Heart hammering, pulse-pounding, my feet slam into the dirt, and mud flies up behind me. Reaching the end of the path, I follow the still fresh scent of her sugary essence and that unmistakable trace of fresh rain that sinks straight to my blood. My cock throbs. Warmth floods my chest. My fingers tingle with the need to touch her. I follow the trail to the pool of water in the center of the forest surrounding the stronghold.
She swam across it, in a bid to dissipate her scent and throw me off. Clever omega.
She can fight and she knows how to evade a hunter—this is not an ordinary submissive on my hands. She’s unlike any woman I have ever met, someone who challenges me, faces up to me.
My groin tightens.
I quicken my pace and run around the perimeter of the pool. Her scent fades on the other side. Where could she have gone? I scan the area. Trees line the edge of the open lawns that lead down to the parapet walls. The water of the Thames River glimmer beyond that.
I run towards it, calculating how far she could have gone. It wouldn’t be like her to do the obvious and hide in the forest on the far side of the stronghold. This way is more exposed, more dangerous. It's exactly the route she'd take.
I run across the grass, straight through the last line of trees.
There's a rustle from the branches above, and that sweet scent of her pours over me. My instincts scream at me to swerve; every part of me stiffens to alertness. But if I were to move aside, she’d hit the ground. The thought of that soft body being hurt, being marked by anything else except my fingers sends a primal burst of anger through me.
She slams into me from above.
The force of it topples me on my back. And then she is on me, her legs squeezing my waist, her fingers around my throat.
“Round one is mine, alpha-hole.” She pants then rams her forehead down on mine.
Sparks of red and white flare behind my eyes, pain shoots through my head, but already I am moving. “Not yet, omega-hole.” I bare my teeth, grab her waist—she’s so small that both my palms meet on either side—and then I twist my body so she’s lying under me, her strong thighs still gripping my waist, her ankles locked around my back. I bend over her.
Her cheeks flush; her chest heaves.
I push my arousal against her core. It’s a blatant sign of who is more dominant, not that there is any doubt about that, okay? Still, it doesn’t hurt to show her who’s in charge here, does it?
Her gaze widens, her lips part, and fuck! I want to lean down and slide my tongue into that ripe mouth even as I ram my cock balls deep into her pussy.
She must sense my intention, for that sweet, sugary scent of her slickness leaks into her air.
“Does the thought of being taken by me turn you on, Omega?” I lower my voice to just short of a purr, holding back the rich sound that I already know will arouse her further.
Her eyelashes flutter. She swallows, and her hips wriggle under me, brushing against my iron-hard shaft.
Heat bursts through my veins, radiating through my blood, until it feels like every part of me is on fire, with need. For her.
She thrusts out her breasts, and her nipples are outlined through the material of her tight black T-shirt, so sharp, so enticing.
“Oh, Alpha, please take me, rut me.”
She flicks out her tongue to lick her lips, and I feel it all the way down to the tip of my shaft.
“Said not this omega.” She bares her teeth.
With a move I don't see coming—and I have faced down some of the best hand-to-hand fighters in this land and won—she twists her body, then makes to slide out from under me. I let her go until she is sure she is almost free. Almost. I wait until her features relax, then snake out my arms. I grab her wrists, and twist them up above her head, shackling her there.
A growl rips out of me and her gaze widens. The green of her iris lightens. The scent of her arousal deepens. A pulse tics to life at my temples. My cock throbs in tandem.
I hold her down with my more powerful body, and this time there is no finesse. Only brute force. An alpha laying claim to his omega. “Oh, you will be begging for a lot more before I am done.” I take her mouth.
I had meant to punish her for what she’d done. Not the physical hurt when she’d rammed her head against mine. It’s my ego that is more bruised—the one that cannot accept that this sprite of an omega could have flounced into my stronghold and then attempted to kill me. It’s that which makes me ram my tongue between her lips and swirl it over her teeth, and then I suck in her essence.
Honey and melting ice and sweet, tangy berries, the taste goes straight to my head. I growl low in my throat. The sound rips out of me. Possessive, harsh, it rolls over her. Her entire body seems to stiffen, then relaxes.
Her thighs quiver.
I smell the dampness of her slick, wetting her pants and sinking into the seams of my crotch. My dick throbs, needing to be inside of her.
I transfer her wrists to one hand and sweep the other palm down the side of her arm, to her breast, squeezing that ripe nipple.
I feel the shudder flow down her side as her pelvis thrusts up to cradle my hardness.
Another growl wells up from me, rippling over where her breasts are crushed against the planes of my chest. The sugary scent of her arousal is all around me. I slide my hand down her hips to squeeze the lush curves of her butt. Mine. All mine.
Her body arches under me, her spine curves, the cradle of her hips calls to me. All her muscles shudder, and it’s so fucking hot. A primal need grips me. My shoulders go solid.
I slide the heel of my hand between us to rub against her core, her still-fabric-covered center, needing to feel that slickness, wanting to lick it up, pushing, shoving, cupping her core, dry humping her with my hand. Wanting to see her come.
A low moan bleeds up her throat. Her teeth dig into my lower lip, and shock waves ricochet down my spine.
“Fuck, Omega.” I tear my mouth from hers.
“Not yet.” She twists her body, wrenches her wrists from my grip, and slides out from under me. This time she breaks free.
4
Lucy
The alpha of alphas had all but fucked me right here in the open, and I had let him.
Not that it should come as a surprise, him trying to take me right here in the open without finesse. It’s exactly what I’d expect of a brute like him.
But my response to him, the way I had opened my mouth, my legs…my heart…no, not that, not yet, but if I let him, he could get under my skin, and what am I thinking about?
He’s treating me like I am a caged animal. To him I am another omega he can drag off to his lair and rut and—my belly tightens—I want him to do it.
I want him to reach down and place his lips where his hand had been between my legs. I need to feel his tongue thrust inside me, feel that thick shaft whose length had throbbed against my waist, fill me, take me, knot me. “Fuck.” I scream more to hear the sound of my own voice, so I can try to shake off this sexual haze that has gripped me. This need that twists my insides, that makes me want to turn away and retrace my steps and throw myself at him.
“No. Fucking. Way.” I will not let him capture me.
I push my feet into the ground, focus my eyes on my goal. The wall, get to the wall.
My belly clenches; my skin heats.
The thud of his footsteps draws closer, as he chases after me. The scent of burned pinewood pours over me. His scent. So evocative, so potent. It’s laced with the tangy spoor of his arousal. It sinks into my blood, and my core clenches.