The Omega Within (Alpha's Woman Book 5) Read online

  As he lashed that unforgiving leather down onto her soft skin, Garron had to wonder why she continued to defy him. Overall, even when she was cantankerous and first awake, she was rarely openly defiant, and in general, she obeyed the rules he made for her, even those she chafed against. But three mornings in a row, she'd broken a rule he knew that she knew. What was going on?

  She'd had a reason each time, and even if he might have said no, she wouldn't have been punished for asking. Perhaps that was it—or part of it. The asking. But even if it was, it wasn't going to get her out of this punishment.

  By the time he finished, she was a sobbing mess. He warned her to stay put and tucked the belt away. Then he brought her onto the bed with him, being very careful of her newly tanned backside, but keeping her close and purring to soothe her. Garron held her tightly to his side while she cried it out. He'd learned that providing solace after he'd punished her or even after he'd bred her, essentially anytime that she was feeling vulnerable, was a large part of his end of maintaining—and strengthening—their bond.

  And it was extremely easy to do. The purring came naturally to him as a reaction to her stress, and he liked keeping her close, too. He knew she had a hard time with all of the restrictions he had put in place and the many rules he expected her to follow, but, even unconsciously, in bed at night, she would curve herself into him, cleaving to him.

  So, he held her, letting her cry it out. Her backside was very sore looking, and he avoided it as he rubbed his hand up and down her back.

  Garron loved it when she clung to him for any reason, which was a first for him with a female, and this aftermath—after care—was one of the times she was the neediest in that way. Even when she had begun to calm down and made as if she wanted to move away from him, he kept here right there against him.

  "Why won't you ask me for permission to get down, when you know I'm going to tan your hide for not doing so, Ollyah?"

  He'd nailed it this time; he knew it.

  Olly sighed, pressing her face against his chest in a way that he knew meant that she didn't want to answer him.

  But all he had to do was gently cup an angry red cheek, and she yelped.

  "B-because I don't want to wake you," she whispered, not looking at him.

  "Ollyah," he chided, tone scolding. "If I didn't want you to wake me, I wouldn't have made that rule."

  She shrugged. "Yes, but you need your sleep. This, here," she motioned to the two of them, "is exhausting, and you have a camp to run, too." She'd only just realized that he was the one who was responsible for everything—including her. "You don't get much sleep. I just didn't want to be another reason why you didn't get any sleep."

  He couldn't possibly be angry with her for that, although he was dismayed that she felt she couldn't do what he'd asked her to do, at the same time. He tipped her eyes to his. "Don't do this again. It is not for you to decide whether or not I can be awakened. I have told you that I expect it of you. Is that clear?"

  She almost pouted but answered dutifully, "Yes, Sir."

  The next morning, she had done as he asked, and he had praised her for it, hoping that that might make it easier for her to obey him.

  She was right that he didn't get much sleep, but then, as far as she could tell, he didn't require anywhere near as much as the rest of humanity seemed to.

  He preferred to be awake when she first opened her eyes. Her clear headedness upon awakening meant that she wasn't as malleable as she usually was, and he loved the challenge of pushing her past her tendency to want to ignore or even outright deny the reality of her existence.

  She was likely to try to avoid or even fight him when he reached for her, and he thoroughly enjoyed subduing her. It took a little while for the frenzy of her heat to take hold, but he gave her no quarter.

  "No, Sir, I'm too sore. No, please!" she whispered on the last day of her heat, when they could both feel it waning. She tried to wiggle out of his hold, even though she had to know by now that it was an impossibility.

  Her hand came up to try to push his mouth away from nipples that were incredibly sensitive from the long days and nights of him attending to them quite avidly, not to mention how being in heat made them feel as if they needed that constant stimulation or she was likely to die.

  Still, Olly found it terribly embarrassing how quickly he rendered her protests moot, catching those hands and holding them behind her back, which had the added effect of causing her to offer up her breasts to those sharp-edged teeth of his.

  "Oh no, no teeth!" she whimpered, but she was panting and gasping as she begged, so it lost quite a bit of its intent.

  He grinned down at her, ignoring her struggles and tugging her wrists down further so that he could cover nearly every bit of her breasts with his mouth. It was getting harder for him to do that already, and he reveled in the changes in her body.

  Garron only hoped that some of them were in conjunction less with her fattening up, and more with her being pregnant. He wondered how quickly he could find out about that and made a mental note to see the doc again.

  But for the moment, he contented himself with nibbling her all over as he held her pinned to the bed by nothing more than his weight on her. He'd worried about that a lot at first, but she didn't seem to notice it much—she never asked him to get off her, especially since she'd come into heat. Sometimes she burrowed under him when they were in bed together, and he'd wake up half on her, which gave him a heart attack until he realized she was fine.

  With the fire of her heat fading, she felt things a little differently from how she had during the height of it, but her loins were no less responsive to his attentions. Her mind wanted her to protest more, but it was like screaming into a canyon—she had the thoughts, but they floated away. It took them a little longer the more her heat receded, but almost all he had to do was touch her and she was putty in his hands.

  One of the habits she had developed during her heat that she hoped died away entirely was something she was currently fighting the urge to do. And she lost, of course, the moment his fingers found her down there and began to stroke her in a way that revealed that he had learned too much about what she liked.

  Despite the fact that her insides—and her outsides—felt raw and sore, she couldn't even keep herself from begging when, as she faced away from him to do what she knew would only make it worse, raising her ever dripping backside to him and spreading her legs. "Please, Sir?"

  He was wearing a small smile—something she had been glad to see he did sometimes—laughing, too, although less often as he looked at her dotingly. "Little girl, you know I can't deny you what you want when you offer yourself to me so prettily." As he moved her around like a rag doll, he warned throatily, "I know you're feeling hard used, and this is going to hurt you even more, honey."

  Seconds later, she would have sworn she could feel him at the back of her throat. No matter how many times he took her, she never got used to his size, and she didn't think it would ever get any easier for her to take him, and although she was embarrassed to even think it, she wasn't sure she wanted it to get any easier.

  And she was getting her wish this time. He'd fucked her so often that, even though she knew he was smooth, he felt like sandpaper inside her, rubbing particularly against that spot where he stuck her every time. She should have been weeping and begging him not to.

  The realization that she wasn't should have been chilling to her—and it was, in the deepest recesses of her brain. But those parts of her were completely overwhelmed by her hindbrain and the fact that it was in league not only with him, but her own body, against the rest of her mind. Pain was pleasure, and pleasure was pain, and her Alpha made sure she had plenty of both.

  He picked her up, holding her against him as he thrust into her, and placed a big hand over her lower belly. She was still so thin, he would swear that he could feel himself inside her.

  "I'm going to have to pierce you now, girl," he whispered, enjoying the feel of her
trying to struggle against the inevitable.

  "No, please, Sir!" she barely whimpered.

  "You know I have to, little one," he rasped, nuzzling her neck as he curved the fingers of his other hand over her shoulder, so that he had better control of her. Then he pushed her further down onto his cock, pulling her up as he sank that hard, sharp part of himself into her sensitive wall, only just then beginning to purr, low and deep, when he could feel himself pierce her.

  She was wilder—came much harder, much more often, and for longer—when he didn't give her as much as he could in the way of pain relief and soothing. He had observed her very carefully over the past week plus and had come to be able to keep her right where he wanted her to be, on the razor's edge between too much pain and too little pleasure. Garron considered it a great achievement to be able to get and keep her there when he took her, and her desperation—from both sides of the coin—made her utterly frantic and even more vulnerable to and utterly dependent upon him.

  He thought that those things, too, were going to be the key to a successful breeding.

  As her entrance began to reluctantly stretch open around him, he felt her succumb to him more fully, and she was almost limp in his arms from the swirling emotions and sensations he was subjecting her to. He liked it very much when she got to that stage, when she was the most his, the most receptive to his seed, he would be willing to bet.

  This time, the last of her heat, he dragged it out for the both of them as much as he could. He teased her and himself at the same time with her culmination, tweaking her clit sometimes rather than stroking it, setting her back a bit, keeping her from the edge but letting her see it as he fucked her in ways he knew made her even crazier. He made absolutely certain that he bound her to him physically, mentally, and emotionally while cautiously granting her the potent combination of pain and pleasure that she craved.

  She screamed helplessly as her entire body convulsed—most particularly around where he was splitting her apart. And, as usual, her bliss hurled him into his own with a loud, husky cry as he held her tightly to him, getting as far into her as he could, knowing he was notched against her cervix and trying to deliver his semen as close to directly into it as he could. He wanted a baby from her, and he would have one—many more than one—if he had to fuck her all day every day until she was well and truly caught.

  Garron was still hunched over her, both of them bellowing out their breaths, him refusing to relinquish her, and Olly essentially hanging from his arms above the bed. They were still connected but no longer knotted, when he heard a wholly unwanted, "Commander," spoken quietly outside his tent.

  He lowered her gently to the bed, on her stomach, so that her bottom—which was as raw and sore as her insides at least—wasn't in contact with anything, and she simply lay exactly where he put her. But when he began to move off the bed, she mewled and reached for him.

  He might have found that cloying in another woman, but he understood how exposed she felt when she wasn't with him, purling softly at her. "I have to go to the door, little girl. What is your rule?"

  "Stay put," she pouted.

  He patted her bottom firmly, enough to remind her to behave, then threw a robe on and went to the tent flap.

  Seconds later, instead of climbing back into bed with her, he instead began to get dressed.

  Their little interlude—their week out of time, away from the world, that he should probably never have allowed them to take—was ending abruptly.

  They had been spotted, and their scouts hadn't been able to catch and kill the lookouts that would inevitably be running right back to Zerk and his forces, where they were gathered in his stronghold.

  As he dressed, he thought of his omega, and wanted to kick himself for putting her in danger like this. He never should have indulged himself in having her in the first place, but now that it was done, he had to do everything he could to be safe.

  Chapter 7

  While Garron was alone, trying to make up for the time he'd spent with his omega, there was a meeting of minds among those who had gathered to fight for Zerk's outpost.

  There was the man himself, who knew he needed to be there, and he wanted to be there, but he also wanted to be with his mate, who was pregnant. He never thought he'd see the day when his strong warrior of an omega ended up needy and weepy, but the further her pregnancy advanced, the more she seemed to fall apart and need him beside her.

  But she, too, was torn, because she knew from her own experience in his army that he needed to be away from her sometimes, and Cat would tell him so—through the tears.

  Everyone seemed to have brought their omegas, which surprised him, but he supposed that he would be no more interested in leaving his than they were in leaving theirs.

  Vaudt's woman had already volunteered, through him, to treat anyone she could, although they still had the problem that she was an omega, and that meant solely women and children. And, although he'd dutifully delivered the message, Vaudt hadn't looked as if he was all that happy with the idea of her being anywhere but wherever was the safest possible place. He didn't give a fuck about anyone else. He'd tried to discourage her from even making the offer, but despite the fact that he was a fierce warrior and a demanding Alpha, he could rarely deny her anything.

  She rarely asked him for anything, either, and yet she had provided him with the most precious things in life—a son and a daughter, who both had their father as firmly wrapped around their fingers as he was around hers—although her rear end would most often tell a different story.

  The fact that they had discovered that she was pregnant again once they'd gotten here nearly had him turning back immediately.

  But he stayed, knowing that, ultimately, what he was doing was going to make them all safer in the long run.

  His second, Kosh, and his omega, Tura, were here, also, with their child, a daughter, and his omega was also carrying again. She had learned to read as well as he could and was already teaching their little girl both that and the ability to fight and defend herself.

  Kosh knew that Tura was concerned that their little Bima might be an omega like her mother, and, in what he admitted to himself was a weak moment, he'd granted that she would be able to choose her own mate, rather than him choosing one for her.

  Redbeard was there, also. Ciaran had arrived first, before anyone else, as he had already been making his way back toward the base when he discovered that his Ebby was caught. He and his omega had been given comfortable rooms not too far from Zerk's, and she and his omega, Cat, were becoming fast friends. That seemed only natural, since they were both warriors.

  Now that he had met them all, it seemed that most of them were quite accomplished in the martial arts, and he would never fail to be amazed at that notion, and all of them were either learning to read or already knew how. One of them was essentially a doctor, too, although she called herself something like "nurse,” whatever that was.

  It had already been agreed that she would tend to the sick or wounded women and children—Vaudt had put his foot down about her ever interacting with the men, which was understandable. Zerk was amazed that he allowed her to help in any way at all, considering that she was breeding.

  They had all met the previous night in a conference room deep in the bowels of the town, with as much secrecy and care not to rouse the interest of any other men as possible, and even though they all knew each other fairly well, they stood around watching their omegas bond at least as closely with each other as they were with them.

  They might not have known each other—except in Tura and Emmy's case—but they had very common and unusual experiences in common—they were all bonded to Alphas. That and the children made for talking points that brought them all together.

  The fact that they were all pregnant made them laugh, while their husbands looked on with inordinate pride, as if they'd each done something amazing that no other man had ever done, of course.

  The women sat down and talked, sharing a
necdotes about their mates, comparing experiences being pregnant with an Alpha's baby—which was right in Emmy's wheelhouse—and commiserating about being omegas. They were—every one of them—strong, independent women. It seemed to be a dichotomous trait about omegas, who were fated to submit totally to their Alpha. All of them had, to a woman, and with no complaints from their men, but they hadn't lost themselves in the process, although it was something they each confessed they had worried about, especially in the beginning.

  "I don't know about yours, but mine is so damned bossy!"

  Vaudt cleared his throat, warning, "Little girl," in a deep, scolding tone.

  Emmy bit her lip, knowing she'd probably just earned herself a punishment, but every one of the women around the table nodded their heads in agreement.

  And, in unison, the rest of them said exactly the same thing, in almost identical tones.

  "Little girl."

  Three more lips were bitten in consideration of three more expected punishments.

  But then Ebby said, "I hate it when he calls me that!"

  "Me, too!" everyone agreed.

  "But getting spanked is worse!"

  The females in the room all groaned, and there were shouts of "Hell yes!" and "Yes, yes, yes!"

  "Perhaps getting them together wasn't the best of ideas," Ciaran mused, wrapping the fingers of a big hand around his omega's upper arm and helping her to stand.

  Each of the other women were claimed and brought to their Alpha's side, but Emmy's hands were full, with a baby in her arms and one toddling at her feet. Vaudt came forward instantly to take the baby from her, cradling her against his broad chest with practiced ease as he gently repositioned Keev out of his mother's way and helped her out of her chair.

  The men in the room had to look away from the strong emotions they saw in the enormous warrior's eyes as he looked at his woman, uncomfortable at recognizing the same feelings they had, themselves, for their own mates.