Page 81 of In Doubt
“I’ve never felt that compulsion before.”
“Because you’ve never fallen for an omega before.”
I sink further into the sofa, eyes floating to the ceiling. It’s quiet in the bedroom and I wonder if they’re sleeping or finally having that conversation.
“It’s all happening so quickly though,” I say.
“That’s life. Sometimes things don’t happen the way they should. But you can’t moan about it. You have to go with the flow and hope it’ll take you where you’re meant to go.”
21
Jake
The omega is a sleepy, floppy thing in my arms, my knot buried deep in her cunt, her stomach bloated with all the come I’ve pumped inside her.
I should let her sleep, an omega needs rest and recuperation in between rutting. I don’t want her to fall ill from exhaustion. But I also need to talk to her.
I can practically see my packmates pacing outside the door, cursing my name.
“Omega,” I say, sweeping my knuckles along her cheek bone. She peers up at me, her skin flushed pink from all those orgasms I’ve given her. “We need to talk.” Alarm flashes in her eyes. “It’s OK,” I purr immediately.
“What is it?” she asks, the rumble in my chest relaxing her, but the concern still audible in her voice.
“My pack,” I say simply, not really knowing how the hell to explain this to her.
“Your pack?”
I stare back at her, struggling for the words as I brush the hair from her forehead.
I’m such a bloody arsehole. I should never have brought her here.
She studies my face, her hands hooked around my neck. “They’re out there,” she says, her gaze sliding to the door. “I can smell them.” She inhales and shudders, and I’m unsure if it’s from fear or lust. “Do they … do they want to come in?”
Fuck, I finally have Giorgie Martinelli in my bed and now I’m going to blow it.
I cup her face in my hand and force myself to say the words.
“You’re an omega in heat. Yes, of course, they want to come in.” I pause. “But that’s irrelevant. What do you want?”
I’m asking too much of her. I’m putting her in a compromising situation.
I don’t want her to feel pressured.
I also really want to fuck her with my packmates.
Yeah, I’m an arsehole.
“I think,” she nibbles her lip, “I’ve always been curious.”
“Curious about what?” I ask quietly, not daring to hope.
“What it would be like to be with a pack.” She blushes.
“You have?” I ask.
“I live with a pack. I see the huge smile on their omega’s face every morning.” She cringes. “I’ve heard stuff.”
“Right.” I swallow, my heart stuttering in my chest.
