Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

EMMELINE

I glance over my shoulder as the sexy as sin EMT crouches behind me. Too close. Far too close. I can't do this. I can't see this. He can't be here.

An Alpha like him in my room? I'd be locked up with no hope of escape. Forget school. Forget the girls I can convince myself are my friends. Forget life as I now know it.

"Please," I whimper, my voice rasping and deep, nothing like I'm used to hearing it. "I- I can't. You can't."

"Sure you can," he coaxes, bringing my fingers up against my clit, as he calls it, again. "Just rub a little here. Nothing to it. Why, I bet you're going to be a pro at this. You want this plug out, don't you?"

"Yes!" I cry out. "More than anything."

"Then get to stroking."

"But I-"

With a huff, he sits back on his heels and looks at me. Disappointment lines his face. I know, because it's the same look I see on Mother's face nearly every day. Humiliation and sorrow beat at my chest as I shake my head.

Why can't I do this? Why can't I just do what he asks of me? Then he'll be happy with me. I won't have to feel the same recrimination I do day in and day out.

"The way I see it," he grumbles, sliding off the gloves. "We have a few options. You may choose from any of them, but you will choose, and you will follow through. One, I pack you up and take you to the local ER. You'll have to deal with forms, probably your parents being notified, and all that jazz."

I shake my head as rapidly as my neck will allow, terror creeping up my throat at the very idea of my mother finding out.

"Two," he continues, "You pleasure yourself so you can relax enough for me to take this plug out. Three, I give you a sedative to make you limp and compliant."

"Oh! That sounds like a good option-"

The EMT holds up his hand, cutting me off. "I'm not sure how long it will sedate you for exactly. There's always the risk you'll still be under the effects when your servants get home."

"Oh."

"It's still an option if you want me to have complete control."

Is it me, or do his eyes darken as he watches me, waiting for my answer? An odd sensation claws up my spine, bringing more of that horrid arousal dripping from my body. As if in slow motion, I watch, helpless, as he looks down at my private area and smiles.

"Seems like you find that option intriguing." He pulls a syringe from his pocket as his grin grows even larger.

"N- no. No I don't."

"Your body says otherwise."

"Drat," I mutter under my breath, shifting my hips. All it does is make the ache and arousal worse. "Are those my only options?"

"There's one more." With a dashing smirk, he leans around me until our faces are so close together, I swear he might kiss me. "I could always stroke your clit until you relax enough for me to get the plug out." His grayish blue eyes darken again until they're stormy. "Choice is yours, little omega. But make it quickly if you don't want to get caught."

Something akin to exhilaration flows through me as I study this stranger's face. Can I really try things with this man and not get caught? Biting down on my lower lip, I glance over at the clock. Not much time. Even if I wanted to do it myself, it probably won't work as quickly as it would from someone who knows what they're doing.

And he certainly looks like he knows what he's doing.

"And no one will ever know?"

"Not unless you tell them, Princess."

The way he says princess this time is almost tender, as if he's savoring the word instead of using it as a slur against me. Against my better judgment, it makes me feel warm and fuzzy, cared for, almost.

"Can you help me, then? I- I don't think I'll do a good enough job."

His lips part as he runs his hand over my exposed backside. "Nothing would make me happier. What I need you to do is bend your upper half down until your face rests against the pillows and breathe for me. That's all you need to do."

"But Trixie didn't-"

"Fuck, Trixie," he growls. "You're not Trixie. Your Emmeline Astencourt, and I'm the EMT who's going to get this plug out of your ass. Cheek to pillow, now."

His dark, commanding tone sends another shiver up my spine, and I rush to obey him. It's somehow different when he's ordering me around. When Mother does it, there's a strident note to her voice, a hysteria that seems to underline every syllable and utterance.

When this Alpha does it, he's completely in control. Whatever it is, whatever subtle difference it is that makes my gut churn, it also makes me weak in the knees. This is a dangerous, dangerous game I'm playing. But he's a professional. If he says no one will find out, then I have to trust him. Na?ve as that is.

The instant my head touches the pillow, he pulls on another set of gloves. The snap sounds in my ears, loud like thunder booming across the sky. But I don't jump. I don't even flinch. Just his hand on my skin allows me to relax until I'm almost a puddle beneath him.

And that's when I feel it. A ragged hum buzzes across my skin, as if he's vibrating behind me. I want to crane my neck around so I can see what he's doing, but I'm far too boneless to do so. Does this mean he drugged me?

"Shhhhh, Emmeline," he whispers against my skin. "I can smell your anxiety. What seems to be the cause of it? I mean, besides the obvious plug up your ass."

"That vibration. What is it?"

For a moment, everything stops, allowing clarity to slam into me. Before I can fully process it, he starts again. "Has no one ever purred for you before? Not even a nanny?"

"No one."

"Well then," he murmurs as he lowers his hand to caress my lower lips. "I truly feel sorry for you, Princess. Now lie still and let me take care of you."

I close my eyes, trying my best to concentrate on what he's doing. His touch feels like heaven, lighting me up with just the gentlest graze of his fingers. The ache begins to grow, filling me until everything cramps with need. A soft moan flits through my lips, filling the space between us as he runs the pad of his finger over my clit.

"Such a responsive thing." His voice is deep and raspy, sending pinpricks of pleasure dotting my skin.

As he continues to stroke me, his free hand drifts up to the plug. I want to be afraid as he gives it a tug, but I find I'm far too distracted by the delicious sensations swirling through me.

"That's right, little princess," he croons, stroking me a bit faster. "Just relax. Let me take care of you. Just like that. You're doing so good for me."

I soak up his words of praise, lapping up those rare utterances as a balm for my ragged soul. Instead of soothing me, however, all it does is stir up the resentment I have lying dormant underneath, so far down that it takes this sort of emergency to draw it out.

It shouldn't be a stranger praising me. I shouldn't be hanging on his every word as he drags deprived moans from my lips. Stuffing my face into the pillow, I swallow the sound, unable to let myself hear it.

"No, no, little princess," he chuckles. "I want to hear you, every last sound as I make you come."

He twists the plug as he tugs on it, drawing a pained whimper from my lips. The only problem is, it doesn't hurt nearly as much as it should. The pain morphs, somehow, transforms as he touches me, driving heat deep into my body.

"That's it. Don't hold back on me. You're doing so fucking good. Keep relaxing. You're almost to the largest part."

He pulls again as his fingers continue to play with me, making my insides clench until it's almost impossible to breathe. The stretch in my rear is intense, adding to the confusion and need swirling inside me. The burn travels through my body until I fear I can't take anymore.

As I part my lips to beg him to stop, a completely different sound bursts forth. A pleasured cry rends the air as everything in me shatters. Spots dance before my eyes as I turn my face to the pillow and scream. I know he wants to hear it, but it's far too loud, far too intense to let anyone, even him, hear the ungodly noise pouring from me.

The plug slides out of me as I sob in relief. I lie there, my body quivering as emotions race through me at breakneck speed. I almost don't hear the snap of his gloves as he takes them off and runs his hands up and down my body.

"You did so good for me," he whispers, keeping his touch gentle and soothing.

Soft cries wrack my body as I turn to the side and curl in on myself, allowing the emotions I normally hold at bay to pour out of me. The EMT just holds me, his soft murmurs comforting me like nothing else has before. The minutes tick by as I lie there, unable to move, unable to think, unable to breathe.

"There now. I take it that was your first orgasm?"

I sniffle and nod, not ready to actually speak yet.

Again, he curls me into his arms and lets me process for a bit. After a few more minutes, he pulls back. "I don't know when your servants are going to get back, but it would be better for you if they didn't catch us like this. I'll have the ambulance driver come back, and I'll stage this as a blackout or something else."

"Please," I croak. "Just spin it to something that won't embarrass my parents."

"I can't guarantee that, since I don't know what they consider embarrassing, but I'll do my best."

As he talks to the other person on his communicator, I pull my pants back up and gather the trash. Helpless, I look around the room, still not sure if my backpack is the best place to put it all. When he ends the call, he smiles at me and holds out his bag.

"I'll take all that, if you want. Butt plug included. Can't have the maids finding stuff, can we?"

Relief floods my system, making me sag against the bed. "You've helped me so much, but I don't even know your name."

"Branson. But my friends call me Ace."

"Thank you, Mr. Branson."

With a wink, he leans over and pulls a blood pressure cuff up my arm. "Pretty sure we can qualify as friends now. I don't pleasure just anyone."

Heat floods my face as I look away, a smile tugging at my lips. As the cuff tightens, he pulls out a piece of paper and scribbles some stuff on it. "Here. Next time you're feeling adventurous, give me a call. I'd rather help you out before things get to an emergency state."

"Oh," I cry out. "I'm sorry, but I can't socialize with people like you." Even as I say it, I groan, wishing I'd been able to think of a better way.

"Someone like me?" He pulls back the paper and frowns. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Alphas," I rapidly amend, praising myself for my quick thinking. "Mother won't let me consort with Alphas."

"I see." His lips draw down into a frown, but he doesn't push the issue.

"You know what I mean," I plead with him, desperate to make him understand that this slighting is not all my fault.

"Yes," he growls. "I know what you mean. I've dealt with enough rich people during the course of my life to be able to read between the lines."

"Please," I beg again. "You don't understand."

"Trust me. I do."

"But my mother-"

He cuts me off with a wave of his hand and abruptly changes the subject. "If you ever get the bright idea to shove something into another one of your holes without knowing what you're doing, don't. I assure you, you don't want to meet me like this again."

My mouth dries as he goes about checking my vitals, acting as if we hadn't just shared such an intimate moment. So stupid of me to open my mouth. But truly, what else can I do? There's no way in heck mother would let me fraternize with him, even if he did save me in a way she'll never know.

"Miss Astencourt," a voice shrieks from my doorway.

Martha, one of the servants, rushes inside and makes her way to my bed. Thankfully, Branson already put all evidence of my indiscretion into the bag where she can't see it.

"Easy, ma'am," he chides, drawing the stethoscope away from my chest. "Miss Astencourt is fine. She just had a bit of a fainting spell."

"But she's all right," she cries out, wringing her hands as she looks between him and me.

"Quite all right. Vitals are strong. Based on a quick scan, it shows her electrolytes are a bit low." He pulls out another small device and peers at it, as if he actually did a proper examination. "Less stress and hydration are just what she needs."

"Thank you, sir. I can assure you, she will get both."

With a heavy sigh, Branson eases off of the bed and gives me a wink before packing the rest of his stuff up. "Hopefully I won't have to make another visit like this again. Just rest tonight, drink plenty of fluids, and check in with your primary doctor if you still feel out of sorts tomorrow."

My heart threatens to splinter as he eases himself through the door frame. As I look around the room, it hits me how everything is somehow still the same, but fundamentally different. If only I hadn't allowed my classmates to pressure me. If only I was still the innocent, na?ve omega I was just a few hours ago.

Now, I'll never get that back. I'll always know at least a fragment of what I'm missing. And honestly, that's far more agonizing than I ever thought possible.