Her hips started moving again. Instinctively, they rocked back in forth in little circles. Her body seemed to know what she needed.
It was almost as though there was someone else inside her—another Faith who knew what she wanted and felt no shame. A Faith who knew how to move to satisfy her needs.
The alpha murmured his rumbling approval against her ear. The sensation was enough to make Faith's body convulse with another wet wave, drenching his fingers.
Troy tensed, and Faith bit her lip, embarrassment threatening to swallow her whole.
"I'm sorry," she said in a rush, releasing him and pushing herself up on her elbows. "I can't stop it from happening."
Troy laughed, a rich, sensual sound. "I don't want you to stop. I just want more."
He began moving down her body, kissing her through the fabric of her dress. She cried out when he teased her nipples gently with his teeth as if to prove that he was the one in control.
Too late, Faith remembered what he had promised to do.
Taste her.
She gasped as his head ducked down between her legs. Cradling her bare bottom in his massive hands, he lifted her hips up off the snow.
Faith fell back, helpless in his grasp. She'd thought he'd been bluffing.
No, that wasn't true—she had desperately wanted to believe that he'd been bluffing. But now it was clear that he'd meant every last word.
"Troy, don't," she begged, the wrongness of what he was doing suddenly eclipsing her urges, overcoming her helplessness. "This is—"
Sinful.
She was going to tell him it was a sin, to try to save them both.
But before she could open her mouth, his lips covered her in the most intimate kiss possible. Faith cried out as sensation took over. A shudder wracked her body when his tongue replaced his thumb, pressing and flicking with expert skill against that magical place.
The wet heat of his tongue and lips transformed and magnified the pleasure she was feeling, driving it to new heights. It was almost unbearable—and yet she not only bore it but ached for more, her back arching to invite him deeper, harder, not even knowing what could possibly come next.
Her eyes widened as she felt the pressure of his calloused fingertip against her opening, teasing, stroking.
"So fucking wet," Troy rumbled against her. "So fucking tight."
"P-please," she whispered. And a part of her knew exactly what she was asking.
She gasped as Troy increased the pressure of his touch, his finger breaching her flesh.
Her virgin flesh.
Instantly, Faith came back to herself, as abruptly as if she'd fallen to the earth from a great height.
She twisted in Troy's grasp as the haze of pleasure evaporated. There was a reason why she was so tight, why her body was resisting him.
Every intimate part of herself was pure…and it was supposed to remain that way for her husband.
For Peter.
Faith didn't love Peter. She wasn't even sure that she liked him all that much, but he was still her fiancé. Their marriage had been arranged over a decade ago, when they were both still children, and she had accepted it as fact. Just as she accepted the weather or the changing of the seasons.
She couldn't do this with another man, not even—especially not—an alpha. No matter how seductive Troy's voice, how skilled his tongue, how magical his touch—to allow this to happen would be breaking every promise she'd ever made.
The irrevocable truth was that Faith's maidenhood wasn't hers to give away. It had already been given, in a transaction recognized by her intended, her parents, her pastor, her church—by God himself.
"We can't do this," Faith cried out, struggling as hard she could.
The alpha's growl was no longer filled with sexy promise, just annoyance.
He didn't release her. His hands held her fast, pressing her hips to the ground. But he did lift his head just enough for Faith to look into those dangerous blue eyes.
"We can." Troy slowly licked the slick off his lips. "We are."
"No. You don't understand. I have a fiancé."
Troy didn't look impressed…or concerned. "Had," he said. "You had a fiancé. Now you have an alpha. Me."
He lowered his head again, emphasizing his point by laving his tongue against that sweet spot even more fiercely. Despite herself, Faith cried out at the shock of pleasure.
But apparently Troy still didn't feel he'd made his point sufficiently. He shoved his finger inside her, past the last of her boundaries, shattering her defenses and claiming her for himself.
Faith forgot to resist as she experienced the most sublime pressure she had ever felt.
Then Troy somehow slipped in another finger. Where there had been resistance before, now there was only hunger, her body eagerly meeting him in this dance. Faith's head fell back down to her pillow of snow as Troy's fingers found a primal rhythm inside her, strong and steady, working magic.
Every thought of Peter, of family, of the church, of the life for which she'd been intended—all of it flew from Faith's mind as something far more urgent took over.
With every second, the pleasure inside her grew, rocketing past the point of no return, becoming something that couldn't be denied.
Faith tangled her fingers in Troy’s hair as the sensations grew unbearable, a sharp ache spreading from her center. Her legs trembled, the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs scraping against his coarse stubble. Her body begged for something she didn't know or understand.
"Please, Troy," she heard herself say. "Please."
And then it happened.
The entire world shattered. Her body exploded around his fingers. Slick gushed from her harder than ever before. Every cell of her body was transformed into pure ecstasy, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and she lost control of everything but the moment.
When she thought she'd come apart, that she'd burst into a thousand pieces, the feelings shifted and changed. It was like coming out of the dizzying loop of a roller coaster, into the straight rails, the world still a blur outside of her. The raw need gave way to a lightness that made her feel like she was floating, while at the same time, she felt anchored to the earth by something even more elemental than fire or air.
Eventually, Faith struggled to open her eyes. Remarkably, she wasn't exhausted. Already her body was coming back to life, as though it wasn't ready for this to end. The reality of what she'd done would wait until later, stubbornly rejected for now by forces she couldn't control.
Before she could catch her breath, Faith found herself being lifted up into the air. Her legs were still wrapped around Troy's waist as he got to his feet, his strong arms holding her against him.
Faith flung her arms around his neck, even though she was somehow sure he wouldn't let her fall. She looked up into his face as he carried her back across the clearing, shivering when she saw that his jaw glistened wetly in the moonlight.
It was her wetness that did that. Her slick.
She bit her lip and resisted the urge to apologize again. The last time had only spurred him to go further, to do the unthinkable. And Faith wasn't ready to think about that, either.
Instead, she asked a question.
"Where are we going?"
He spared her only a brief, steely blue glance. There was a hardness in his eyes Faith hadn't seen before. A tension that grew stronger with every step he took.
But it wasn't anger that drove him. He was hungry.
Hungry for the same kind of pleasure that she'd just experienced. Ready to take it for himself.
That knowledge ought to send Faith into a panic. It ought to spur her to fight, to flee. It should take over her will with its urgency.
But it didn't. Something even stronger pushed back. The condemning, shaming, judging voice wasn't gone…not all the way, at least. Just subdued.
The magic of her devil alpha's touch was powerful.
"We are going to my bed," Troy growled. "A quick roll in t
he snow is fine, but after a few hours, you'd get frostbite. I'm not about to let that happen to my omega."
Hours?
"Wait," Faith said. "You mean we're not…done?"
The look Troy shot her this time was downright ravenous.
"Oh, little girl," he muttered, "these winter nights are long, and we're just getting started."
Chapter Seven
When Troy threw open the door, he was pleased to find that a bit of warmth remained in the house, the embers of the afternoon's fire still glowing in the hearth. It would help him warm up his omega, bringing color back to her cheeks and working the stiffness from her fingers and toes.
He wanted her ready for the heat she would soon experience in his bed.
Troy held Faith a little tighter as he closed the door behind them and carried her through the front room. He'd had only a taste of her passion, and already he was feeling protective of her.
He would have to be made of stone not to want to shelter her and keep her for himself when she tasted as sweet as she did. His hunger for her was raging out of control.
And deep down, he knew she felt it too.
Faith wouldn't admit it—not yet. She was still giving off a deep tangle of emotions, and it only grew more complex with each passing second. It angered Troy that she had been forced to feel shame and guilt and embarrassment—all the expected bullshit that came with a lifetime of living under strict rules and supervision. The people she'd known before, her beta family and community, weren't worthy of her.
But beneath those negative emotions, there was more to Faith. So much more.
The need and desire she'd been forced to hold back for so long were finally starting to bubble up to the surface. He could sense her craving for pleasure, for fulfillment, for release.
Troy knew how to sate that kind of hunger.
At first, he hadn't been thrilled with the prospect of a virgin omega. He'd never bought into the line of crap about women saving themselves for marriage. He saw the beta obsession with purity for what it was—just another way for beta men to control their women.
There was nothing impure about sex. Nothing dirty about pleasure. Passion didn't defile people—if anything, it made them stronger. More confident. More sure of who they were and what they wanted out of life.
No wonder the betas fought so hard against it.
And there was no doubt that Faith’s church had gotten deep into her head and wreaked havoc, robbing her of her natural feelings and replacing them with punishing self-hatred. Right now, his poor omega was so conflicted between what she believed and what she was feeling that her body was shaking with tension.
But Troy was about to make everything crystal clear.
Faith raised her head as he stepped inside his bedroom, tightening her grip around his neck when she caught sight of his carved redwood bed.
"I can't do this," she whispered, but there was no fight in her voice.
Her words had none of the vitriol from when she'd resisted him back in the truck. These words were just the shadow of the things she'd been forced to believe, the cocoon that would be left behind when she finally grew strong enough to emerge into the sun.
Troy knew what would help her get there—and it wasn't tenderness. He instinctively understood the paradox of Faith Johansen: to find her strength, she needed to be overpowered first. To become free, she first needed to willingly enter captivity.
He couldn't wait to give her that. He ached for it.
"Yes, you can," he told her sternly as he laid her down on the mattress. "Now, take off that fucking dress."
Faith's eyes widened, something dangerous sparking in their depths. Her lips parted with a little gasp, but no words came out. She was no longer insisting that he was the devil for demanding to see her body. She only shook her head weakly.
Obviously, his omega needed some inspiration.
Troy peeled off his shirt, flexing his arms as he threw it on the floor. Faith's mouth dropped open at the sight of his naked chest.
Good. She liked what she saw.
A rush of pride mingled with Troy’s urge to protect her, but neither emotion made a dent in his desire. Faith's body was so small in comparison to his—no more than half his size—but he could see in her eyes how eager she was to take him in, to feel the delicious heat of his bare flesh against her own.
No. Not to take—to be taken.
And he would take her farther than she'd ever dreamed.
Just as soon as she took off that damn ugly sack, a garment designed as much to shame her as to protect weak, spineless beta men from their own urges.
"This is the last time I'm going to tell you to take off your dress," Troy growled, moving to the edge of the bed and looming over her.
Faith's tongue wetted the bow of her lips in a nervous gesture, her eyes never leaving his chest, as though he was some kind of damn statue in a museum. "But—"
"Now."
The truth was that Troy didn't know how much longer he could stand to wait. Either she was going to do what he said, or he was going to have to rip her clothes into shreds.
Just as he'd done with her panties, which now lay in the frozen field in front of his house slowly being covered with snow, where they would probably stay until the spring.
The memory of the taste of her sweet pussy made Troy's cock surge with blood, pressing painfully against his zipper, begging to be freed.
Without thinking, he stroked it through the fabric of his pants. Faith's eyes grow wide, and she skittered back on the bed.
She had to know by now that he didn't bluff. That he meant every word he said.
Troy kept stroking himself as Faith knelt on the bed and lifted the hem of her dress with shaking fingers. He resisted telling her to move faster as she slowly lifted it up over her head, then laid it next to her on the mattress.
She didn't meet his gaze. Instead, she shrunk into herself, covering as much of her beautiful pale, creamy skin as she could by crossing her arms.
Troy wasn't having it. His patience had run out. He pushed her down on the bed and reached for the front clasp of her dowdy white bra. He didn't bother unhooking it—his omega would never be forced to wear something so ugly again.
Instead, he ripped it open and yanked it off. For good measure, he threw her dress on the floor too. Later, he'd burn them both.
Then he stood back so he could take in every last inch of his omega.
She was beautiful.
For a moment, Troy's raging need was overshadowed by something like reverence. It didn't matter how much of her nakedness Faith tried to cover her with her hands. It would never work.
No matter where he looked, he saw something he wanted—the rosy pucker of her nipples, the curve of her belly, the swell of her hips. The air was heady with the scent of her slick, which glistened in the soft light of the single lamp as it streamed down her thighs. He opened his senses fully to her, drinking her in, memorizing her, cherishing her.
Then his cock surged again, demanding attention.
Troy clenched his jaw as he unbuttoned his pants, stifling a growl. The weight of his cock pushed the zipper down, the shaft heavy in his hand.
Faith gasped at the sight.
She covered her face with her hands, grimacing in apprehension and fear. But it wasn't long before curiosity won out, and Troy caught her peeking through her fingers.
Well, as long as she was looking, he might as well give her something to watch.
Slowly, he stroked his hand along his hard length, cupping the head with his palm before sliding back down to the base.
Her eyes opened wider.
Troy gave himself a couple more strokes but soon grew tired of the feeling of his dry palm. He slid his hand over Faith's pussy, plowing through her slick until it dripped off his fingers.
He returned his hand to his cock and bathed it in her sweet, wet heat.
Troy's eyes drifted closed as he savored the feeling. His head fell back, a guttural rumble sh
aking the walls.
When he lifted his head, he found Faith gaping at him with a mix of intrigue and horror. "You're too big. You'll never—it's impossible—that won't fit inside me."
Troy laughed. How quickly she'd gone from I'd rather die to It won't fit.
She'd been wrong then.
She was wrong now.
"My cock was made to fit inside of you," he said tightly, lust straining his voice. "Just like your sweet pussy was made to take every inch."
Her face flamed at his crude language, but Troy knew that making her squirm in discomfort only inflamed her need further.
Wrapping his hand around the back of her neck, Troy guided her head forward, bringing her to her knees. He didn't force her, but he didn't allow her to pull away either.
"Don't be afraid," he told her. "Take me in your mouth."
She opened her mouth to protest, but no sound came out.
For a long moment, she simply stared at his cock, her fingers twitching. Troy could sense her gathering her courage.
He forced himself to wait, his hand stilled in her hair, knowing his patience would be worth it.
After an unbearable pause, Faith leaned forward and flicked her tongue out. Just once, testing him. Tasting him.
A shudder wracked his body in response.
That taste was all it took. Troy's greedy little omega fell on him, wrapping her hands around his shaft as her omega nature overwhelmed the last of her hesitation. Each passing second transformed her, lust overtaking reason and goading her to give in to her instincts.
She opened her mouth wider and tried to take his cock inside, but her jaw was too small and his cock too big. When it came to her mouth, Faith had been right—Troy just wouldn't fit.
But that didn't stop her. The need to please him would not be denied. Faith laved and stroked him, moving her small hands in imitation of what he'd shown her, making little excited sounds and grinding her pussy against her heels.
His omega was a quick learner.
But he hadn't brought Faith into his bed for a simple blow job. He wanted all of her.
"That's enough," he told her, but she didn't stop. She behaved as though she hadn't even heard him.
Troy (The Boundarylands Omegaverse Book 5) Page 5