Chapter 7

Ari

I'd known I was kinky, but fuck! I'd had no idea I was that kinky until I saw the way I looked in Samson's sex chair wall thing through the mirror.

Holy fuck, but that chair thing was amazing! I had zero control over my body in that thing, which would have been good enough. But then that breeding orgasm?

Fuck.

And then, as soon as Samson's knot had gone down and he'd moved out of me and stepped aside, I had a front-row seat to watching all the slick and cum gush out of me and puddle on the floor under me. Just watching that had made me come and sent me into another heat wave right away.

So Samson fucked me again in the chair, rearranging it slightly to ease up on some of my joints, and I'd had a second, soul-deep, shattering, breeding orgasm that left me screaming, then passing out.

It was hands down the best day of my life and then some.

I was such a sick fucker that I couldn't begin to wrap my brain around it.

The walls of the fantasy were beginning to break down by the evening, though, twenty-four hours since I'd gone into heat. As soon as Samson told me I didn't have to keep reassuring him that my terror was all an act, something snapped inside me. Or maybe it clicked into place, I wasn't sure. I didn't need the structure of the fantasy anymore to get off.

"That's is, omega. That's it," Samson grunted as he slammed into me from behind while I lay sprawled on an elaborate kink bed.

My wrists were cuffed and attached to hooks at the top of the bed, spreading my arms wide, and more cuffs around my thighs and ankles had my legs trapped bent and secured wide open as well. I loved the restraint, but I also loved the soft bed against my battered body.

"There's no escaping your fate," Samson gasped as he thrust into my wet, sore, gaping hole, fast and hard. His body completely encompassed mine from above as he balanced with his hands planted just under my armpits. His face was only inches from mine, and I could feel each of his panting breaths against my cheek. "You're mine to breed, whether you like it or not."

I groaned with pleasure and with the raw, real emotions his words ignited in me. And then I cried out with much more as his cock pushed straight through, into my willing womb for another breeding orgasm.

I didn't know if heats were supposed to go that way, but every orgasm I'd had since the chair had been an all-absorbing, pleasure-drenched breeding orgasm. They were absolutely fucking amazing. I didn't think I'd ever get used to the feeling of my bones turning to jelly and my body being consumed with pleasure and with Samson. It really felt like our bodies fused together, occupying the same space at the same time as he growled and moaned and filled me with his cum.

A little voice in the back of my head whispered that it definitely wasn't supposed to be like this, that it would never be like this with Clyve.

"Hey, you okay?"

I blinked at Samson's softly spoken question and turned my head to look at him over my shoulder. I wasn't sure when my orgasm had ended. We were knotted, and my wrists and legs had been unclasped from the bed, though I still wore the cuffs, and my legs were still bent.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I panted, my body feeling sore and used in the best possible way. "I'm just stunned is all."

Samson huffed a laugh. "Breeding orgasms will do that to you," he said.

He moved carefully, handling me like I was something precious and fragile, as he repositioned us on our sides. He was so much bigger than me that he could work to detach the cuffs around my thighs from the ones on my ankles while we were still knotted. I winced a little as he pushed my legs straight, then rubbed life back into my knees and legs.

"I bet you have breeding orgasms with omegas all the time," I said, compelled to make conversation, for some reason, "but I've never had them before today."

Samson's rubbing stopped for a moment. "Actually, I've only ever experienced a few in my life," he said, resuming his care of my body.

"Really?" I twisted as much as I could to look at him over my shoulder, which caused a wave of pleasure to shoot through me, starting from where our bodies were joined by his massive knot.

"Really," he said. "Breeding orgasms are actually really rare."

"Huh. You could have fooled me. The ones we've been having feel so natural, so right."

Samson hummed in response, but didn't say anything more. I wasn't sure what more there was to say. I was a little bit afraid to speculate all the reasons why the two of us were having breeding orgasms together like they were a dime a dozen. I didn't really want to think about why every cell in my body sang with happiness at the feel of his broad torso against my back, or his alpha scent all around me, or the stretch of my skin across my belly where my womb was so full of his seed that it was distended.

I didn't want to remember that this was all a contracted fantasy and that it would be over as soon as my heat ended.

"That chair thing of yours is amazing," I said instead, trying to be as shallow and horny as possible. That's what I was, after all. Just a shallow, horny, rich kid omega getting a few last kicks before the reality of his life started.

Even if that thought was depressing as hell.

"I could tell you liked it," Samson said, a delicious note of smug pride in his voice. "That was the first time I used it, actually."

"Really?" I glanced at him over my shoulder again.

"Yeah," he said, grinning down at me. He started absently stroking my side and belly as he went on. "I saw it demoed at a kink conference last year. It can do a lot more even than we did with it. Once an omega is strapped in, their body is basically yours to play with."

I hummed with arousal. "And I loved that about it. I felt so helpless and submissive."

"And you liked that?" It wasn't exactly a question. Samson knew I liked it. I felt like he was trying to understand.

"I adored it," I sighed.

I held my breath for a second, debating how open I wanted to be. But it was Samson. My soul vibrated at the same frequency as his. His knot was throbbing in my ass, and the head of his cock was still firmly inside my womb.

"I feel helpless and hopeless most of the time in my life," I admitted quietly, pressing my cheek into the pillow. "It's nice to feel helpless on my own terms for a change."

Samson's body tensed around me. It caused his cock and knot to thrust a little inside me, which almost caused an orgasm.

"Why do you feel helpless?" he asked, his voice so deep and soft and caring. Not at all like the vicious, predatory alpha he'd been pretending to be.

I liked that, too. More than I should have.

It made it easy to be completely honest with him.

"My parents are wealthy," I said. "Like, super wealthy. So wealthy they're too wealthy to be the subjects of a reality show."

"Ah," Samson said, as if he understood.

"I've lived a privileged life," I went on, "but that definitely comes with consequences. I've only ever been an ornament, an accessory to someone else's life. My father arranged a marriage for me to the alpha son of another ridiculously powerful family. I wasn't given a choice."

"I knew that sort of thing still happened in some societies, but I always figured they were religious societies and things like that," Samson said.

I shook my head against the pillow. "The super rich still treat their omega offspring like assets, too." I paused. "My wedding is in two weeks."

Samson tensed again, and I could have sworn I heard a deep, rumbling voice murmur, "Mine!"

That made me smile wistfully and squeeze my ass, like I was acknowledging I'd heard. Right now, in that moment, I wanted to be his. I wanted to be Samson's submissive omega fuck hole.

No, I wanted to be Samson's happy, contented, devoted omega mate.

"I take it you're not in love with your fiancé?" Samson asked.

I sighed. "Not even a little. I don't really even like him," I admitted, saying it out loud for the first time. "He's petty and shallow. He's an arrogant prick who lives and dies for his father's approval, but he doesn't have a third of the intelligence his father has. And don't even get me started on his father," I went on, growing more agitated as I did. "Honestly, I have the feeling I'm being brought into the family as a second omega for him more than as a spouse for Clyve. I fully expect Mr. Ingraham to claim some of my heats in the next few years."

I'd hoped it wouldn't sound so horrifying if I spoke it aloud, but those hopes were dashed. I shivered at the nightmare I knew was coming.

Samson had stopped stroking me and held me tight against his torso, even though his knot was starting to go down. "Can't you get out of it?" he asked. "Since you clearly don't want this marriage."

I shrugged one shoulder. "And go where? Do what?" I asked. "I don't have any skills or qualifications. I have a trust fund and access to some of that money since turning twenty, but I don't have my own bank account. All of which is by design, by the way."

Samson made an angry sound. His hand slipped down to the bulge where my womb was.

That possessive gesture felt so good that I closed my eyes and blew out a breath, reveling in the true fantasy, that I could belong to him and avoid the fate waiting for me once I left the woods.

"I wish there was something I could do," Samson said, his voice tight with frustration.

I snapped my eyes open again. "Thanks, but there's nothing you can do. My family has way too much power and influence for me to just walk away, or for someone to help me walk away. They'd eat you alive for trying to help."

To my surprise, Samson huffed a laugh. "I'd like to see them try."

I twisted to look at him over my shoulder again. Actually, his knot had gone down enough that I could do more than that. I slipped away from him enough to flip to my other side and face him fully.

"You can't beat people like this," I told him sadly. "I've seen people try. I had a friend in school, a female omega, Claire. She thought she could get away by marrying a beta from a good family and moving across the country." I paused and swallowed hard. "Her husband was in a tragic car accident on his way home from work one night. A black car showed up at the funeral to take her away. Next thing I knew, a year later, she was married to some oil tycoon down in Aveline with a baby on the way."

Samson's face went hard with fury. "That's unconscionable."

"Yeah," I said, "but it's the way things go in my world."

"It's not the way things are in my world," Samson protested. "I fought to stop that sort of thing when I was a cop."

My brow flew up. In all the kinky haze of heat, I'd forgotten that Samson had been a cop.

"You fought against rich, entitled people who thought they could get away with murder? Literally?" I asked.

Samson's face pinched. "Well, I worked in Missing Persons these last few years. More than a few of those cases were rich kids who ended up involved with some bad shit. Drug deals and human trafficking and things like that."

I was even more impressed. "You stopped human trafficking rings?"

"Not exactly," Samson admitted with a sigh. "I was part of a team. My job was to recover people, not to thwart rings."

"That's still amazing," I said, genuinely impressed. So much so that my body started to tingle with the first hint of another heat wave starting. This one went deeper than physical need, too. "I'm sure you were seriously good at your job. Why did you quit?"

I realized a moment after the words left my mouth that it might not have been an appropriate question.

Samson's expression turned dark and far away. "I was good," he said. "Until I wasn't. Obviously I can't discuss specific cases, but I failed to rescue an omega in time, and?—"

He blew out a breath, then rubbed a hand over his face.

I could feel the despair and sense of failure radiating from him. They were complex emotions, and along with them was a stalwart sense that he'd done his best. But I could really feel how difficult whatever happened had been for him.

"That's the reason I left the force," he went on after a small silence. "I let that case get to me. Everyone back home in Medford thought I was a hero, but I didn't feel like one."

"I'm sorry," I said, resting a hand on his chest.

His heartrate shot up at my touch. Heat spread from my fingertips and palm down my arm, filling me with a need to submit to him again.

Samson shrugged, resting his hand over mine. "It feels like a long time ago," he said. "And maybe I'll apply to join the force here in Barrington at some point. But I needed to get away from everything, to sort some of the shit in my head out."

"And to fulfill the filthy fantasies of spoiled, rich omegas?" I suggested, feeling oddly playful.

Samson smiled, and my whole being lit up. "Yes," he growled, shifting back into character.

He moved swiftly and deftly, rolling me to my back and pinning my legs open. We'd fucked every which way in the last twenty-four hours, but not face to face, lying down in a bed, like two lovers instead of hunter and prey.

I stroked my hands up his muscular sides, gazing into his eyes as my heat wave took over.

"This hole is mine," he murmured, slipping a hand between us to thrust three fingers into my loose, gushing, ready hole. "You are mine, and you're going to take me whatever way I want you."

I sucked in a breath as he added a fourth finger. He had to know what being fisted meant to an omega. He was an experienced alpha who knew a lot about the world.

I wanted to say something, either to pretend I didn't want him or to beg him to force me to submit, but I couldn't manage either. I could only whimper and squirm, bearing down on his hand as he worked me open more and more.

But even though I couldn't speak, it was like he heard me anyhow and knew what I wanted.

"Mine," he growled, forcing the ring of my hole wider as he worked his hand. "Take it. Succumb. Give up and show me who you belong to."

I wanted it so badly that the moment his knuckles slipped past my ring and his hand disappeared into me to his wrist, I burst into tears. He formed a fist inside me and pumped against my prostate.

It was humiliating and crude. I loved it so much I started to come like a fire hydrant. Samson moaned as he watched my cock shoot pearly jets across my distended belly. It was the most extreme form of forced submission an omega could be subjected to, but Samson hadn't forced me at all.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," Samson purred, moving his fist like he wanted to keep my orgasm going.

I was completely limp, his to do with as he pleased. He shocked the living daylights out of me when he dipped down, keeping his fist inside me, and sucked my spurting cock into his mouth.

I cried out with the pleasure of it all as he sucked and pumped, driving me mad with pleasure.

"Breed me! Breed me!" I screamed, my womb demanding it.

Samson swallowed and groaned, then pulled back, working his fist out of me, then positioned himself between my legs.

It was like I was already primed and ready. The friction was still sweet as he thrust into me, but there was no resistance as he pushed straight up into my womb.

We both cried out as my womb sucked him in and we came in unison. Each breeding orgasm he gave me seemed to be better than the last. This one felt even more special, considering the mental and emotional submission I'd just given him.

It was the headspace I was in more than what my body felt. I was his, completely and utterly his. He could master me, command me, abuse me if he wanted to, and I would lap it all up like nectar.

And more than anything, I wanted his seed to catch and his baby to form in me. I longed for it, craved it, prayed for it as my belly stretched more and more as it filled with his cum. All I wanted, now and forever, was to belong to Samson, and damn the consequences.