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Taking Control

Page 3

by L. V. Lane


  People of both sides would willingly die, kill and decimate to retrieve that.

  The magnitude of what we were retrieving was not lost on me. I thought about my parents and how they had prayed for the virus to pass me by. Private views they had told no one about. Would I even be here if our government knew of my parents’ opinions on dynamics? No, I did not think that I would be.

  If our enemy should obtain that research, would they destroy the virus? If they did what would happen to me? Would I become ordinary again? Would natural order be restored?

  I recalled my mentor’s words—I was an Omega, I was subservient and predisposed to submit.

  Yet I did not feel remotely subservient, nor inclined to submit to anyone for anything. The virus had been responsible for terrible things, and I did not want anyone to die. I wanted the war to be over, I wanted peace.

  This research felt pivotal, and I could help our side to retrieve it—or not.

  Before my dynamic revealed as Omega, I might have thought differently. I wasn’t that person anymore, and I would not be here if I were.

  “I’m going to expect your obedience,” he said. “I also expect complete honesty.”

  As I nodded, I wondered if I could give him either. Closing the gap behind me, his hand settled over my left shoulder, and I suddenly found it difficult to speak.

  “Are you going to invest, Eloise?” he asked softly.

  Invest, there it was again that innocuous yet loaded little word. He was asking about intimacy. Asking if I would submit to his control in every sense of the word.

  I wasn’t ready for the question. I’d imagined there would be more time, and that we might come to know each other before we progressed to that. In a way, I was relieved that I had already decided not to invest.

  Just for a moment, I allowed myself to explore the possibility that I might invest. He was handsome and built, and I was sure the experience would have been pleasurable. He was a war hero for goodness sake, and I had dedicated many guilty moments to imagining just this…which was fine while I thought we would never meet. Had I not been so morally appalled by this request, I might even have offered it.

  And yet that research I was going to help recover was knocking all my previous investment determinations out of kilter. Maybe it would be better if I invested, less suspicious, and this was my chance to make a difference and to stop the imbalance caused by the Copper virus.

  I tried to steady my breathing, and to be objective, but it was hard while his hand rested on my shoulder. Why hadn’t I considered this alternative an hour ago, or better still yesterday?

  Why did it have to be him? How could I possibly be objective with him?

  “You need to answer,” he said lightly, but there was no mistaking the underlying command, and his fingers squeezed in light encouragement.

  I remained silent, still mentally debating with myself, when he demanded, “Answer me,” in a sharp tone that startled a breathy, “Yes” out of me.

  The hand over my shoulder squeezed gently, then released me.

  I felt strangely disconnected having said that…and lighter. For better or worse, I had committed now.

  Only I wasn’t entirely sure what I had committed to or what would happen next.

  No, I’m not that naive, I know some of what will happen.

  “I didn’t mean to say that,” I said. “I didn’t mean to invest. Not yet, anyway.”

  “No one ever does,” he said, sounding amused. “Stay still. And don’t think about retracting investment. I told you I expect honesty—I will have honesty.”

  I never enjoyed attention as a child, but ever since I tested Omega, I'd become even more reserved. This wasn’t the same kind of attention. The recruiter had made me feel uncomfortable. Logan made me feel like prey.

  Running his hands lightly over my hips, he growled. A low sound, so low I almost didn’t hear it, but my body responded, and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck rose to attention.

  He did it again, causing a flutter in the pit of my stomach. Releasing my hips, he closed his fingers over my long, dark hair at the back of my head, tightening them until it began to sting, and my inner muscles clenched in a confused, empty spasm.

  “So glad we got that out of the way,” he said, drawing my head slowly to the side.

  That mental stuttering was happening again, and I couldn't process his actions or words quickly enough. His lips feathered kisses against the side of my throat. The gentleness of the kiss contrasted starkly with the bite of his fingers tugging and holding me to his liking.

  It felt entirely natural to know and offer him what he wanted, like I was attuned to him and his feelings. Neck stretching, I offered up my throat to those torturously soft kisses.

  “Good girl,” he encouraged. “Give me what I want.” Kisses deepening, he sucked harder against the skin.

  My pussy became slick, and I pressed my legs together to ease the ache. I understood the role that scent played, and that Alphas and Omegas smelt pleasant to each other. He would have a keen sense of smell, might even be able to tell that I was aroused, and that made me feel very vulnerable. I’d always had a terrible sense of smell. Was dysfunctional in that way. They said it was part of my singularity and that my senses were focused in other ways.

  I could smell nothing other than a very faint, slightly spicy odor that, while pleasant, certainly wasn’t driving me into a frenzy the way other Omegas mentioned it did. Scent would be more potent when in heat. I had only experienced two heats since revealing as an Omega, which I had managed with the aid of drugs—events that were very hazy in my mind.

  Now, and as his lips continued to press against my throat, I couldn’t recall why I had wanted to deny this. “Please,” I whispered, barely recognizing my own voice—I wanted him to make that sound again.

  The kisses ceased abruptly. “What do you need?”

  He tugged on my hair again, then more sharply when I didn't answer. “Answer me!”

  I shook my head, having no idea how to articulate what I wanted into coherent words.

  When he released my hair, I felt bereft and then a little panicky that I had failed a test. I couldn’t afford to fail a test, not when I had an opportunity that might save lives.

  Arm circling my shoulder, he closed fingers around the front of my throat and pulled my back flush against his chest.

  My stomach fluttered anew from the feel of his big hand holding my throat, keeping me exactly where he wanted me. His body fitted behind me, tall and powerful. We were alone, and I had agreed to invest.

  He tugged at the hem of my dress, hitching it up until his fingers found skin at my upper thigh. “I wanted to do this the moment I saw you standing there, looking small and helpless, eyes wide, wondering if I would fuck you.”

  Lips lowering close to my ear, he growled softly.

  That sound would be the death of me.

  “I was always going to fuck you.”

  The words completed my doom.

  His fingers skimmed back and forth across the skin of my upper thigh, making me hot and fidgety…until his other hand tightened around my throat.

  “Keep still for me,” he said.

  I froze, the slight pressure was undoing me.

  There was a primitiveness to having a man’s hand around my throat, and it instilled an immediate desire to comply. Not fear precisely, but an understanding of my vulnerability, of his strength, and how my life was within his hands. I wanted to please him, to be still, but I was restless. What would happen if I disobeyed him?

  “If you want my fingers in that hot little pussy you better be still. Otherwise, you’re going to be on your knees with my cock so far down your throat you’ll be choking on it, and that needy little pussy will have to wait.”

  I dragged a ragged breath in. Curiosity was not a safe thing.

  “Like the sound of that, hmm? My cock or my fingers?”

  “Both,” I said, because he demanded my honesty and because I did like t
he sound of both. When his fingers tightened on my throat, I felt utterly mastered.

  “Such a little hussy,” he whispered softly next to my ear. “Now, I need to make you wait for both.”

  His fingers made little swirls that edged closer to the apex of my thighs but never quite got there. I wanted more of something, anything, and my hips moved of their own volition seeking to place his touch where I needed it most.

  The sting of his hand slapping my thigh brought a squeal to my lips. A second later, I was bent over the nearby couch, my dress dragged up, and my panties tugged brutally down.

  A stinging blow landed on my naked ass.

  Then another.

  Fearful and fighting, I tried to escape the onslaught, but I was held firm, my wrists pinned behind my back as the blows kept raining fire against my bottom and upper thighs.

  The shock, the pain, and the complete ease with which he meted out this punishment shattered me. He had told me he expected my obedience. I knew how vital it was, and the danger it could place my life in if I hesitated to comply at the wrong moment. It had seemed obvious that he would have it where my safety was concerned, but I could see now how it must penetrate all aspects of our relationship. He told me to be still, and I had disobeyed him.

  I had failed a test, and this was the consequence so I must accept it.

  My submission brought the punishment to an end, but the burning continued to sweep over my sensitized skin.

  He helped me stand, in a gentle, almost reverent way and drew me onto his lap as he sat on the couch. The rough texture of his clothing stung my naked bottom.

  Between my legs I was wet and slippery and I squeezed my knees together. What was wrong with me? Why would I find punishment arousing?

  “Was that a test?”

  Logan tucked me into his arms, his fingers kneading gently at the edge of my tender bottom. My dress still bunched up around my waist, my underwear sat around my knees, and my wet pussy throbbed. Wiping my damp cheeks with his thumb, he said, “Everything is a test…Let’s get these out of the way.” He slipped my shoes off, discarding them on the floor. Then his fingers closed over my panties, pulling them all the way off.

  Face burning, I watched him toss them to the floor. I wanted to stop him, to demand he give them back, but I had failed one test, and I did not want to experience that stinging hand again.

  “I should just fuck you,” he said. The words set my stomach quivering and a faint buzzing in my head. “It’ll be easier on you if I do.”

  “I don’t believe that,” I said, and really, this was already too much too soon.

  “Open your legs for me, baby,” he said softly. For a second, I didn’t understand the request, and then I did, and my stomach flip-flopped. “I didn’t even spank your pussy this time, and I can feel how hot it is against my leg.”

  This time? My stomach clenched, pushing the wetness out and making me squirm anew.

  I was mortified by my body’s reaction, but he did not sound annoyed or surprised by what was happening. He pressed gentle kisses against the side of my head, and this comforted me. And I had invested, and although I didn’t know exactly what that meant, I knew that he did.

  “You took your punishment like a good girl, so I think you deserve a reward.”

  Reward? I still hesitated, and I could feel his amusement rising as the seconds continued to tick. I opened my legs a little. My wetness embarrassed me. How could I be this wet? I was sure it could not be normal.

  “You can do better than that,” he said.

  I couldn't face his censure when he noticed what was happening. It was bad enough he could feel the heat through his clothes. I shook my head.

  He chuckled and turned me so that my back was against his chest. “Put your legs outside mine,” he instructed.

  I did as he asked because I wasn’t feeling strong enough to defy him again. It stretched me obscenely wide and cool air tickled my swollen pussy lips.

  He opened his legs wider, and the hard length of his cock pressed against my bottom.

  I gasped as I was stretched open and exposed, my face aflame with humiliation.

  “Good girl,” he said encouragingly. “If I ask you to spread your legs for me, always open them as wide as you can.”

  He really wanted this, and I tried for just a little more.

  “Fuck, that’s so fucking hot, opening your legs nice and wide for me.”

  His words triggered a little spasm inside my pussy. I tensed and pressed my fingers to my tummy.

  “What’s the matter?” He plucked my hands away, and placing one of his own over my lower stomach, rubbed gentle circles. “Are you getting wet?” I shook my head, my chest rising and falling unsteadily and my face burning as hot as my bottom. “Stop that, Eloise,” he said roughly. “Don’t try and hold it in or I’ll spank you again.”

  My pussy spasmed and I felt wetness trickle out.

  He reached his other hand around my shoulder and closed his fingers around my throat, and the hand resting over my tummy moved straight to the outer edges of my wet pussy folds.

  They played there for a time, and I tried to breathe normally, as if normal were possible while he was controlling me like this. His fingers dipped inside, and I fidgeted as he coated them and spread it around.

  With that touch I lost the last of my dignity and mind.

  “What a naughty little pussy. So wet and ready for my cock and I’ve barely begun.”

  “Please.” I became desperate for those fingers to move closer to that sensitive little nub. Just one touch, but he seemed to purposely keep them away. He tormented, never drawing closer to where I needed touching most until the entire area tingled and I was burning with need.

  Cruel fingers circled over and over until finally, they settled on the area just above my little bud where he drew patterns that I willed to move lower.

  Breath stuttering, my heart rate surged. He wasn't even touching my clit, but the waves of rolling pleasure radiated out from his fingers regardless, sending a flood of heat through my entire body as my inner muscles contracted over emptiness.

  “Oh, God!” I felt like I had just been undone.

  “I didn’t give you permission to come, baby.” He continued to play. “You should ask my permission.”

  “Please!”

  His fingers kept up their slow circling, and I couldn't drag my eyes away from that sensual sight. The whole area felt swollen, and my pussy gave up little echo spasms of hope.

  “You want to come again?”

  “Yes. Please, yes.”

  “Already?”

  “Please, yes.”

  “No.” His voice held a soft growl, and my breathing became choppy.

  “Hold it for me, Eloise.” His stern tone dragged me back. His fingers tightened a fraction around my throat.

  I tried to steady my breathing, to block out what he was doing.

  “The next time you come will be around my cock.” His fingers continued their slow torturous circle of my pussy. He adjusted the hold on my neck, peeling his fingers away, he spread them wider and replaced them more securely.

  “And I need to do a whole lot more playing with this pretty pussy before you get rewarded with my cock. So be a good girl and let me have what I want.”

  No one had ever spoken to me like that before and the sensation of being held open, and of being forced to submit to both his will and his body, was too much.

  The second orgasm ripped through me without any warning, and my mind whited out.

  Logan’s soft laughter surprised me. His fingers still played with my pussy, and I thought I might black out.

  He ceased abruptly but left his hand there, cupping me intimately.

  I whined in complaint.

  “Not very good at following orders,” he said, but he sounded more amused than annoyed. “We’ll have to work on that.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Eloise

  MY HEART RATE would not settle. I was so confused by
my own behavior. Just the way he held me now, one hand resting between my legs and one against my throat.

  “I—it’s very confusing,” I said. Opposite the couch, the wide window revealed the spinning circular framework of the spaceport. The eclectic mix of vessels docked there, glistened against the star-filled blackness of space, growing gradually smaller.

  We have left.

  “I know,” Logan replied. “And it will be for a while. Just—go with it.”

  Turning me sideways, he pulled my legs together and tucked them onto the couch beside him. Then drew his arms about me and pressed the side of my head to his chest where a gentle rumble emanated from. My breathing steadied. I wanted to gauge his mood, but when I lowered my mental shield to test, the only impression I received was calm.

  Leaving my lodging’s this morning, I’d been so caught up in the deployment, worrying about what would happen when I finally confronted the dangers of the war. Never could I have anticipated this, that I would be cuddling on an Alpha’s lap, that I would submit so much so soon.

  “I need to fuck you,” he said, rubbing the rough stubble on his chin against my hair.

  I wasn’t even troubled by this statement, but his chest still rumbled, and it was difficult to push past the calm it imprinted.

  My life hadn’t prepared me for this.

  Today had brought many revelations. I felt like I’d taken a seat on one of those hard-core amusement rides, and I wasn’t the thrill-seeking type.

  “Are you going to?” I asked.

  I felt his smile as his lips pressed against my hair. “Do you want me to?”

  “I don’t know what I want,” I confessed.

  “That’s the truest thing you have said since we met. Fortunately for you, I know exactly what you need.”

  I believed him. It was one thing to know of Alphas, and another to be in the presence of one. There had been fear when the recruiter had notified me one would be my Controller.

  They had ripped apart our civilization during the first viral awakening. The virus had been tested, and extensive trials run. None had yielded Alphas, so it had been a shock when this dynamic revealed within days. It took us decades to recover from the fallout.

 

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