2. Passion

What is happening?! Aren’t I supposed to not feel such things? Aren’t I supposed to be mateless?! Aren’t I supposed to be nothing but a simple damn human?! I guess I pulled the small straw from the gene pool… I feel my temperature rising and I feel myself grow unsteady, my vision blurry and my breath shaky. Fuck… fuck… not here! Not now! 

But no- this is not right. I am wolfless. This is not the mating heat. This is- my drink! The slimy man definitely slipped something into my drink and this shit acted fast and strong! 

As these thoughts roam through my mind, and my knees feel as if they weaken, a strong pair of hands get hold of my arms, holding me upright. I know for sure that whoever holds me right now, is not looking at me. Their eyes are pinned on the short haired man, and there is a slight growl escaping his throat as he guides me to sit back on the chair.

“Did you slip something in her drink?” the man who caught me asks, his voice low and raspy, sending shivers down my spine.

Please don’t make a scene!

One of his hands is still on my arm, gripping it tightly, making sure he is not going to allow me to slip from my seat, while the other grabs the now empty glass and brings it to his nose, taking a short sniff of it.

“No-” I manage to breathe out. “He did nothing-” I huff and try to swat his hand away. “-I’m just-” i don't need help! I don’t need someone to pick me up and protect me like I am some damsel in distress! 

I choke on my words and my eyes close, my whole body feeling as if it was filled with lead. 

“Look-” the man with short hair starts speaking but his voice is muffled by the sound of my own heart.

Before I can catch myself, I am falling head first, forward, my eyes closing once again, and my heart sinking into the pits of my stomach. 

I am not sure how long I am out, what has happened, where I was or who even was around me, but when I finally come to my senses, I feel as if I had fallen against a wall. Only this wall had arms, strong arms, wrapped around me and the scent of harsh leather was making me dizzy and feeling as if I was intoxicated.

“Hey!” The same voice from earlier rings acutely in my year, over the muffled music. 

My fingers sink into something that feels mildly like hard stone, but when I look up, I realize it’s his chest. I feel my face flush and the heat take hold of my whole body in an instant, turning up a lovely fever. A short humm sound escapes me and I feel like he tenses right under my touch, his hands flying off of my body while I press my forehead against his chest.

“Please~” I hear myself whimper and I know he hears me. 

Does he know what I am asking for? Am I truly aware of what I am asking for right now? I am not sure of either … But I find myself slipping back into a very familiar haze.

Being an omega has haunted me my whole life. My life was wrapped around a tight circle of people and ballet was the only thing that brought me an ounce of freedom. With an overly materialistic mother and a never present father, this earned both their attention and validation and I found myself pleased with it.

And now, I was selling myself off into a marriage that promised freedom. Those of my kind rarely had freedoms. Werewolves were usually wed in the same pack, to ensure a lovely stability and odd purity of the genes, but this time, my father did agree to marrying his only daughter to someone out of the pack. I wonder why? Did Keon know something we didn’t?

I wanted out of this lifestyle! I wanted out of being treated as a constant nuisance, an error. How could an alpha so powerful as my father have an omega as his daughter?!  I kept hearing this over and over again and I was sick of it! 

Right now, I am sure it’s the drugs talking,  but all I wanted was for him to touch me more! To hold me more! To feel his scent more, to taste him and have him taste me-

“Argh~” my own moan surprises me and the daze seems to clear out for a second. 

The image of the ceiling comes into sight and I understand I am laying down. The pillow and the mattress are soft enough to offer plenty of comfort, as if I was laying in a pile of feathers. Between my legs I feel warmth, and as I shift my head to look away from the ceiling, I see him.

He looks as if he has been ripped out from a painting. From a fantasy book-

Strange white hair, a mess; almondy deep set eyes in a golden color that make me think of molten gold; strong cheekbones; sunken in cheeks; a strong sharp nose; plump fleshy lips that seem to have been recently bitten- Did i bite them? 

Wait! Wait just a minute! As handsome as he was, the man whose fingers were stretching my cunt right now was a complete stranger! How did I end up here?! Where was I?!  

In a complete and utter frenzy, I push him away, my feet in his stomach, my hands on his face, pushing him far from my body, even if all I wanted was for him to keep stretching and filling me-

He pauses, sucks in a breath, his eyes cutting in a short motion from my body to my face, as he swallows hard. There are beads of sweat on his forehead, I can see some on his neck and now, I understand he was biting his own lips to hold himself back and not dive right between my legs. Shit! Did he know?! Did he know who I was?! Did he know the kind of deal I was in? 

His fingers pull away from my pussy and move right to his lips, where his tongue snakes out and he licks his fingers clean of my juices.

“You were so close-” He rasps out, his voice throaty, making my nipples go hard with arousal, making my pelvis feel like it’s flooding with a new wave of warmth and excitement. “If you want me to stop, push me off the bed now-” he growls out, his eyes narrowing, his sharp brows almost coming together in that frown of his. 

Stop? Did I want him to stop? 

I gulp down my own questions, my eyes scanning him again. His skin was a soft warm shade of ivory, making his sinewy muscles make him look as if he were a statue. One sculpted by one of the most skilled artist-

My eyes cut down his stomach and I suddenly found myself staring between his legs, where his erection was poking at the back of my thigh. I never really got to mess around, but I am not sure if it was supposed to be that big! It made me think of my own forearm! Some of my colleagues had smaller forearms than his dick- 

How was I supposed to fit that inside of me?!

I feel him take my hand off of his face and he brings it to his lips, where he plants a kiss on my palm, his eyes pinned on my face, making me self aware. I was naked in front of a stranger. A complete stranger. One utterly beautiful, whose eyes were filled with desire and lust. There was no ounce of judgment towards my much skinnier and smaller body. Or to the bones that were unhealthily showing through my skin-

“You’re stalling-” he rasps out, his teeth grazing over my wrist, his eyes closing slowly. “You’re taunting me? Are you going to refuse me or not?” he growls out, the grip on my forearms growing a bit painful. “If you don’t say something now-” he hisses, using his other hand to guide my legs on each side of his hips. “I will take it as an invitation!” he warns me.

I am dripping wet. I am a mess and despite how that makes me feel, when the head of his erection presses and rubs against my entrance, I want nothing but for him to shove himself inside of me already! Tear me apart and make this heated pain go away-

“Ahhhhh~” my pained moan fills the room when he thrust himself inside. 

It feels as if he is tearing me, stretching me just a bit over my limits. Tears flood my eyes and he brings my hands above my head, holding them there with one hand, while the other takes hold of my hips. His breath is raspy and uneven, and he had stopped himself not even halfway of his length. 

“You’re so tight-” he groans out, his eyes closed. 

Suddenly, they snap open as if he finally pieced it together. His eyes round in shock and it seems that he is reconsidering this whole affair. His grip on my hands loosen and despair fills my stomach.

“No!” I find myself pleading. “Don’t stop!” My voice is shaky and I feel like something within me begs for this as well. 

His eyes narrow slightly but he does not fight me. He hesitates a second more, before his grip on me tightens again, pulling back before pushing himself back in with a bit more ardor. Each thrust grows more and more fierce and wild and before I can even notice it, the pain has completely turned to pleasure. 

I’m so lost in all this that I am not even sure when he pulls out and flips me on my stomach, grabs my hips and forces them up, before he pushes himself inside once again, letting out a few sharp breaths and silent curses and comments about how tight I am. 

What am I doing? Who is this? I have a fiancee… 

“Ah!” 

“Hngf~” 

“Mmhhm~”