Page 14 of Omega on Fire

Reaching for the lube, Teagan coats his fingers, eyes never leaving mine as he spreads my thighs wide and presses one finger into my eager hole. I gasp, body tensing, but he's patient, preparing and working me open. He adds another finger, scissoring them, stretching me. I moan, writhing, ready for him.

“Such a good boy for me, taking my marks. Nowyou’ll take it while I pump you full of my cum,” Tegan purrs as he removes his fingers, making me groan from the absence.

Adding more lube to his throbbing dick, Teagan lines himself up and notches my hole, pressing into me slowly. We both sigh in pleasure, my body stretching wider with each inch to accommodate him. When he finally starts to move, the thrust slow and deliberate, I’m lost. My eyes flutter shut with each brush over my prostate. We're connected, bodies moving as one. Freed from needing to think, I just feel.

Leaning down, he captures my lips in a fierce kiss. I moan into his mouth, body on fire. He's everywhere, consuming me, controlling me.

"Cum for me, J," he orders, voice a low growl.

And I do. I come undone, body convulsing, my release explosive. He follows me over the edge, body tensing, painting my insides with his release.

We lay there together, both spent and breathless until Teagan leaves the bed and returns to clean me and tend to my marks. When he is satisfied that I’m okay, he gathers me in his arms, holding me close until my breathing calms.

"Sleep for me," he whispers. "We have about anhour left before we land. You can at least get a power nap."

I let my eyes close, pushing away thoughts of the woman we're trying to save. Instead, I let Teagan remind me that I’m his, that I’m alive and whole.

Then, I fall asleep.

CHAPTER 7

CHARLOTTE

My head throbs, pulsing with each heartbeat as consciousness creeps back. The concrete floor beneath me is cold, unforgiving against my naked skin. But the poor excuse of a bed is worse, so the floor will have to do. I don't know why I thought someone would come and return what was left of the dirty clothes I've been wearing for weeks. I'm not surprised they've left me naked, cameras still recording in the corners, giving the assholes of the world one hell of a show. It's debasing, humiliating, but nothing like witnessing me being taken against my will. Regardless of my body’s natural proclivities, rape is fucking rape. I squeeze my eyes shut, refusing to remember. Refusing to feel. Not yet.

"Help! Please, somebody help me!" A voice breaks the silence, feminine and terrified.

I force myself to move, crawling toward the heavy metal door of my cell. Each movement sends daggers of pain through my body, but I make it, pressing my face near the gap at the bottom.

"Hey," I whisper, my voice barely there. "Hey, I hear you."

The sound of sobbing on the other side hitches. "Who—who's there?"

"I'm Charlotte. What's your name?" I ask, keeping my voice as inviting as I can considering my own circumstances.

"Reya." Her voice cracks. "Where am I? What is this place?"

Before I can answer, someone hisses from another cell. "Shut up! Both of you! Just shut up!"

"They'll hear you," another voice warns. "They'll come back."

But I can't stay quiet. Won't stay quiet. These bastards might have taken my clothes, my dignity, pervasively invaded my body, but they haven't taken my voice. "Reya, listen to me. You're not alone. There are others?—"

"Others who want to live," a male voice interrupts, hollow and defeated. "I'm Patrick. Been here. . .two months. Three? Lost count after they started. . ."

The silence that follows is heavy with his unspoken horror.

"The things they do to us," Patrick continues, voice barely a whisper. "The heats they force, the. . .the breeding examinations. Sometimes I pray they'll just kill me already. Fucking sell me. Anything is better than this."

Rage burns through me, hotter than the shit they pumped through my veins when they induced my heat. My hands curl against the concrete until my nails crack and my fingers bleed. "No," I growl. "No, we're not dying here. None of us are."

"Charlotte," Reya whimpers, "I'm scared."

"Good. Fear keeps you sharp." I press closer to the gap, ignoring how the cold floor leaches warmth from my body. "But don't let it paralyze you. Channel it. Use it," I tell her and myself.

"You don't understand," Patrick says. "Do you know how many men and women are out there between us and freedom. They're well organized. This isn't some random operation, they know what they're doing. They have doctors, guards, Alphas—strong Alphas—everything's calculated and well planned."

"Then we'll be smarter. Find out what we can,help each other." My voice grows stronger with each word. "I've spent years fighting for our rights, exposing abuse, building networks. People are looking for me. They'll be looking for all of us." For all our sakes, I really hope I'm right.

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