Page 117 of Unhinged
“Omega!” I bark.
That gets her. Her shoulders tense. Her chest rises and falls hard, breath ragged, nostrils flaring. She just turns her head, eyes finding mine. They’re wild. Glowing.
She looksperfect.
“That's enough,” I tell her.
She blinks once. Twice. Then shoves Stacy to the floor like trash.
Stacy curls in on herself, crying, a bloody mess of limbs and whimpering.
Brydgett turns fully now, walking away like she didn’t just wreck a woman in front of everyone. Like she didn’t nearly lose herself.
And fuck me if I’m not hard as hell watching her do it.
She walks right up to me, face flushed, lips red, knuckles dripping.
“You mad?” she asks, voice husky.
I shake my head. “No.”
She grins. “Wanna fuck me in front of them?”
I don’t answer.
But Idoreach for her.
I grab her by the waist and press her back against the wall. Her breath catches, but she doesn't fight it. She looks up at me, all wild-eyed and glowing, cheeks flushed.
I lean in close, just enough that my forehead brushes hers. “I wanna fucking wreck you, Omega,” I growl. “I want you full of my cock and dripping with my cum.”
She bites her bottom lip, pupils blown wide.
“But this is a party,” I continue, barely holding on, “and it’s not the time. Not yet. We’ll have our time, baby. But tonight? I’m enjoying watching you hang with my brothers. With my club.”
I crash my mouth against hers and she whimpers, soft and filthy against my lips. She tastes like oranges and vodka. I push my tongue into her mouth and she doesn’t hesitate—she sucks on it, like she owns it, like she owns me.
Her perfume hits the air like a punch and I groan, stepping back before I forget where we are and ruin her against the wall.
She blinks up at me, smug and glowing.
“I have a game of darts to win,” she says with a wicked little smirk, dipping under my arm, hips swaying like sin. She struts back to Suave and Nitro, throwing a feral grin that shows her teeth over her shoulder at me.
“Let’s go, boys!” she shouts.
The whole damn clubhouse erupts. Cheering. Whistling. A few guys pounding the walls. Like she just declared war and they’re all signing up.
I shake my head, still breathless, and turn toward the mess behind me. Stacy’s still crumpled near the wall, blood smeared and crying. I walk over and hold a hand out.
“Get cleaned up, Stacy,” I say. “And maybe stop touching if you’re not invited. Or you’ll be out.”
She doesn’t say anything. Just nods, tears streaming, and limps off toward the whore quarters, clutching her face.
I shrug and stroll over to Arrow. He raises an eyebrow at me.
“Well,” I say with a laugh, “that was quite the fucking show.”
Acid adjusts himself in his jeans, looking far too serious about it. “I’ve never wanted to fuck someone more than I do right now.”
