OmegaMine

by Aline Hunter

  As his climax neared she opened her eyes and looked at him, panting softly. He knew what she was waiting for but he couldn’t help but tease her, curious to know how she reacted when he talked dirty.

  “Do you want to know exactly what that tight little pussy of yours does to me? Do you want to know what it feels like when I come?”

  “Yes.” She met his thrusts, driving her hips up as he plunged down.

  “Then tell me. I want to hear it. As you’re probably aware, I enjoy talking dirty and appreciate when it’s reciprocated.”

  She did as he asked without a second’s pause. “I want to feel you come.”

  “How does my cock feel inside of you? Does it feel good?”

  “You know it does,” she groaned. “God, you know.”

  “You’re right, I do.” He ran his tongue along her collarbone. “But I want you to tell me. I want to hear you say it. How does it feel?”

  “Hard, long and thick, filling and stretching me so that I can’t feel anything else but you, inside and out.” She flexed her ass and gyrated against him. “Please. I want to feel what it’s like when you come deep inside me.”

  “Whatever you want, baby.”

  He increased the pace and pounded into her, faster and then faster, and roared as he achieved release. Arching his back, he stared at the ceiling as wave after wave of semen jetted from his cock and bathed her womb, dimly aware that her own cries were drowning him out. Her pussy began milking him, the tight, velvety walls clenching like a fist before releasing, and he realized she was caught in the throes of another orgasm. The delicious heat spreading throughout her body extended his own climax, so his cock continued jerking even when there was no seed to spend. Combined with her feelings, it was the ultimate pinnacle of sex, so fucking good his eyes crossed and his entire body felt the impact.

  Taking care to keep his weight off her body, he blanketed her with his torso as the final shudders passed, the beads of perspiration on his chest merging with hers as their sweat-slicked skin touched. Both of them were struggling for breath, their frantic, racing heartbeats in sync. Their thoughts were hazy but the relief and satiation was perfect, so damn good he never wanted to leave her side or their bed.

  “Amazing,” she managed to huff, breathing hard.

  As he pressed his lips into the sweaty curve of her neck, he smiled. The afterglow of sex wasn’t something he used to enjoy but now, sensing the obvious adoration and affection radiating from his mate, he was certain that was about to change. When she wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tight he knew there was one more thing he could do to make her happy.

  For humans it was too soon. For shifters it could literally occur overnight.

  “I love you, Ava mine.”

  He didn’t realize just how much he wanted to hear the endearment in return—hadn’t thought that it really mattered—until she sighed into his chest, hugged him tighter and whispered back, “I love you too.”

  * * * * *

  Sadie Dumus stood across the street from Dougan’s Bar with her back resting against the glass wall of the Presto Laundromat that proudly touted its convenient twenty-four hour, round-the-clock customer service. A few shifters lingered on the sidewalks but they couldn’t see her, passing by without so much as a curious notice.

  Although it sapped her strength like a son of a bitch, veiling was a nifty talent she was glad she’d inherited. It was a rare gift among vampires, gained only by those with a mage in their lineage who were born—or chose—to grace the lighter side of the vampiric family spectrum.

  Which, thank the stars, her father had been. Otherwise she’d be in the kind of trouble no magic could protect her from.

  The fear that surfaced from the thought settled like dead weight in her gut, causing the liquid meal from a few hours previous to roll and churn in her stomach. Fighting the rising nausea, she quickly got a grip and took a deep, calming breath.

  Goddess, she shouldn’t have come here. The last time she’d come sniffing around Trey Veznor she’d nearly done herself in.

  She trembled at the memory.

  She’d almost revealed her presence in Central Park the night Trey and his crazed brother had faced off, unable to stand aside when she saw him stumble to his knee as she phased to his side. If it hadn’t been for the violent brawl, the heat of the battle with Emory and the blood lust, Trey could have seen her, glimpsed past her magic and understood the attraction that drew her to him like a moth to a flame.

  Like a moth to a flame, she thought bitterly. Sizzle and combust.

  Closing her eyes, she recalled the fated night that had occurred just weeks after she’d arrived in her new home in New York. What was supposed to be an important mission for the coven had become something else, and one chance encounter at Liminality was all it had taken to raise the stakes.

  She’d felt the same pull Trey had the moment their eyes met from across the cloudy floor of the club, the air laden with tendrils of swirling cigarette smoke. It wasn’t often that a shifter and blood drinker mated, and there was a good fucking reason—with starvation or a slow, agonizing death being one of outcomes. That was why vampires refused to consider it and ran at the first sign of a connection.

  Still, as he’d studied her that night, she’d taken him in as well. He was tall, lean and muscular, with an extremely masculine countenance. He’d been dressed entirely in black, the long leather trench coat concealing what she was certain was an arsenal of weapons.

  Three words had come to mind: Sexy, mysterious, powerful.

  After a moment he’d stood and started making his way over. He’d moved like the predator he was, all muscles, intent and determination. His shoulders had shifted as he prowled, strides smooth and graceful.

  When he’d stood within a few feet of her she’d gotten hold of herself, did the only thing she could and phased just before he made it to her table. He hadn’t known that she hadn’t left the club but changed locations, able to view him as he’d seen her disappear and comprehended what she was. A strange expression had crossed his face, but before she’d been able deconstruct it the look had quickly been replaced with revulsion.

  While her heart had wilted at his cold response, she’d forced herself to accept and understand that while rejection was a cruel bitch that carried a harsh sting, it was to be expected.

  Although she wasn’t cold-blooded as folklore depicted, or without a heartbeat, she was unable to walk in the sun for long stretches of time or sustain herself on food alone. Calories, while delectable, didn’t provide the sustenance her kind required. It was all about the red stuff, the source of all life. Plain, simple and rich—when you needed a boost, blood couldn’t be beaten.

  To a shifter, drinking blood was repulsive. Because of that they considered vampires a scourge on the city, bottom feeders as it were. Not that their tendency to hunt live prey and devour it raw was all that appetizing to her or her kind.

  Give it a rest.

  Shifting her weight, she studied the bar, knowing she shouldn’t have come but once again discovering she was unable to leave. She had her own responsibilities and obligations, which didn’t include her pairing with anyone of her choice in the near future, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Trey was the ultimate poison, the one she could never have, and for some reason, even knowing that, she was captivated by the man.

  Several of the pride Alphas exited the building with their seconds-in-command, bringing her to full attention. She watched as they walked to their expensive Jaguars and limousines and suddenly had the urge to phase closer to ruin the shiny paint with a nice scrape of her nails as they drove by.

  Of all the breeds littering the city, cat shifters were the ones she cared for least. Once they had been of a great use to mage vampires, who used them as familiars, but that was before the world changed, became technologically advanced, and feline shifters decided they no longer needed protection from the hunters searching for them. Automatic weapons, large bodyguards and
a deity known as an Omega provided their safe haven from harm.

  The door to the bar opened and, just like that, there Trey was, standing across from her in all his glory.

  Over the course of her obsession, she’d often ventured to Trey’s favorite hideaways, anxious for a glance or a wispy breeze that allowed her to bask in his scent. On occasion she took it a sinful step further, touching him while veiled, allowing her fingertips to travel along his skin. He seemed to luxuriate in the caresses until he realized what he was doing. Afterward she always moved away to give him space, to whisper in his mind like a fucking ghost.

  Smell but don’t taste. Look but don’t touch.

  As she watched his jerky motions now, her instincts told her something big was going down. Something she would have noticed if she hadn’t been so fixated on the sexy slice of man who haunted her dreams. Trey’s sublime face was heavily shadowed and his whiskey-colored irises were bright in the dark. He adjusted the leather jacket around his shoulders, slid his hand into an inside pocket and retrieved his phone.

  If she moved a bit closer, she could see who he was contacting. It was just a matter of keeping her hands to herself.

  She pushed away from the glass and walked to the edge of the sidewalk, separated from him by a few measly yards, and stopped.

  Damn it, I shouldn’t be here. If he sees past my shielding spell, he’ll mark me immediately. All it’ll take is one good sniff and I’m fucked.

  While she didn’t do so often, it wasn’t difficult to get the information she needed in another way. Concentrating, she focused on his thoughts and froze when she plucked a name from his mind.

  Aldon Frost.

  Trey kept his voice low but she clung to every syllable she could hear. “We need to talk.”

  Trey paused for a moment to listen, nodded instead of speaking and snapped the phone closed. Then he lifted his head, flared his nostrils and stared directly at her.

  Panic kept her from moving, freezing her in place for a split second. Then the world sped up and she came to her senses. Sure he was looking in her direction but there was no way he could see her. Her veil was impossible to break unless she willed it or she was injured. Thus was the power of vampires.

  Vampires.

  She was tempted to laugh. For her, the implication behind the terminology was all wrong. Her kind weren’t corpses from the grave or fanged harpies who stole children from their beds at night. That didn’t mean her ancestors and relatives weren’t a form of evil—their very existence came to being when a witch and a demon procreated and created the first of her race—but rather, their role was to keep the peace and protect the innocent from those who embraced the darkness within, corroding the streets with tainted blood drinkers and aberrations.

  Without her kindred, shifters would soon learn exactly how bad vampires could be.

  Trey sniffed the air again and appeared to stare directly at her, seeming to catch her eyes. The pain that arose from her desire to make it so was one she was familiar with but, as there was nothing to be done about it, she forced her wants into an invisible box and closed the lid.

  She couldn’t have Trey Veznor. No matter how much she yearned for him. He was the forbidden fruit that would bring about her destruction, the proverbial apple that sent Adam and Eve from Eden.

  A frown etched into Trey’s face as he pocketed the cell, turned on his heel and started walking down the street. She waited until the last limo drove away before she crossed the road, keeping a safe distance as she trailed him.

  Due to an unexpected shift in events, Trey Veznor was the least of her concerns. He was going to see Aldon, which meant that now it wasn’t personal.

  This was all business.

  * * * * *

  After Diskant left to return to the bar, Ava soaked in the large, swirling hot tub. The warm jets soothed her aching muscles as well as the sore, throbbing flesh between her legs. She’d meant what she’d told Diskant. It did feel as if he’d left her branded, but only in the most fantastic way imaginable.

  Who could have known just how damn good it could be to meet a gorgeous, insatiable man, share the best sex in this world and find out in a matter of hours that he not only wanted to keep you forever, but he would love you for the rest of your life?

  Pretty damn good, if she was being honest.

  Once she climbed out from the tub she quickly toweled herself dry before getting dressed. As exhausted as she was, she was still coasting on too much adrenaline and excitement to sleep. She took her time exploring the space, starting in the bedroom and moving to the living room and kitchen. The furniture was entirely masculine, various hues of dark brown and cream, with splashes of red inside the throw pillows, matching the curtains. It screamed affluence without being stuffy or uptight. A perfect lair for a man like Diskant.

  A muffled sound drew her back to the bedroom and she stopped inside the doorway. She eyed her duffel, placed the sound and groaned.

  Damn. She’d been sure her cell would be deader than a doornail by now.

  There were a handful of people who could be calling her, the most obvious being Brett and Thomas. Her boss and friend, understandably, because she left his place of business without an explanation and he was probably worried, and Thomas because he wanted to harass her about what he considered a “sneaky loophole” in her parents’ will which allowed her to purchase the cabin at half the price.

  The sound died only to start right back up again. It was either shut the damn thing off or answer. After she managed to pull the annoying device from her bag she scowled when she saw unknown caller flashing in time with the abrasive ring. Bracing herself for anything, she pressed the tiny green button to the left and placed the speaker to her ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, Ava,” Craig said, his voice as silky and smooth as butter.

  “How did you get this number?” Her tone, understandably, was not as cordial. She’d told Craig never to contact her again. Yet here he was, overstepping boundaries as if they never existed.

  “You of all people should know that for someone like me obtaining a phone number is as easy as asking.”

  “I’ve already told you to keep the locket. Put the damn thing on display if it makes you happy. Just leave me the hell alone.”

  She heard him tsk through the line. “You’ve never been one to make hasty decisions without hearing someone out. I see running with shifters has brought out the worst in you.”

  A huge and extremely powerful surge of protectiveness arose. So Craig knew about her and Diskant. She wasn’t surprised. He had his eyes and ears posted all over the city.

  “Listen to me, you smug son of a bitch. I don’t care if you hold the secret to the location of the Holy Grail and can offer me an unending supply of money and eternal life. Don’t call this number again. You’re right, I don’t make hasty decisions. It takes almost getting killed to help me decide what kind of company I do and don’t want. FYI, you rank somewhere in the latter category.”

  “Even if it could benefit your new family?” He posed the question as if he were discussing something simple, like what color to paint his bathroom. The tone pissed her off but the words managed to cool her temper.

  “You have one minute. I suggest you start talking.”

  “Rumor has it that Shepherds have come to town and that they’re targeting a member of Trey Veznor’s pack—his brother, to be specific. I’m offering you a chance to listen in on the enemy from a distance they can’t possibly fathom. You wouldn’t even have to worry about initiating a meeting. You’d know where they’ve parked their vans, as well as where they’re currently bunking down. The warehouse was only meant as a message. There is so much information I can provide if you’re willing to negotiate.”

  It was so damn hard not to reveal just how strong her telepathy was, but as if he were already aware he said, “Being around your new mate will increase your ability but not to the extent the locket will. There’s a reason your parents kept you�
�and the locket—under lock and key.”

  Once again he flaunted knowledge he knew she wanted. Her parents’ car accident had been neat and tidy. A flat tire that resulted in loss of control that sent them over a metal barrier, down a ravine and directly into the unforgiving embrace of an ancient oak. The police said it was an accident but as soon as Craig started dropping hints she had started to wonder. They’d always been so secretive, telling her only so much about their private jaunts around the world.

  Even her ability was something they’d worked diligently to keep hidden.

  “Are you finally planning to tell me what you know?”

  “I’m prepared to offer you an exchange. If you can sweeten the pot, I might be persuaded to toss a family heirloom into the bargain.”

  Damn him.

  The pendant didn’t matter to her but Craig knew just how much sway the information about her parents carried.

  “What is it that you want?” She knew what he wanted but feigned ignorance. There was only one thing he could possibly have an interest in—direct information about the shifters and, since he was an Omega, Diskant.

  “Don’t play coy.”

  “Forget it.” The answer was easier to bestow than it had ever been in the past. “Goodbye.”

  “The Shepherds won’t forget about Diskant Black when they go. They might leave the rest of the shifters in peace but if you did the research you’d learn that they have one weakness when it comes to hunting. They’ll single out the shifter who carries the most power. In this circumstance, that shifter is the man you’re sleeping with. If they get a yen to come back and finish what they’ve started you’ll be able to see them coming before anyone else can.”