The Sacred Omegas: Book One - December

by Merel Pierce

  She could also smell food. Something fried and rich. Fruit and coffee too. Her mouth began to water, her stomach grumbling its interest loudly. She stretched long and deep, begrudgingly submitting to consciousness as she gave the pillow a final sniff. The last whiff sent a twinge between her legs, and December cursed as she realized why.

  She rolled over and opened her eyes, staring up at the canopy of Nikolai Petrovski’s bed, his scent saturating the linens and her own body. She wrinkled her nose and groaned as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. When her eyes lit on the very man himself where he perched silent as a sentinel on the edge of the bed, December frowned.

  His expression altered when their eyes met, the look of predatory observation he’d bore melting into something more deceptive and charming when he smiled at her. “Good morning, little wolf. Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes,” she snapped, annoyed that he was cooing at her as though he hadn’t humiliated her the night before with his perverted games. In truth, her own behavior was really the more humiliating part of that scenario, not that she’d admit it out loud. December sighed.

  She’d been hoping to wake and find him gone, so she could ruminate on her bad luck without distraction. No such luck, apparently. When he quirked a brow in silent question, December pursed her lips and averted her gaze, amending her former statement with a reluctant “Thank you.”

  The male hummed, seemingly appeased.

  “Are you hungry?”

  She nodded, “Yes, actually.” Nikolai’s smile widened as he unfolded himself from his perch and moved to retrieve a footed tray from a table nearby that she’d swear wasn’t there the night before.

  December craned her neck, her stomach flip flopping joyfully at his approach, longing to see what smelled so delicious. Last night’s dinner was the first proper meal she’d had in as long as she could remember, and it had been glorious. The idea of another full belly gave her hope that the day might not turn out as badly as she thought.

  The male deposited his burden to her lap, forcing her to sit up straight when he began adjusting the pillows behind her. She watched him uncertainly, waiting until he lowered himself into a neutral position at her side before turning her attention to her plate.

  “Please, eat.”

  “It smells good,” she murmured, engaging him at a minimalistic level for the sake of keeping the peace. “What is it?” She tilted her head curiously as she gazed down at the two fried patties on her plate. She lifted the silverware as she waited for his reply, poking gingerly at one of the golden crusted chunks.

  “Draniki.” When she sent a questioning glance his way, Nikolai smirked. “Potato pancakes filled with seasoned meat and cheese.”

  December’s eyes widened as she looked down the fried food with a new appreciation. “Potato pancakes.” she repeated, cutting into the first patty daintily as if to avoid squishing the contents. Steam escaped the mashed spud casing as she pierced it, cheese oozing from between the spaces in the ground meat when she exposed its innards. She licked her lips as she finished portioning out the first piece, greedily stuffing her mouth full of a too large bite.

  She hissed when the morsel burned, covering her mouth and squeezing her eyes shut with a whimper. Refusing to spit it out and acknowledge her foolishness, she sucked air between her fingers to cool the scalding potatoes that coated her tongue. She ignored the pain, stubbornly continuing to chew the heavenly concoction as her head dropped back against the pillows.

  “You are a silly girl.”

  She grunted at his amused observation, too distracted to pay the looming male any mind. Instead, she dissected the rest of the patties hurriedly, hoping the pieces would cool as she continued shoveling them into her face. The strange hiss and puff of her breathing continued until all the steaming food was demolished, and her tongue tingled and burned.

  When the mutilated patties were finally gone, she turned her attention to the grapes and pieces of melon resting in a small bowl on the edge of her plate. She made quick work of those as well, grateful for the soothing effect the fruit had on her abused mouth. When she was finally finished December heaved a contented sigh, the action drawing a chuckle from the alpha at her side. She slid a coquettish look his way, smothering a small belch behind her hand.

  “What?”

  “I suppose no one could ever accuse you of being wasteful,” he mused. “But your table manners are atrocious.” December pursed her lips.

  “Well I’m not sitting at a table, so…”

  Nikolai wagged a finger at her in warning. “Be careful how you finish that sentence. It is unwise to bite the hand that feeds you. Most especially if you wish to continue being fed.” Despite how her stomach fluttered at the threat, December rolled her eyes obstinately.

  “Mmkay, well. I need to go to the bathroom.”

  She sat her tray aside and threw back the covers, attempting to scoot around him in a bid to climb off the bed. His arm shot out to bar her path, a fist pressing to the mattress on her far side as he caged her in. “I enjoy your spirit, sweet girl,” he murmured as he brushed a light kiss against her temple. “But I find it strange that you feel it is acceptable to continue disrespecting me, as you are well aware of my reputation.” Sensing an undercurrent of tension in his tone, December took a moment to consider him more carefully.

  “I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”

  Nikolai snorted, his free hand moving to press against the base of her skull and hindering her ability to put any distance between them before she could attempt escape. Strong fingers tightened against her nape, urging her to look up at him.

  Sucking in a nervous breath, December forced now wary eyes to meet his own. He rewarded her compliance with another wolfish grin, though his expression was markedly darkened by the underlying violence that seemed to be floating closer to the surface of his facade than she was comfortable with.

  “Yes, you did,” the rumbled accusation was confident. There was no room to argue the point, judging by the look in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” She hurried to apologize, averting her eyes again and slumping her shoulders in what she felt was a sufficiently submissive response. Unfortunately, the alpha didn’t seem as keen on buying her feigned display as he had been the night before.

  “You aren’t. But you will be if you continue to entertain this misguided notion that because I desire something from you, I will allow you to behave like an ill-mannered child.” He tilted his chin, sighing what sounded suspiciously like disappointment as he nuzzled at her throat. “I would prefer our time together be pleasurable for both of us. But the truth is, what I require from you depends neither on your happiness or compliance to be successful.”

  He dipped his head, catching her parted lips in an unexpected kiss. He crushed her mouth with his own just long enough to leave her breathless and dizzy when he finally pulled away.

  With the male’s taste on her tongue, December’s indignation cooled considerably. Her muscles relaxed and her back arched in an unconscious desire to be closer to the suited man, whose scent was teasing her nerves sluggishly to life. Nikolai’s smirk returned as he studied her expression, seemingly pleased by what he saw. “Your eyes are dilating, little wolf.”

  She blinked, momentarily confused by the statement. When she realized what he was implying, she tried to sit back, clearing her throat with embarrassment. Instead of allowing her to retreat, he held her firmly in place. “I enjoy your lustful nature. Undoubtedly this whole endeavor would be much easier for you if you simply allowed yourself to enjoy what I can see comes quite naturally to you already.”

  Her expression soured. “I’m not a slut,” she countered unhappily, insulted by what she thought was meant as a slight against her. The alpha pressed another light kiss to her pouting mouth.

  “It was a compliment, sweet one.” December found herself both disappointed and relieved when he rose from the bed, straightening the sleeves of his navy-colored suit jacket as he stood b
efore her. “Rest. I will return in a few hours with your lunch. In the meantime, please use this time to review all that you know of me and consider whether my treatment of you has truly been so horrific that you are willing to risk worse by testing the limits of my patience with your trivial protests.” His chin tipped up, handsome features twisting with arrogance as he appraised her from above. “I suggest you choose your battles carefully. This is not a war you are likely to win.”

  She resisted the urge to huff as he turned to go. He wasn’t wrong, after all. She needed to pick her battles. Bearing that in mind, she forced herself to clear her throat, catching the retreating male’s attention. He paused, his fingers lingering over the brass knob of the door as he glanced back over his shoulder. “Yes?”

  December fidgeted, feeling awkward about the prospect of being polite to a man that was holding her prisoner. “Thank you for breakfast. It was good.” Why it was so difficult for her, she couldn’t say. It wasn’t as if she were unaccustomed to telling men what they wanted to hear. But somehow, conceding the same to him was different. Nonetheless, the gamble was successful. His eyes softened just a fraction, his chest expanding subtly under her praise.

  “I am glad you enjoyed it, though I find it difficult to believe you had an opportunity to savor the taste, considering how quickly you inhaled it.” December shrugged her shoulders at the man’s scolding, offering him a coy, almost guilty smile.

  “I’ll work on it.”

  “Is there anything else?”

  Her confidence bolstered by the successful first attempt at apple-shining, she tried again. “Um, yes. Would it be alright if I took a shower?” She asked as sweetly as she could manage, scratching at her scalp purposefully while she spoke. She didn’t want to make it obvious she was eager to wash his scent off, even though she was. “I feel itchy.”

  She chewed her lip as she watched him consider the request, his eyes sliding down her body in a slow, heated perusal that left no doubt about the direction his thoughts had taken. December’s stomach clenched, heat creeping up her middle as his gaze finally returned to her face. Even from a distance she could see the black of his pupils eating up real estate in his irises, and she swallowed hard against the excitement that tightened her throat. Already, she could feel wet heat bubbling between her legs.

  “I mean, if that’s not a problem,” she squeaked, desperate to break his focus before he changed his mind about leaving.

  He blinked, and suddenly the spell was broken. His body language went stiff as he jerked open the door, muttering a brisk “That’s fine,” as he left the room and slammed the wooden portal closed behind him. The dull sound of the lock clicking outside startled her, and she scowled after him for several moments before expelling a sigh and falling backwards on the bed.

  “Yeah. You’re going to be a problem, Mr. Petrovski,” she muttered to herself as she gazed up at the framework above her, annoyed that such a small change in the male’s demeanor had triggered her own arousal. It was good that he’d approved her shower, because with as dirty as she felt she’d be taking one with or without his permission.

  “Ugh.” December pulled a nearby pillow over her head and smothered a frustrated scream in the cotton, kicking her feet as she gave herself over to a childish tantrum.

  ***

  She spent more than a third of the time he was gone locked away in the bathroom. More specifically, in the shower. She stood under the steaming spray for ages, scrubbing away at herself with a loofah and the unscented soap he’d left until her skin burned and flushed an angry red. When she was finally satisfied that all traces of him had been removed, she resigned herself to the tub to think.

  She sat beneath the warm rain for some time, brooding about how wrong things had gone for her. Admittedly she’d known better than to try to steal from a monitored facility, but she’d foolishly done it anyway. She supposed there really wasn’t anyone to blame but herself.

  Strangely, she almost felt relieved. Months of physical discomfort had made her paranoid, and by the time she’d been picked up, December was convinced she had some awful, terminal disease. Of course, she wasn’t exactly wrong. Being an omega in a world run by alphas always had the potential to be a fatal condition. Even still, last night she’d felt almost hopeful when he broke the news.

  He’d removed the source of her pain and sickness, and all it would cost her was a couple months of being used like a sex doll and potentially serving as an incubator for the bastard’s child if he managed to impregnate her.

  The first part of their agreement she could handle. Hell, she might even be able to enjoy being a house pet for a while. But the second part? December grimaced. She’d have to find a way to escape before he got her pregnant. If she knew anything about Nikolai Petrovski, it was that once he got his hooks into you…you were done.

  If his physicians were right about her dynamic status, then she wouldn’t be able to help the motherly devotion she’d feel to any child she bore. She was willing to bet that he knew it, too. It was likely he planned to use those instincts to keep her obedient and cooperative until his child was old enough not to need its mother. She was doubtful that after she lost her usefulness he’d stay true to his word about finding another alpha for her. Not that she wanted one.

  What if she had a girl instead of the boy she imagined he wanted? She didn’t want to think about what would happen if she bore a female child first. There were too many possible outcomes, and they were all varying degrees of unpleasant or horrific.

  Escaping him would be nearly impossible right now, given how little she knew about where she was being held or what kind of manpower was waiting outside the door. Getting out of the city would be even harder. But December was clever, and nothing if not determined. She would bide her time. She’d allow the alpha to take what he wanted, giving it to him willingly in the hope that his ego would be appeased; he wouldn’t notice when she started plotting and scheming behind his back. Satisfied that she had come to a decision, she let herself relax.

  What she didn’t realize was that while she thought about the man, her hand had begun moving towards the apex of her thighs. While she considered the pregnancy he wished to impose, she’d begun rubbing herself. When she resigned herself to the idea of submitting to his desires, her own fingers had pushed inside the wet heat of her sex. December’s own moan broke through the odd haze, startling her. She frowned when she realized what she’d unconsciously begun to do. “Jesus…” She froze with her fingers still inside of her body, glaring down in disapproval.

  The act itself wasn’t alarming. Nikolai hadn’t been wrong, assuming she was a sexual person. She was. But the fact that she’d started masturbating while she was thinking about him was concerning. “It’s the hormones,” she assured herself, trying to quell the sense of unease that was rearing its head. “It’s just the freaking hormones.”

  Apparently washing his scent off hadn’t helped as much as she hoped. Dismally, it registered that she might be closer to her heat than either the doctors or her captor thought. “Well, that’s just great.”

  She started to withdraw her fingers but paused when the innocuous action sent little pulses of pleasure through her inner channel. She was more sensitive than usual. Another side effect of the “favor” he’d done her by removing the implant, it seemed. She flexed her fingers again, shivering when a jolt of heat made the muscles of her stomach tighten. “Oookay. This is lovely. Very convenient.”

  December took a deep breath, holding it in spitefully as she tried to decide what to do. She shouldn’t be masturbating in the shower of her “prison.” But it wasn’t very likely that she’d be able to do much thinking if her arousal became as overwhelming as it had last night, either. It wasn’t as if there was anything for her to do while she waited for him to come back, anyway. When her head began to throb for lack of oxygen, she growled and let the air out in a whoosh. Her shoulder slumped, and she let herself sink lower in the tub.

  She allowed her kn
ees to fall apart and pressed her fingers deeper into her body, biting her lip as she tried to ignore the nagging sense of guilt she felt at giving in to her desire for a man she shouldn’t want. Her body hummed to life almost immediately under the attention, and she couldn’t help marveling at how quickly the pressure began to build as she worked her fingers back and forth inside her pussy.

  It had never, ever been this easy before. It seemed like a strange blessing, that. She wouldn’t have to feel ashamed for long. At this rate it would be over before she knew it. “It’s just to take the edge off,” she muttered in justification as she closed her eyes and gave her full focus to finding the orgasm he’d deprived her of last night.

  Chapter 6

  December emerged from the bathroom feeling slightly better than when she’d gone in. The combination of a shower and an orgasm seemed to be just the right thing to lighten her mood. The only downside was that now her body seemed eager for more. But, as frustrating as the smell of her own arousal was, it was certainly more tolerable than the scent of his.

  She pulled the oversized towel more tightly around herself as she ambled towards the dresser, hoping to find something to wear that wasn’t already saturated in the male’s scent. Rummaging through the drawers produced a suitable t-shirt and a pair of boxers. Both were too large, but the swell of her hips would keep the ill-gotten underwear up, and the shirt covered her sufficiently. To her relief, they both smelled of fabric softener, not musk. She wrapped the towel around her shoulders now that she was clothed, wearing it like a shawl to keep the wet hair off her neck as she allowed herself to look around the room with fresh eyes.

  Not much had changed since the night before, save the addition of the small table next to the Victorian armchair in the corner where a coffee carafe and cup occupied its mahogany surface. As there were no windows, it was difficult to say what time of day it was. She had no idea what kind of schedule he kept, so his leaving to tend business didn’t help her much on that front. She purposely avoided the bed, ignoring the bunched sheets that were stained with the evidence of last night’s perversion and saturated in his essence.