Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

EMMELINE

Pain and pleasure pour over me like hot lava stinging me from the inside out. My fingers move in a blur as I stuff the dirty clothes and used sheets into shapes that have no meaning. Every now and then, I pause long enough to bury my face in the heap and inhale.

Branson.

God, his scent is addicting. Leather and whiskey surround me, threatening to pull me under with the warm, decadent notes. Where is he? Even though I'm staving off complete madness with each breath I take, it's not the same. It's not him.

Soft whimpers pour from my lips as I continue to work, continue to build this nest. Am I even doing it right? I've never had to build a nest before, never had to worry about it. In the midst of the arousal threatening to double me over, a deep rage builds in my chest.

What the hell was she even thinking, putting me at risk like this? Since saying ‘I do' to the massive, handsome EMT who saw me at my worst, I was smitten. I wanted him to want me, to love me, to take me from this desolation. But my mother always stood in the way with her threats.

Now, there's nothing separating us. Whether she did this on purpose or not, the choice is still mine. Branson gave me that choice when he offered to use nasal suppressors. Mother never did. Tears drip from my eyes, staining the sheets as I continue to push and pull, tug and yank.

Almost perfect. I can't tell how I know that, but it's something deep inside, something that urges me to continue on. Groaning, I fluff up Branson's clothes, making small nooks and crannies in the growing pile.

"I'd much rather have your slick making these fabrics wet rather than your tears."

Dark whiskey and leather invade my nose, making my stomach cramp and slick pour from my pussy. I can't speak, I can't breathe, I can only cry out, desperately needing his touch to soothe the pain and need.

"I hear you, sweet girl," he grumbles, making his way over to me. "As soon as you finish your nest, I'm going to fuck you in it. I'm going to fuck that pretty little pussy so hard you won't even be able to think about anyone or anything else."

He doesn't have to say it. I know he's talking about my mother.

"Please," I whimper.

I need his pain, his indomitable will to drive these demons from my mind, to make me whole in a way only he can.

"May I enter your nest?"

He's asking?

"Answer me, omega," he rumbles. "And the answer better be yes. I can't hold back for much longer."

I gaze up into his eyes. The normal light hues are a dark, stormy gray with only a small sliver of light as his pupils expand. Unholy, dark, deviant...

Mine.

Nodding, I motion toward the pitiful mass of fabrics, ashamed with how small it looks. As if he can read my mind, he runs his hands over the lumps and bumps and smiles.

"Next time, we'll be more prepared, and I'll have better things for you to use. But this nest is beautiful. I can't wait to defile it with my cum, your slick, and our blood."

He presses me down and runs his tongue over my shoulder, making me shudder under his rough touch. Yes, my brain screams out, needing his teeth to embed in my body, to make me his for all eternity. But he doesn't. The bastard teases me by scraping his teeth and beard along my skin, only to pull away.

Soft growls buzz in my chest and throat as I claw at him, my need growing with every passing second. His large hands engulf my wrists and pin them to the bed, rendering me helpless. But then, that's how I want it from him, that's how I want to feel under his massive body.

Helpless.

It's no longer because I want plausible deniability. It's because this is where I feel most safe, most cherished, most... loved.

Spreading my legs, I open myself up to him, offering my body as his sacrifice. Thoughts flee as he impales me with one strong stroke. God, yes. This is what I need. This is what I crave.

It's the only thing that keeps the voices at bay, that keeps the pain away, and that keeps me sane. I buck my hips up to meet his ferocious strokes. Our cries of pleasure flood the room, drowning out every sound. His rumbled growls intersperse with my lighter moans, creating an erotic cacophony that sends shivers down my spine and slick spilling from my pussy.

Over and over he slams into me, sparking pleasure along my nerves with every stroke. My insides twist and cramp until all I can do is gasp as the ecstasy builds. When he finally lets my hands go, I tear at his back, scoring my nails down his skin until the scent of copper fills the air.

His roar of satisfaction ripples over my skin, sending me over the edge. My orgasm explodes through me, flowing over my body and pouring out from my mouth in a loud cry. Branson digs his fingers into my hips, holding me still as he pummels my body with his, each stroke harder and fiercer than the last.

My body begins to coil again in that telltale way that signals another orgasm. It builds, making my muscles twitch as frissons of pleasure dance along my spine and nerve endings. My pussy stretches as his knot expands, opening me up even more, stretching me to the point where I worry I might break. But I don't. I never do.

As soon as his knot locks behind my pelvic bone, hitting that magical spot that drives me wild, I explode again as shards of agonizing need scatter over my body. His head is once more at my neck, licking me, soothing me, preparing me for what's about to come as his hot cum bathes my insides, making my inner walls clench and ripple around his thick girth.

The instant his teeth embed in my shoulder, my body stills. Instead of pain as I was expecting, it's an amalgamation of both erotic torture and relief, as if my body has been primed for this one moment. Colors burst from behind my closed eyelids as I scream myself hoarse from the pleasure he forces from me with each stroke of his fingers on my clit.

Silver threads, so small and thin I can barely see them, barely feel them, fly between our hearts, linking us together. They double, triple, flying so fast, I can barely keep up. It winds around us, connecting us together forever.

His heart beats as one with mine. Each breath is in time with my own. One. We are finally one. Nothing and no one will ever separate us. As each thread winds around, pulling us even closer, it feels right, as if we were always meant to be in this place, in this space and time, where we meld together into a solitary unit.

Strong, undivided, united. Never alone. With his heart beating in my chest, his love bathing me from the inside out, I will never be alone again.

He pulls his teeth from my shoulder and laps at the wound before dragging a bit of sheet over to staunch it as best as he can. But that's not what I care about. Not right now. The feral need to claim him in return, to mark him as mine as he did me, beats in my brain.

My fingers scrabble over his chest as I do my best to lower my body. There's a reluctance there. I can feel it through the bond like a discordant note pinging from an untuned piano. Bringing my eyes to his, I search his gaze, not understanding why I can't have him, why he denies me so.

With a heavy sigh, he turns us over until he's on his back, allowing me access to his body, even though I'm still impaled on his engorged knot. Bloodlust and need run through my veins, painful, as if stinging nettles flay me from the inside out, spurring me forward to complete the circuit.

Finally, he rests his hand on the back of my head and shifts me lower, directing me to the space over his heart. Yes. This is what I need. This will ease the pang of discomfort banging around in my heart. I lick his chest, moaning at the salty taste of his skin.

With a savage roar of my own, I bite down, my pussy spasming into a mini orgasm as copper fills my mouth. The threads, so small at first, double, triple, multiply until I honestly can't tell where I end and he begins. Thoughts, images, and memories slam into my mind as if they're my own.

But I know they're not. They can't be. I don't remember any of the pictures flashing through my mind. I don't recognize the rooms he walks in and out of. Nothing.

Until I do.

I know those people. The ones smiling at him in the first apartment we were in. I know the older Alpha man standing next to the younger two beaming at him with such love, such maternal and paternal feelings flowing off of them. The omega is in my school. Or, at least, she was until we graduated.

How does he know the Astorfords? And why do they act as if they know him and love him? He's just a simple EMT, a common man, salt of the earth. How... Why...

I pull away and look up at the man beneath me, noting the regret in his eyes, the way it floods the bond, tainting us. Lies. It was all lies.

Sunlight shatters the inviting darkness, piercing my eyes as I blink up at the intrusion. The scent of breakfast wafts over to me, making my stomach cramp and growl. My heat. I remember that much. Groaning, I pull myself out of the sticky nest and look down at my body.

Bruises, scratches, and gouges cover me, as well as his cum encrusting nearly every inch. I should feel disgusting being this dirty, but somehow, it makes it all the more erotic. I shift my hips, wincing as my thighs burn and my pussy twinges.

Well used, depleted, and satiated.

I rub my hand over my heart, feeling the bond snap between us. He's not happy. That much I can tell. As I rise to get out of the nest, Branson walks in with two plates. He's glorious in his nakedness, covered in just as many bruises and cuts as I am.

At least I'm not the only one to come out of this scarred. At my unspoken joke, he smiles, his lopsided grin not meeting his eyes. He's concerned, worried about my reaction to what I saw when we bonded.

Without saying a word, I take the plate from him, no longer worried about how I look. My gut clenches as intense hunger rages through my body. We both eat in silence as we fill that void from several days without eating, neither of us really looking at each other.

Once the hunger pains die down, I finally speak. "Why did you lie to me?"

A heavy sigh flits from his lips as he puts the plate on his lap and looks at me. "I didn't. Not really. Legally, my name is now Afford. I had it changed when I moved out of my parents' house."

"But I don't understand. You had everything. Your family is the richest of the five families. That is, if I'm recalling the right people. Astorford. Am I right?"

"You're right. They are my parents. And you, of all people, should understand why I changed my name, why I left without taking a bit of their money."

The bond ripples inside my chest. "Because of my mother."

"She's one of the reasons, but it's more systemic than that. My parents seem to be the exception rather than the rule when it comes to wealth. They are philanthropic to their core. Many others, especially in the five families, are more concerned about how they look, or what underhanded ways they can get their money."

"I have heard some odd stories about your family. But then, they were from my mother, so it's impossible to know whether or not she's accurate or skewed."

"Probably a little of both. But that's a bit off topic. I wanted to help people. Well, that, and I never did have a good head for figures. Not when it came to money. From as young as I remembered, I wanted to actually do good for others. Not just send money and hope it helps. But there's no way I could do that with my family name still attached to me. Since my eldest brother was ready and willing to step into the family business with finance, it allowed me to do what I wanted."

"And your parents were okay with that?" Shock floods my system as I stare at this man, looking at him as if he's a stranger to me.

"That's where our families differ. My parents only want me happy and safe. Same for my siblings. Honestly, I think the only reason the others aren't rebelling as much as I did is because they actually want to work in the financial sector. They're happiest there. I never was."

As I mull over his words, I feel a jangle in the bond. My husband, normally so unflappable, so steady, sits there, his heart pounding in his chest as he worries about our future. But I have nothing I can say to comfort him. Not really. I'm still reeling from the revelation.

"I can understand if you hate me. I'll make it up to you somehow, someway. I just..."

"What I don't understand is why you never told me. Even after being married?"

The hopeless shrug he gives me tears at my heart. There's a desolation I feel in his soul, a longing to love and be loved for who he is and not just his name. It's a longing I understand all too well.

Resting my hand over the bandaged mark over his chest, I give him as warm of a smile as I possibly can. "I understand. And trust me when I say this. I don't care that you came from wealth and hid it from me. Honestly, I was hoping with all my heart that I could marry someone that my mother wouldn't approve of. I didn't want to be some trophy to be set aside until it's time to breed me. I wanted to continue my art, to live with love."

"If you ask me to, I'll go back to my name. I'll allow my parents to give us all the money they've been dying to throw our way. I just don't want you to hate me. Ever."

Setting the plate to the side, I brush my lips against his. "I could never hate you. Granted, there was a moment there where I was a bit angry. All the angst with my mother could have been avoided if you were an Astorford. But fuck her. I don't need that name or money. You give me more than any rich dick could ever give me."

The bond swells as his love and happiness pours into me. "Truly?"

"You drove away the loneliness. You gave me love. You saw me when no one else ever did. That's worth far more to me than any amount of money ever could."

A soft growl ripples from his throat as he deepens the kiss, causing my pussy to flutter at the depth of love and craving I feel pounding through the bond.

"Well then, Mrs. Afford, finish your breakfast so I can clean you up, only to dirty you all over again."