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Authors: Aline Hunter

BOOK: OmegaMine
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“Fuck, yes.” Diskant continued thrusting as he mirrored her
and claimed the unmarked side of her neck. His teeth sank deep and she felt her
body begin to peak, that delicious warmth spreading from her womb beyond.

Then things went terribly wrong.

Pain radiated from her bones, her head, her limbs, her
everything
.
It felt as if molten lava were trapped beneath her skin, blistering hot and
boiling its way from the inside out. She relinquished her hold on his neck and
cried out, agonized by the feel of his skin, his touch too much to bear. It
felt like a thousand needles plunging into the skin in all the places they
touched and her eyes and ears began to sting as if they were being stabbed by
shards of ice.

“Stop,” she begged pitifully and closed her eyes. Tears
streamed down her cheeks, forming salty trails to her chin.

Yet it didn’t stop, it worsened until she thought she’d
rather die than suffer the pain any longer. The endless waves of fire in the
pit of her stomach felt like a blowtorch. The breeze from the overhead ceiling
fan sent waves of coolness against her bare skin that were almost too brutal to
endure. The cashmere sweater she’d always adored was suddenly as coarse and
rough as a Brillo pad, chafing and scratching her arms, back and stomach.

Scents took over—earth, water and forest—and then she felt
an odd brush under her skin, as if something soft and velvety wanted to press
through and out. The texture changed from soft to dense, from silky to coarse,
as if she were being tormented by fur, skin, feather and hide. She thrashed
against Diskant, unable to hold her head upright. Each new wave through her
muscles was replaced by a different one, each blessedly faster and less painful
that the one before.

She was aware of Diskant whispering something, promising
everything would be all right as she wept uncontrollably. The pain slowly
dimmed until she was able to breathe again. The agony in her eyes, ears and
skin dissipated, leaving her a shivering mass in his embrace. She blinked back
the wet tears on her lashes, wondering if she was dreaming.

What in the hell just happened
?

“Diskant?”

“It’s over, Ava mine.” His expression was harsh and his eyes
flashed oddly, going from amber, to emerald, to silver.

“What happened? What was that?”

He shook his head and slowly pulled away from her until only
the tip of his cock was embedded in her pussy. Just as carefully pushed back
inside. Even with new and strangely sensitized skin there was no pain now, only
pleasure. Again he withdrew and returned—harder this time. With each thrust,
thoughts of what transpired fled, replaced by newer, better memories.

“Stop distracting me.” She contradicted her request by
arching her hips, taking him deeper. “It’s not fair.”

“Can’t help it.” He increased the pace.

“Diskant…”

Logic told her this was insane. She’d just suffered
something she couldn’t explain and she was willing to let it slide because of
this new inner calling that demanded she take him into her body, claim his
seed, mark him as her own…

“Come with me, baby.” He ignored the worry in her voice and
the question in her eyes. His clawed fingers dug into her hips, guiding her
into a crazed rhythm. “You need this and so do I.”

He bucked his pelvis and she ground against him. Release was
so close, all she had to do was reach out, take hold and claim it. She wrapped
her arms around Diskant’s neck and allowed him to set the pace, relying on his
strength, trusting he would be the one to take them there.

They climaxed together, his cry deep and hoarse, hers soft
and muted. The tension left over from the odd ordeal disappeared, muscles going
soft, leaving her sated and content. She reveled in the way he felt inside her,
basking in the rightness of his weight against her, the heaviness just enough
to keep her trapped but not so much that she couldn’t breathe.

She lifted her head and was stunned to find a still-oozing
bite at his neck—with visible teeth marks. Slowly, the sounds coming from the
club registered. She waited for panic or embarrassment at engaging in sex
inside a very public place, but surprisingly, none came.

“You’re like a drug,” he murmured into her ear before
nipping the lobe. “So damned addictive that no matter what I do I can’t get
enough.”

“It’s your fault, not mine.” Frowning at the stark mark on
his tanned skin, she asked, “What have you done to me?”

The question got an immediate, jolting reaction. Diskant
froze, his chest going still as he held his breath. Suddenly the muscles
against her weren’t yielding but as hard as stone, the weight keeping her
trapped against the wall becoming ten times heavier.

After a tense moment, he said, “We need to talk,” withdrew
from her body, and placed her on unsteady feet. The loss of his presence was
more than physical. It was as if he’d blocked off another part of himself as
well.

Confused and embarrassed, she’d bent down to retrieve her
things when he asked, “How do you know about shifters?”

After everything that had transpired she wasn’t sure what
she’d expected but it certainly wasn’t this. Anger came then, glorious and
ball-breaking in its intensity.

“After everything that’s happened, don’t you think I should
be the one asking the questions?”

He lifted his head, fingers motionless over the fastenings
of his leathers. It dawned on her then that they were both half clothed inside
a bar that catered to shifters, having had explosive sex where everyone could
not only hear them, but could probably smell them as well. Not to mention she
still had no idea what in the hell was going on, and Diskant seemed to
constantly be directing her thoughts to pleasurable pursuits that distracted
her from thinking about anything else.

“There is a room full of shifters out there waiting for an
answer to that question,” he finally said. “I need to know what to tell them.”

“Well, isn’t that sweet? Looking out for your fellow furry
friends,” she replied in a cool, jaded tone. “If only the rest of us were given
the same courtesy.”

“Damn it, Ava,” he growled and readjusted his shirt. “There
isn’t time for this.”

She separated her panties from the jeans and pulled them on,
well aware of the wetness dripping from her sex as a result of his seed and her
release. She went still for a moment, struck dumb by a thought that both
frightened and excited her. For the first time, she considered something she
should have thought of from the start, especially when you weighed the nature
of their relationship thus far.

Could a human and shifter procreate? Was it possible to get
pregnant? She’d always wanted children, had hoped that one day she’d have three
or four of her own. Was it possible to have a family with someone like Diskant?

Like everything else, the notion was placed to the side. A
complication that her overly stimulated body and mind stored away for another,
more fucked-up time.

Furious with herself for being concerned about things she
couldn’t change after the fact, she quipped, “But there is always time to fuck,
right?

The breath caught in her throat and she gasped when he
crossed the distance, grabbed her by the arms and held her against the wall.
The barrier erected between them was obliterated and she was aware of several
things, but it was one—and only one—thing she perceived that both terrified and
exhilarated her.

She was aware of Diskant for the first time.

Even though he had her pinned against the wall, it was
concern—not contempt—that had caused him to place physical, emotional and
mental distance between them.

He was scared for her, worried he had pushed her too far.

He knew it was too soon to give her the second mark, but god
help him, the moment he’d felt her teeth against his throat he had never wanted
anything more and he hadn’t wanted to stop her from tasting his blood. The
moment she reminded him of what he’d done—staring at him with her enormous blue
eyes full of confusion and hurt—guilt had hit like a freight train.

He wanted to reassure her, to take her somewhere they could
be alone and talk. But damn it to hell, he had to meet Trey and Emory to find
out what the fuck was going on. Some serious shit was going down and he didn’t
want his mate anywhere near it.

His mate.

Ava mine.

Each thought was crystal clear, as crisp and detailed as if
he’d spoken aloud.

Jesus Christ and shit.

She could read him.

 

Diskant fought an inner war with himself, desperate to ease
his mate yet forced to see to those waiting for him just outside. Never had he
regretted his status as Omega or wished to be just another shifter in the big
wide fucking world. It was a tremendous responsibility he always respected and
honored. Obligation, however, was a bitch of a mistress when you had to put
others before yourself and the needs of your mate.

The moment they’d entered Dougan’s, he’d known the pack
understood his need for privacy. Newly bonded pairs were always unstable at the
beginning, their desires uncontrollable at best. That understanding,
unfortunately, would only last so long. Already he could sense their unease,
their impatience. Shifters weren’t telepathic by nature but they could
communicate through shared mental images and feelings. He could perceive the
worries of the pack mates outside. They were uncertain and edgy. The one who
had the power to bring all of the shifter races together was newly mated,
making him unstable and unhinged when they needed him most.

Ava gasped and her sapphire blue eyes went wide. He felt her
tremble in his grasp, her full lower lip quivering. Concern for her overrode
the need to protect those who turned to him for guidance. She was the most
important thing in his life now. Without her, he wasn’t complete.

To hell with it. He would make fucking time.

“Pinkie, what’s wrong?”

She jerked as if roused from a sound slumber and looked at
him as if seeing him for the first time. Then she smiled, bestowing the most
cock-rocking grin he’d ever seen, and leaned forward to brush her lips against
his. This kiss was more intentional than the rest, as if she were offering him
a different part of herself. He softened his grip and leaned into her. Her lips
parted and their tongues tangoed, back and forth, side to side. The tenderness
of the movements was not lost on him, nor was the way she pressed against him
like a trusting, sultry armful of woman.

He lifted away and peered into her flushed face. She was
beautiful like this—lips swollen, cheeks flushed. As he moved away and gave her
room he braced for the previous anger he’d been given a dose of and watched in
shock as she retrieved the rest of her clothes and began slipping them on
without another word.

“I know you have a lot of questions,” he said, gauging her
reaction.

She nodded as she buttoned her jeans and bent to pick up her
boots. “I found out about shifters because you were the only people I couldn’t
read. As a child I thought you were special like me. When I got older I
realized there was a lot more to it.”

“Are you a member of the Villati?” The question was direct,
no frilly cushion or chocolate-covered coating.

“No.” At his disbelieving frown, she added, “They’ve
approached me, which is baffling since I haven’t told anyone what I can do. I
can only assume they have some supersecret way to keep tabs on everyone who
isn’t considered normal. I told them to piss off and they have.”

“Is there anything you want to ask me?”

He smoothed his shirt but didn’t bother with the stretched
collar or his jacket. Even though everyone in a given proximity was already
aware, he wanted everyone to see her mark of claim for as long as it lingered
on his skin. He wanted to savor the gift she’d given, show the entire fucking
world she’d staked possession just as clearly as he had.

“No,” she answered and slid into her sneakers.

“No?” he repeated, sure his ears were deceiving him.

“No,” she told him firmly and adjusted her clothes. “You
said we don’t have time for this, so why don’t you take care of what you need
to and we can discuss this after.”

“Are you all right?” He studied her, watching for any
indication the second mark hadn’t done something extra.

“I’m as right as rain.” She actually fucking
smiled
at him. “Are you?”

Christ. She was as mellow now as she had been pissed before.
Nothing made sense, but then, that had been his life the last few weeks.

She crossed the room, running her fingers through her hair.
The blonde and pink strands remained upright in several places while the rest
fell in jagged pieces along her forehead. Standing directly in front of him,
she slowly looked up and placed her hands against his chest. If intended to
ease him, the contact had the exact opposite result. His cock swelled once
more, fully armed and loaded.

“We’d better go.” His words turned into a groan as her hands
descended until her palms rested on his abdomen.

“Okay,” she murmured seductively and rose on her toes to
press a kiss to his throat. His entire body shuddered at the touch of her lips,
muscles going taut.

“If you don’t watch it, I’m going to rip those clothes back
off, put you facedown on the desk and make them wait even longer.”

“Promises, promises.”

“Just wait until I
really
get you alone.”

She pulled away but the smile remained. “Shall we?”

For a moment he allowed that newfound connection between
them to expand. Emotions between mated pairs were enhanced when angry, excited
or frightened, meaning it wasn’t as easy to hide them unless you made a
conscious effort to. Right now her calm and playful demeanor echoed her mood.
In fact, from what he could feel, she was downright amused.

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