Page 158 of Drown My Sorrow

“You’re wet. Are you enjoying this, Omega?”

I shudder. “Yes.”

“Good. Then you’re going to like what comes next,” Shale growls.

I hear Kelly gasp and twist.

A hand slams into my shoulder, pressing me against the thin screening. “Uh-uh, you keep your eyes in front.”

Kelly pushes himself into me. I feel the stretch and whimper.

“Good, Omega,” Shale murmurs. “Now enjoy me fucking our alpha into you.”

A whimper escapes me, and I claw at the wall. I almost turn and look back again, but I just manage to stop it.

Kelly reaches around me, and I hear a humming sound.

“What-” I gasp, but I’m cut off when the vibration hits my clit. “Oh!”

I struggle to hold myself up. Shale keeps sending Kelly slamming into me, over and over. But Kelly is stroking my clit like he’s creating a love song on a guitar with that damn vibrator.

I lift an arm, but Shale stops.

“Put it back.”

I whine. “I don’t want to make noise.”

“You won’t.”

I pant and abruptly come with no warning. I throw my head back, but just like Shale says, I manage to keep all sounds trapped in my throat.

I cling to the wall, watching as a few sparkly-dressed people walk past. Ezy pauses in front of us and lifts a glass in a mocking salute.

Kelly leans in close and nuzzles my neck. “Round two.”

Chapter thirty-nine

Aspyn

AspynAged20

I open the newspaper and read it like I do every day, front to back, searching for a couple of names that I keep hoping I won’t find. I don’t know why I find them both today.

Kelly is on page five with a big write up about him. There are two guys on either side of him, and the newspaper caption reads that their names are Gael Dahan and Ezekial Boothe. I stare at them for a long time, but they mean nothing to me. All I focus on is Kelly.

I stroke my fingers over Kelly’s beautiful face and then carefully cut the article out of the paper and put it away. Four years, and I still feel every inch the rejected omega. I still want him to come rushing to my side and tell me it was a mistake.

I turn the pages.

Her name is where I least expect it.

Kathryn Montauk, beloved wife.

She married again, but not for long. I feel numb as I stare at her name even as the day drifts on by the dusk coming with a chill that fills my whole body.

My mother died.

I never got to ask why. Why did she do this? Why leave me here? Was I such a burden?

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