Page 30 of Pack Rivals: Part Two
I don’t feel the pain.
The pain radiating through my chest masks it entirely.
7
Bea
I don’t remember muchabout the journey to the beach other than the pain and the agony, and the way my body had fought me every long drawn-out minute.
My treacherous body had wanted those alphas there in the van. Had wanted to curl around their hard, strong bodies. Had wanted to lick them and breathe in their mind-tingling scents. Had wanted to open my legs and beg them to have me. All of them. Then and there. To fuck me and rut me and knot me. To fill me up. To keep me coming over and over again.
But my mind and my heart, they knew better.
And though the pain in my gut was fierce, it was nothing really. Nothing compared to the piercing agony in my heart.
Though my heat scrambled my thoughts, leaving me struggling to remember where or who I was, one thought spun around and around in my mind.
These men had hurt me. I’d trusted them. I’d let my guard down. I’d let them into my fragile heart and they’d ripped it to shreds.
I wouldn’t let them do it again. No matter how badly my body screamed for them.
At some point, when the sky was still dark, we reached the beach. I remember the sound of the crashing waves, the taste of salt on my tongue, Courtney’s arms wrapped tight around my frame. And then the soft mattress of the bed. Sinking deep into layers of softness, burying under the covers. Then darkness.
I lie awake now in that same room. The sheets are damp with sweat and slick, and pain racks though my body. I bite down hard on my lip, tasting copper in my mouth. I rub furiously at my clit chasing an orgasm that won’t come. Knowing if it did, it would bring me some kind of relief. Knowing instinctively that it would only be a half measure.
Only a cock deep in my pussy would relieve this incessant ache; never-ending and relentless.
I knew this would be bad.
But it’s worse, so much worse, than I could have ever imagined.
I flip onto my stomach, burying my head into the pillow, my screams muffled as I thrust my fingers in and out of myself.
I consider relenting. I consider jumping in Missy and heading to the city, begging the first alpha I meet to fuck me hard.
I consider calling my alphas and pleading with them to come. I swear I can almost smell their scents in the air.
I screw my eyes up tight, as my hips lift, and images of the six of them float through my mind, like the worst possible kind of treacherous sirens.
They are notmyalphas.
They are not.
They never were. It was all a lie. All a silly game.
So what they rescued me? So what they pulled me away from whatever danger I’d stumbled into?
Like I told them, I have no idea if they were the cause of that danger. If it was a giant hoax, designed to humiliate me all over again.
No, I’m not going to think about those alphas. I’m going to forget all about them and when this is over, I’ll find a nice respectable alpha, one I can line up for a heat and never see again.
I won’t think about Axel’s scent of spring rain.
I won’t think of Angel’s gray eyes. Or Nate’s dirty ones.
I won’t think of Hardy’s skilled hands. Or Silver’s heart-stopping smile.
And most of all I will not think of Connor Doyle.
