This time, the Alpha was already waiting for her. The same burly guards who had driven her the last time escorted her into Eros House and straight up the massive staircase without so much as hesitating at the door.

Ianthe wasn’t allowed the luxury of milling in the around the lower room with the others like she had before. She caught a brief glimpse of Casi, who cast her a small smile before they whisked her away. She wondered how long the blonde girl had been coming to Eros House. Was that a brief vision of her own future, just after she grew accustomed to the easy credits and her Alpha lost interest?

Unlike the first time, they had not required her to change into one of those ridiculous scraps of sheer fabric that served no purpose as a body covering. Instead, she again wore the simple blue dress that the Procurer had so cruelly mocked. But it was also the only item of clothing she owned, aside from her work uniform, that did not have holes in it.

She recognized this place for the trap that it was, and yet that hadn’t stopped her from showing back up inside it. It was hard to feel superior when she made the same mistakes as everyone else.

And knowing that it was a mistake hadn’t stopped her from coming here, so what did that make her?

They left her in the same room, darkened just as it had been before, but this time lit sconces lined one wall and created a soft glow. A small table sat below it, arranged with a light buffet of fruits, cheeses, and sliced meats. She wondered how much of that food, laid out more like artwork than anything meant for actual consumption, would go to waste. They would dispose of enough food to feed a family in the slums for weeks without even a second thought.

And that was why she hated the citizens of the upper levels, especially the Alphas who did whatever they pleased regardless of the consequences.

Ianthe turned slowly to take in the entire room although most of it remained shrouded in darkness. She then started in surprise to find Legion sitting in the corner of the room in a large chair, completely silent and staring at her.

Words froze in her throat because what was there for her to say?

Legion continued to stare as he raised a wine glass to his lips and took a careful sip.

She hesitated, completely unsure of what do with herself without explicit instructions. Somehow, she instinctively knew that she should not be the one to break the silence, that he wouldn’t like that. A draft of cold air blew across her bare legs, her skin dimpling with gooseflesh in response.

Every instinct in her body was primed for flight, sending a tremor coursing down each muscle. She wanted to race out the door without looking back.

Except she knew better than to run from a predator because then he would be compelled to chase her down.

With a herculean effort, she forced herself to focus only on her own breathing to calm the rapid pace of her heart. How bad could this possibly be?

“Take off your dress.”

The sound of his voice, dropping like a stone on the surface of a still pond, shocked her. A shiver overtook her small body as she tried not to succumb to panic. It wasn’t until a low growl escaped his sneering lips that she realized she had failed to comply with his command.

Stiff fingers gripped the hem of her dress. It took several tries before she finally got it over her head as the fabric kept slipping from her trembling fingers. She let it drop to the floor beside her as he watched, stone-faced.

He rose from the table, body elongating like a serpent to rise above her. She swallowed a gasp as he slowly came to stand before her, the center of his chest level with her forehead. His shoulders were broad enough that she could not make their span even with her arms spread wide. She had to tilt her head back uncomfortably far to meet his eyes, which seemed to glow in the candlelight as he glared down at her.

It was impossible for her not to think about how easy it would be for him to physically destroy her, wrap his large hand around her throat and snap it with ease. She hated the unfairness of the universe, that it would create such an imbalance of size and power.

But that was it meant to be Omega, weak and powerless.

His gaze broke from hers and she let out a gasp, unaware until that point that she had been holding her breath.

He circled her slowly as she stared straight ahead, practically frozen in place. She felt the whispers of air on her skin as he moved, but he did not touch her.

“Panties as well.”

She closed her eyes, desperate for a way to separate herself from this humiliating moment but her fingers still complied. The scrap of fabric pooled at her feet and she pushed it aside with one toe.

The low sound emanating from his chest changed in pitch, becoming softer. A muscle clenched deep in her belly. He was purring for her.

“Use your fingers to spread your cunt, wide so that I can see it.”

Ianthe made a choked sound in her throat, shocked at the demand. Blood rushed to her face, reddening every inch of exposed skin with her embarrassment. He had allowed her to be a barely willing participant at their last encounter and simply endure his attention. She wasn’t prepared to take a more active role.

The purr abruptly stopped. “Do not make me repeat myself.”

Her shaking hands moved between her legs to do what he had ordered. With clumsy fingers, she reached between her thighs and spread her folds, eyes squeezed shut in exquisite embarrassment. When one of her knuckles just barely brushed her already aching clitoris, Ianthe couldn’t hold back a moan.

He took the few steps the would bring him back to face her, gaze locked firmly on the exposed flesh between her thighs. He knelt in one fluid movement, nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply.

The man was smelling her. She wanted to grab the back of his head and force it against her mound. The effort to resist the urge tingled painfully along her skin. She prayed to the gods who lived above the skies that he would not discover her secret, that the alterants were enough to disguise the unique flavor of an Omega’s scent.

Need, a wholly unwanted sensation, quaked through her. Her knees trembled, and it was only sheer force of will that kept her standing as his face hovered mere millimeters from where her fingers still kept her opening exposed.

When he spoke, sharp breath struck her most sensitive flesh. Large hands rose to grip her hips which was all that kept her standing upright. “Do you ever touch yourself here, in the dark where no one else can see?”

“Yes, sir” she confessed, unable to offer him anything but the truth.

“And how many other men have touched you here since I last did?”

She wanted to lie, wanted to scream that a veritable train of men had run through her bedroom in the last week, anything to make this torture stop. But she couldn’t do it, she could not lie to him. “None, sir.”

“You truly expect me to believe that this hungry little pussy has gone unplowed for so long. That’s difficult to believe. Look at how it weeps for me.”

And he was right. A tiny bead of moisture already gathered at her opening as her body responded to his growled words.

“Have you thought about when we were last together while you touched yourself?”

Ianthe couldn’t understand why he was doing this. Alphas were supposed to take, like the savages they were, not seduce with poisoned words that turned her own body against her.

“Yes,” she choked out, unable to stop herself.

“Did you dream of me?”

Her throat closed on a plaintive sound. She couldn’t respond even if he could see the answer in the tense lines of her body.

He moved an infinitesimal distance closer until she could feel the heat of each breath he took. “Show me how you touch yourself. Show me what you want me to do to you.”

With a soft sob, she moved one finger over the tiny nub of her clitoris, rubbing in tiny circles that left her gasping. Two fingers from the opposite hand dipped inside her slick-drenched channel, pumping in and out. Need arched through her like the sharp slice of a blade, the sensation so harsh that it bordered on painful. Only a few strokes brought her so close, a moment more would send her over the edge.

“That’s enough.”

Her hands stilled, frustration leaving tears pricking the corners of her eyes.

Legion stood and took a step back. She did cry then in harsh sobbing breaths, the lack of release more than she could bear after all he had forced her to endure.

Moving to the table, he roughly swept plates and silverware off its surface, sending it all crashing to the floor. He seemed unconcerned with the wasted food or crockery that shattered at his feet.

The violence of it was so unexpected that Ianthe took an involuntary step backward, hands falling away from where they held her body open to press against the locked door at her back.

“Come here. Now.” His face remained expressionless but she couldn’t miss the thread of anger in his voice.

She walked towards him on unsteady legs, careful to avoid the shards of porcelain that littered the floor. When she was within arms’ reach, he swept her off her feet and into his arms. He clutched her against him for only a moment before pushing her face down onto the table.

Her breasts pressed painfully hard against the wooden surface, leaving her naked backside exposed to the cool air. He came to the side of her shivering body, took both her wrists with one hand and pulled up to the edge of the table above her head until her muscles strained in protest. He turned her wrists until her palms lay flat.

“Do not move your hands or I will tie them.”

She gasped something that was the closest she could manage to an affirmative.

His fingers traced the bruises on the backs of her thighs that had not been given enough time since their last encounter to heal completely. She shuddered at the gentle caress, knowing what was about to come.

He shifted to the other end of the table but her neck could not crane enough to follow his movements without removing her hands from the table. When her head turned to the other side, she caught his dim reflection in a mirror hanging on the far wall.

She watched as his hands moved to the waist of his slacks and he removed his belt.

A belt! She made a move to turn, her hands lifting slightly from the table.

“Be still,” he said sharply.

She froze in place, heart pounding in her chest as terror and desire warred for dominance within her. Her fingers dug into the wooden tabletop. “Please!”

“Please what?” He lowered himself enough to kneel beside her head, seeming unconcerned with the bits of broken plate and glass that crunched underneath him. When she turned her head to face him, their eyes were level. He held the belt in one hand as it swung gently in the air. “Are you afraid?”

A tear slid down her cheek. Wasn’t that what he was paying two thousand credits for — her fear? She nearly choked on her own words. “Yes, sir.”

“Fear reveals us, did you know that? It is only in facing our fears that we find out who we truly are.” He paused and leaned in closer to place a gentle kiss on her tear-soaked cheek. “And I very much want to know who you really are.”

He abruptly stood. In nearly the same moment, the belt came down. She heard the sharp whistle of it slicing through the air just before pain exploded across her backside. It hurt significantly more than any strike delivered by his hand.

She screamed, more from shock than actual pain. And the shock came not because he had struck her, but because it only made the flame of pleasure inside her burn brighter. Her belly clenched with each strike and she could feel the growing pool of moisture that streaked her thighs.

Strikes rained down with the steady rhythm of a metronome. His aim was unerring, never hitting the same spot twice, until her entire body felt like it was consumed in fire.

Tears turned to sobs as the hardwood of the table bumped against her cheek with each measured blow.

He used the belt on her without apparent mercy. She lost count after a handful of swings, her awareness receding into an ocean of sharp pleasure and sparkling pain.

His pace eventually slowed and then stopped. Minutes passed, the only sound in the room his harsh breathing and the gasping sobs that she tried to swallow back, leaving her blubbering.

Was this how Alpha’s got their rocks off without an Omega to abuse, paying Beta women enough to pretend that they enjoyed it? He was sick and, she realized with a heavy heart, so was she.

A large hand insinuated itself between her legs, his searching fingers sparking her desire even higher. She cried out, rocking back against him and desperate for his touch, even as her palms stayed glued to the table’s surface.

“Tell me what you want, girl.” His voice sounded harsh, strained as if even he was caught up in whatever storm gathered between them. “Tell me what you need.”

“Fuck me.” The words spilled from her lips before she could stop them and she immediately wanted to snatch them back.

He was already laughing at her, voice snide. “I don’t fuck Betas, little one. But perhaps there’s something else that I can offer you.”

When he pulled his hand away, she moaned at the loss, growing wanton in her desperation. Then his face was buried between her thighs and the world exploded around her.

He sucked the little bead of her clit into his mouth, drawing hard on it as if he could pull the very life from her body. Flattening his tongue against her flesh, he licked the length of her from the bottom of her slit to the puckered skin of her rear entrance.

Her body reacted as if it had been shot with electricity, bucking and grinding against his face. A high-pitched keening sound filled the room, and she distantly realized that it was coming from her, but she was too far gone for embarrassment.

His tongue moved lower, dipping inside of her before returning to the more sensitive flesh that had fully emerged from its hood as if begging for more attention. Fingers pushed inside of her, just as his mouth closed over her clitoris and sucked hard. Mouth and fingers worked in tandem, creating a primal rhythm that sent her over the edge of ecstasy.

She dissolved, orgasm leaving her barely on the verge of consciousness. Her moans transformed into inarticulate cries as she melted like candy into the heat of his mouth.

And then she screamed his name before passing out completely.

Ianthe woke a short time later, no conception of how long she had been in a pleasure-induced haze. They were both reclined on the sofa, her in his arms with her head tucked neatly under his chin.

Legion must have felt her stir because his chest rumbled against her cheek as he spoke.

“Welcome back.”

She was afraid to do or say anything that might break the spell that had been cast. It had been years since she experienced anything like this, completely surrounded and protected from the outside world. Even if the person holding her was a hated Alpha, she wasn’t ready to let the moment go.

Her cheek rested against the small patch of bare skin where the top of his shirt was unbuttoned. His scent was amazing, and she had to resist the urge to burrow closer.

“It’s a little late for the vapors, pet.”

Legion — she had to acknowledge his name now that he had ripped enough pleasure from her body to make her pass out — gripped her chin, tilting her face until she was forced to meet his gaze.

His eyes were golden and too bright for the scowl that seemed permanently etched into his features. They were pools of light that she could fall into and be completely swallowed up.

“Tell me about your dreams.”

A fiery blush crept up her cheeks, and he chuckled, the sound like a threat.

“Tell me, Ianthe.”

Her name on his lips was too much, it somehow made the scene even more intimate than it already was.

“You had my arms and legs b-bound.” She swallowed hard and forced out the hated word. “Sir.”

He rolled her off of his lap and shoved her back on the couch, his impressive form looming over her. Taking both of her wrists in one large hand, he raised them over her head until they pressed against the arm of the couch. One of his legs moved up to cover both of hers, immobilizing them. She was trapped between the vice-like grip at her wrists and the weight of his body.

“Like this?”

Ianthe took a stuttering breath. “Yes, sir.”

“Was that all?”

His face hovered over hers, their noses just barely touching. His body, so much larger and heavier than hers, crushed her down against the cushions. The position forced her to inhale in small gasps, her lungs unable to completely expand against the solid wall of his chest.

She felt his breath, hot and wet against her skin, as he turned to brush his lips against her cheek. The touch was so light that she hesitated to even call it a kiss.

The hard length of his erection pressed against her thigh. She shifted against it and he made an answering groan.

“Answer me, girl.”

She struggled to draw his question from the banks of her memory. The lines of their bodies molded together, each curve and line perfectly matched as if they were made to fit together. The feel of him pressed against her overwhelmed her senses and robbed her of coherent thought.

Confusion must have shown on her face because he laughed again then bent his head so his lips nuzzled against her ear.

“Describe the rest of your dream.”

She didn’t want to admit her fantasy to him, embarrassment enough to temper her haze. But what choice did she have?

What choice did she really have in any of this?

“I was blindfolded, sir.”

“Really?” His free hand skimmed down the side of her body, stopping at her bare hip. “Did you like it?”

She gasped as wandering fingers glided over the hot skin of her inner thigh. “Y-yes, sir.”

“And when you woke from your dream, soaking wet and unsatisfied, is that when you touched yourself?”

“Yes.” Her voice choked on another sob. “Y-yes, sir.”

His hand rose to draw a teasing circle around a peaked nipple, tracing the line where the dark pink of her areola met lighter skin.

“Who else have you let touch you?”

Why was he so focused on who she may have been with before, surely it couldn’t be jealousy that deepened his scowl? The more he spoke to her, the more confused she became. It was not a comfortable sensation.

“I already told you,” she snapped. “Nobody but me.”

He pinched the hardened peak hard between his fingers, twisting hard. “Mind your tone, little Beta.”

She gasped an apology, but he held for a beat longer, making it clear that insolence would be answered with punishment.

“I’m not sure that I believe you, little slut that you are.” A nail scraped the already abused flesh of her nipple and stars exploded across her vision. His hand moved down her body, fingers scratching at her skin before slipping easily between the slick folds at her center. “No one else has tasted this wet little cunt?”

“No!”

There had been opportunity and sometimes even a small amount of interest, but Ianthe had little time for the Beta males in her sector. The alterants had the side effect of greatly diminishing her desire for mating.

At least they had had until she met him.

His hand moved back up and traced the line of her lower lip with fingers damp with her slick.

“Arch your back,” he commanded.

Her body bowed as she complied with little hesitation. His arm slipped under her back, raising her chest higher until her breasts were presented to him like some sort of offering.

She stared down the line of her own body and met eyes that had turned the dark copper of late-day sunlight through the poisoned atmosphere in the lower sector. Her wrists pressed hard against the end of the sofa as she willed her arms to stop trembling. If her obedience pleased him, there was nothing in the fathomless gaze to indicate it.

“There is nothing more erotic than when a woman offers her breasts.” He blew gently over the sensitive skin. Somehow, her nipples hardened even more in reaction. “Beg me to do what I want to them.”

Ianthe did not beg. It was beneath her and against everything that she stood for. And yet the words still spilled from her lips. “Please do what you want with my breasts. Please, sir.”

He clearly needed no further inducement. His mouth descended just before she felt the broad, raspy surface of his tongue flattened against her breast.

His head moved from side to side, laving each nipple in turn with wicked strokes of his tongue. The hand holding her wrists pressed down hard, grinding the delicate bones together until she made a small sound of pain. The sound seemed to excite him even more and his teeth closed over one hardened peak.

The slight pain made her buck against the iron grip, even as she knew that her efforts would be to no avail. His grip tightened further, her struggles were like the wind trying to move a mountain.

His lips bared in a snarl where they still pressed against the dark flesh of her areola. He wouldn’t, came the desperate thought, and she felt a flash of fear as his teeth closed again over the sensitive nub of flesh.

Then he bit down hard, teeth digging sharply into her skin.

The jolt of pain ran like a live-wire from her aching nipple straight to her molten core. His head moved to the other side, repeating the attention on the opposite breast until she writhed underneath him. She looked down her body, expecting to see the flesh ravaged, but there was only the small indent of his teeth. He hadn’t even broken the skin.

Both his hands moved to her chest, squeezing her breasts and pressing them hard together so his mouth could lavish attention on them both at the same time. Now released, her own hands fell to his head of their own volition as her fingers tangled in his dark hair, thicker and silkier than it looked. Her hands pulled at the strands as the frenetic movements were the only way she knew to ask for what couldn’t be put into words.

She bucked against him, his erection hard against her thigh. The squirming contact wasn’t enough, and she desperately wished that no clothing stood between them so she could feel his bare skin on hers.

His hips matched the rhythm of hers as they rocked against each other with a frantic tempo, even as he never ceased the unforgiving attention on her breasts. She didn’t care that the wool of his pants was rough and scratched against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. He moved his leg so that there was direct friction against the aching bead of her clit.

Hands still pressing and kneading at her breasts, his mouth moved up her chest in trailing nips of his teeth until he reached her ear. “Come for me, Ianthe. Come now.”

His hips thrust faster against her, abrading the already sensitized flesh and it was more than she could take.

She came with a screaming cry that pierced the air, sound echoing off the walls and still audible even after she collapsed back against the sofa.

But it wasn’t enough. The earth-shattering orgasm had only been enough to whet her appetite. She wanted more from him. She wanted everything from him.

Her arms came up of their volition to wrap around his neck, pulling him as close as he would allow. And at last, he had driven her to begging. “Please fuck me.”

“I don’t fuck Betas, desperate little darling.” He smiled against the fragile skin of her neck before nipping her gently with his teeth. “I’m afraid you’ve had all that you’re going to get.”

She moved wantonly against him, her mind no longer fully in control of her body. The evidence of his continued arousal pressed hard against her thigh. He hadn’t come yet, what was he waiting for? “But what about you…”

He was quick to chide her. “I am not your concern.”

Ianthe felt a keen sense of loss as he pulled away and rose to his feet. Fearful she had upset him, she scrambled up as well. “I’m sorry…”

“I’m quite pleased with you.” He regarded her for a long moment and then his eyes tracked down her naked form, making her shiver. “You’ve exceeded every expectation that I could have of a Beta.”

She knew making him happy should be the furthest thing from her mind but she couldn’t stop the little frisson of pleasure at his words. “Thank you, sir.”

“Your breasts will be sore for several days. You won’t be able to touch them without thinking of me.”

The back of his hand brushed the faint indent of his teeth on her breast. Her body responded with a shock of pain and an answering throb of desire. “Oh.”

A smug smiled tugged at the corner of his lips. “Dream of me.”