electric. A shiver shoots down my spine as warm water trickles across our knuckles. I close my eyes and bask in the sensual glide of his hands against my sensitive skin.
Floating on a gentle current of beautiful desire, the feel of his lips brushing across my knuckles is too pure to ignore. I let my response flow from me, my slick dampening my thighs and a vibration filling my chest.
An obvious rumble enters his song, and I slip further into yearning. His divine voice makes my cells wake, and with his purr added, I’m enraptured.
The omega in me unfurls without qualms, blooming in happy eagerness. I agree with her—never has any man taken such marvelous care of me. Never have I experienced such tender touches.
As he twines the rope around my hand again, it no longer feels like a restraint. The heat of his lips hover within my bones, and the pressure of the bindings insulates my hand, allowing the sensation to linger. The sure hold is no longer an inanimate object, but an extension of his simmering display of attentiveness.
Calloused hands smooth up my arms, and my nerve endings spark in glee. The flesh not yet touched is impatient, demanding he skim faster, while where his hands connect comes alive.
I ache for him, and as his palms frame my face, the link in my chest warms. A pulse of wonder enters the line, and when I open my eyes, his face reflects the emotion.
As my cocoon crumbles, I admit this is the same man whose heart shares a connection with mine. No one could manipulate my emotions with my barriers up, and the reactions through the link correlate too perfectly for me to deny any longer. I can’t deny him any longer.
This is the male I am meant to keep.
His broad thumb strokes my right cheek, smearing the escaped tear, but he makes no other move. He stares down at me in awe and wonder, the link thickening now that I no longer stifle it.
I drown in his rich amber eyes, swept away by the intense emotions. Our purrs fill the air as our hearts mingle, but the connection doesn’t feel complete.
Worry slices through me as I realize what will perfect our bond. The thought of his teeth in my neck and his knot in my pussy scares me.
His purr lightens as he pulls me into his arms, and he resumes his humming.
His restraint is breathtaking. My core throbs from his wondrous purr, and my scent thickens the air, but he makes no move to take advantage of me. He comforts me instead, stroking my hair and pushing reassurance into my soul.
I calm, letting my mind focus on the here and now. If I think too much about what must happen, I will panic.
Time passes. I don’t know how long, but his petting hand digs fingers along my scalp, and I imagine myself melting into a puddle on the floor. As that puddle becomes so tranquil no ripples move along its surface, I note the incorrectness of the picture.
The floor is cold under my feet, and a puddle would quickly lose any warmth it possessed. I’m anything but cold, held against his hot, sturdy body. My ear presses against his chest, and the cadence of his heart echoes in my soul. I could listen to the steady thump for eternity.
His hands shift to my shoulders and he guides me to stand straight. Looking into my eyes, he tucks a silver lock behind my ear.
He ends his lullaby, and the quiet allows doubts to creep into my skull. Cupping my chin in one hand and holding my shoulder with his other, he inhales.
“I’m Kwame. What’s your name?” he asks, peering into my soul.
“Britani.”
His deep groan causes my pulse to quicken.
“Your voice is as beautiful as your purr. Tell me, Britani, have you always been omega?”
His melodious voice almost distracts me from his words, and the residual effects from his groan has my senses reeling.
When his eyebrow rises, I realize a few moments have passed and I haven’t answered him. I shake my head and his expression darkens.
“I felt you die. You were gone. I wanted to join you, even then. What do you remember?” Emotions color his words, and a trembling begins in my stomach.
I don’t want to talk about it. Not here, when I’ve found something positive to live for. Not with these disgusting smells rising from my gown, souring the heavenly mix of our pheromones. The memories are too fresh to revisit.
I shake my head, unable to stop the wrinkling of my nose and the tears filling my eyes. He bends down and leans his forehead against mine, and between his head on mine, his hands on my shoulders, and his ropes hugging my arms, I feel safe. Cared for. Protected.
The memories fade and my trembling eases. He hums a soft melody, and the accompanying rumble makes my lower abdomen tighten. Another whiff of grossness breaks the spell, and my nose crinkles again.
He kisses my forehead before standing to his full height. Opening my eyes, I see him give a pointed glance at my gown and the shower, then he meets my eyes.
“Time to wash,” he says, and I fight conflicting emotions.
Not giving me a chance to overthink things, he moves both hands to one of my shoulders and undoes the row of plastic snaps. I s
queeze my arms tight to my front, stopping the material from shifting down my body.
Ignoring my stance, he rotates to my other shoulder and unsnaps that row. With nothing to hold my gown to me, the back slithers to the floor with a quiet swish. My muscles lock, holding the front of my gown to my torso as terror ices my veins.
Eager eyes and invasive fingers resurface in my mind, and the hopelessness I felt during my first moments of cognizance steals my breath.
Soothing tones and a calm purr break their hold on me, and the snug ropes on my hands remind me I’m not alone. Not knowing when I closed my eyes, I reopen them and startle.
Where Kwame once stood is an empty space, no beautiful male to hold or comfort me. I stare at the shower in shock, expecting him to touch me at any moment.
Instead, his purr vibrates in my joints, soothing my aches and loosening my muscles. The rest of my gown slips to the floor. Turning my head over my shoulder to find him, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror over the sink.
While the silver hair and pale complexion is startling, the woman staring back at me is much more familiar than the last time I saw my reflection. Her haunted green eyes still hold a wildness that wasn’t there in my previous life, but I no longer see two separate women in one body. No, this is me, changed in more ways than I can recognize, but still myself.
Movement attracts my eye, and I focus on Kwame. He stands on the other side of the alcove, out of arms reach, with his hands fisted by his sides. He angles his chin toward the shower, and a silent command echoes through the link.
I gulp, his efforts to contain himself evident in his tight fists and gritted teeth. My feet carry me the three steps it takes to enter the shower, and I angle my shoulder toward him to see him better. Facing the controls, my brows scrunch together. I can feel his eyes roaming over my exposed flesh, the glass between us doing nothing to diminish my awareness of him.
My core clenches as I sense him moving closer, and the gentle current of desire from earlier sweeps through me. I shiver in the cold air, wishing he would warm me with his powerful body, focusing on what I want in this moment and pushing away my worries.
From the corner of my eye, I see him shuck his boxer briefs off his hips before he moves into the shower behind me. He leans around me for the controls, and my heart throbs in wonder as I watch his strong hands set the shower on the gentlest settings—a simple rinse with warm water.
He leaves the shower stall and I stand alone as steam rises from the water hitting the cold floor. Disappointment opens the way for bad memories.
Since when was solitude so terrifying?
Chapter Seventeen
Kwame
I close the glass shower door behind me and pick up our dirty clothes. Her magnificent curves tempt me to claim her, and I need a moment to get control of myself. Leaving the alcove and tossing the clothes into a compartment beside the built-in wardrobe, my frustration causes me to slam it closed. The loud crack booms through the room, and terror pierces my heart.
Not my terror, but hers.
In less than a second, I fling the shower door open and gather her stiff form into my arms. Cooing and stroking her hair, I send apology and love through our link. Long minutes tick by while she battles memories. Slowly, she begins relaxing into me, her face pasty white and eyes dull.
Focusing on breaking through to her soul, I let my hands roam and my song soothe.
When she manages to give me a weak response through our link, I sigh in relief. She opens herself up to me again, and our connection glows brighter.
Awareness of my surroundings return, and a groan escapes me. Her glorious breasts, pushed close together because of her bound arms, slide against my chest. Our pebbled nipples catch with every glide. The ropes binding her hands rub the edge of my shaft, nudging from my tip almost to where my knot forms. Her thigh rests between mine, her soft flesh bumping my balls and ratcheting up my need. Her plump ass fills my palms, the globes overflowing my fingers.
The sexiest little mewls puff against my jaw as she grinds her glorious pussy against my leg, and I want to snarl at the water for washing her slick away. Realizing one of my hands has woven into her hair, I force her head back so I can see her face.
A gorgeous flush makes her cheeks pink, and her pupils have enlarged. Her name leaves my lips, and a tentative smile enters her expression.
“Again. Say my name again,” she demands, and I gladly comply. Her groan of delight is my undoing.
I capture her mouth with my own, sucking and mock biting her lower lip until she opens. I invade her mouth, and when she stiffens, my growl rolls over us both.
Mine.
No one else is here but us. I will erase her bad memories and replace them with better ones.
I taste every centimeter of her mouth, stroking my tongue against hers, feeling her sharp canines, and probe deeper. Her tongue stops mine from exploring her throat, insistent in its need to dance with mine.
I pull back and our ragged breaths ricochet through the shower stall. When she leans forward in search of my mouth again, I tug her hair so she can’t reach. Her growl arrows straight to my primal Alpha instincts, and my body leaps out of my control.
Spinning and pushing her back against the wall, I use my left hand to pin her bound hands to her stomach. She wiggles and leans forward, demanding my mouth on hers.
Her slick runs down her legs as a ferocious growl rips from me, and my right palm wraps around her throat. I rub my cock against her slippery hip, tormenting myself while I show her who holds dominance.
She tries to chase after my lips again, but I hold her to the wall by her neck, licking the sensitive flesh as I warn her with another growl. When she whimpers in need, I open my jaw and tease her with my teeth until my hunger for her slick overrules my need for her submission.
With one hand holding her throat and the other pinning her abdomen to the wall by her bound hands, I drop to my knees and wedge my body between her legs. Shuffling until my knees touch the wall, I give her no choice but to spread her legs wide.
Her gorgeous folds are on full display, and the slick on her thighs make her legs slide on my torso. Unable to hold back any longer, I lunge forward and devour. Her entrance quivers as I plunder her depths with my tongue, and her slick makes my taste buds explode in ecstasy. I have no restraint left for teasing and playing. Each lick is to consume, every suck is to claim, every stroke is to take.
Mine.
Her river of slick gives more energy than any meal concocted by nutritionists. I lap it up as though I’m starving—I drink it down as though I’ve never tasted anything so sweet.
I haven’t. She’s heaven on my tongue, and as her muscles tense, I drive her higher and higher. Merciless in my strokes, I delve deeper and lash her clit every time I exit her divine pussy, setting a brutal rhythm.
Her cries bounce off the walls, and I lick her bundle of nerves harder in anticipation.
Her core tightens and a flood of slick pours into my mouth. I lap it up, more satisfied than I’ve ever been in my life. I relish her scream and bask in the flavor of her release. Our connection glows, and my awe overflows into her beautiful heart.
She starts gasping like she’s hurt, and I startle. I force myself to lean back, hating the empty space between my tongue and her wet heat, and look up.
Shit, my fingers are too tight on her throat. I loosen them, and her dazed eyes meet mine. Fearful I’ve gone too far, I search through her vibrant green irises for any negative reactions.
A dazed smirk plays on her lips, and the muted pleasure rolling through our link tells me she’s still floating in euphoria.
She’s fucking gorgeous.
My cock demands relief.
I surge up and claim her mouth with mine, rubbing my cock along every inch of her flesh along the way. She moans as she tastes herself on my tongue, and I pull back far enough to speak against her lips.
“Like how you taste, Britani?”
She nods, causin
g her soft lips to brush against me.
“You’re the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”
She shivers as her eyes dilate further.
“Want to taste me?”
Her gasp becomes panting, and she swallows as she nods again.
I turn my back to the water, swing her in front of me, and lower her down with the hand on her throat. When I don’t let go of her hands she bends her elbows, and her breasts pillow around her bindings. I thrust my cock against the soft mounds, enraptured by the difference in our skin. The contrast is startling, but more enticing than anything I’ve ever seen before, and she’s warm silk against my sensitive tip.
When I meet her eyes again, control slips further away from me and I spurt pre-cum onto her sublime breasts. Her nostrils flare as her eyes slip closed and a magnificent purr vibrates from her chest. My cock jerks as I grit my teeth, but more cum jettisons onto her delicate flesh.
I let go of her throat and sweep her hair up so I have a handle at the top of her head. Pulling her bound hands to the outside of my left thigh, I give her hair a small shake. She lifts her lids and fixates on my cock, trepidation sneaking into her expression.
I purr, too far gone for words. Her gaze moves up to mine and she searches my face. I feel her reaching through the link, testing different sections of my heart, and after a moment, the fear in her expression fades.
A surge of emotions too large to assign names springs into my heart, and I stare in wonder as she graces me with a smile. With half-lidded eyes and an open soul, she leans forward and extends her tongue.
My entire existence narrows down to her curious little mouth as she explores my manhood. I’ve never had an omega before, but most of the Betas I’ve slept with had skillful tongues. I’ve rutted and used countless females over the years, each one ready and willing to serve me.
Her hot, wet tongue is better than all of them combined. Unable to control myself, I flood her mouth before she does more than three experimental licks.
My release shoots from me before I even feel it begin, the pleasure of her attention too rapturous to hold back. After an unstoppable thrust deep into her tight mouth, I try to pull back, fighting my instincts to push past her tonsils and feel her throat around my shaft.