Page 38 of One Way Out
They take off, scurrying back the way they came. That hallway leads to the cafeteria, but they’ll have to return to their cell at some point before lockdown.
I laugh, and the sound echoes under my mask. “Apparently, they’re more afraid of you than they are of me. What did they do, anyway?”
“They got pushy about offering Saylor their protection. She made it clear she wasn’t interested. They continued to force the issue.” Leo spins, appraising the now-empty hallway. “I think I’ll follow them. I want to see what they do next and who they speak to.”
Omen nods, grabbing Leo’s towel and dirty clothes from under the alpha’s arm. He bundles them up with his laundry and tosses them at my chest. “I’ll keep Leo company. Give our omega a kiss for me.”
* * *
Saylor’s bliss hits me in the bond before I even get the door to our room open. Her perfume spills out, and I haul ass inside, making sure the door closes tight behind me.
Spinning around, my gaze meets Shaw’s as he appraises me.
Saylor is stretched out on the couch with her head and shoulders touching the cushion, but her ass is on the arm of the sofa with her legs dangling over the far end. Shaw is on his knees between her thighs, and I’m sure he had his face buried in her cunt about three seconds ago.
It’s the blade in his left hand that makes my head tilt. I looked all over the cafeteria for that thing—even asked Conrad where it disappeared to.
Shaw is fast.
I never noticed him nick it.
He nods and shoves the knife into his boot before burying his face back in Saylor’s pussy. His left hand flattens on her stomach while his right works in and out of her slick sex.
Being able to feel her euphoria helps distract me from the urge to murder him with my bare hands.
Rationally, I consider him an ally.
Instinctually speaking, the strong urge to decimate any alpha who’s that close to my omega is natural.
Instincts are a fucking pain in the ass, but I stifle the growl and take the huge pile of laundry over, dumping it in the bin Omen designated for dirty clothes.
“Please, I ache for you. Your knot! I want your knot!” Saylor whines, thrashing around the couch. “Please, Shaw.”
My heart races.
As much as I’d love to keep her to myself forever, heats are complicated. Omen and I managed the rolling waves, but an actual heat cycle lasts five to seven days. When single couple pairings were common, omegas suffered because one partner wasn’t enough to meet their sexual needs.
Omegas need alpha pheromones and semen to settle the cramps and fever. Otherwise, it’s agony. Omen can help give her orgasms, but even with the two of us, I don’t feel confident we could keep up.
It’s also the omega’s choice of who gets to participate in said heat, you stubborn fuck.It really isn’t my call—no matter what my instincts have to say about it.
“I told you, princess. You can suck me off once we’re done, but I’m not sliding inside you just yet. Now, come all over my tongue!” Shaw barks.
Saylor whines again, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up. My instincts scream to give her whatever she wants. I can’t believe he’s clear enough to deny her. Her pheromones are about to do my fucking head in.
She writhes around, digging her fingers into his scalp. My cock jumps as I remember exactly what her slick tastes like. Feeling her euphoria flood the bond doesn’t help me stay clear for shit.
The little omega proceeds to beg, plead, and demand he bite her, but Shaw doesn’t stop lavishing attention on her clit.
Her eyes pop open, and her gaze swivels to meet mine. The chance she caught my scent is very low. I think she tracked me using the bond, and that makes my heart thump as my stomach somersaults.
Goddamn.
She’s so fucking pretty.
Shaw pulls his hand free of Saylor’s pussy and shoves at his joggers. Glancing over his shoulder at me, he says, “She’s not very good at following the rules, and I know she’s going to ask for more. How do you feel about holding her in place for me?”
“Are you open to that, little one?” I ask, striding over as Shaw pulls her up.
