Good Girl by Sam Hall

Chapter 34

“Orion Ratcliffe.”

My fingers felt like jelly around the phone, but I forced them to grip tighter as I heard that both familiar and unfamiliar voice down the line. The two alphas watched me closely, dressed now and ready to move.

“It’s Cyn.”

“Fuck…” Just one word, but I pored over it like an archaeologist would have the Rosetta Stone, sure all of the world’s knowledge was contained within it. Well, regarding him. But who was he, Orion? I’d never really taken that much time to find out, and I intended to now. “He said you’d call, but I didn’t believe it. How are you, omega? We—”

“Cyn,” I insisted. “People who call me omega have to earn that privilege.”

“Of course, Cyn. What can I do for you?”

There was something there, just a tiny little twist of need amongst all that professional cool, that got my hopes up, despite my head’s stern admonishments.

“What else did Marcus tell you?” I asked.

“To have a standing booking at Chrysanthème, my favourite French-Vietnamese fusion restaurant, for the next week because I’d need it. He wasn’t totally sure which day you’d call, but it would be soon.”

“So I’m supposed to have dinner with you?”

“With us.”

Orion didn’t explain, just left the words hanging there, like he knew I’d be forced to consider what that meant.

“You and Marcus.”

“We won’t see Marcus until the ball. At least, that’s what he told me.” I heard it then, in his ragged sigh, what this was costing Orion. “You’re safe with our mates. I’m to moulder here in the Ratcliffe manse until summoned, and he… He’s like a whisper in the wind, like he always is. I should’ve warned you, before you got too deep, what he was like. I’m sorry for that.”

“And why didn’t you?” I asked.

“Because I love him and them, and the more I got to know you, the more I felt… He said you’d be perfect for me, but I didn’t want to see it. I do now. Any other omega would have fucked off now, found herself a much more suitable mate to replace the marks on her neck with his, but not you, Cyn.”

“So that’s how it works, does it? He tells you what to do, I tell you to love me, and you just do it?” The incredulity transformed my voice into something strident.

“In my circles, there are too many alphas who run around pushing themselves forward as leaders, demanding and coercing those around them into followers, but something one of my teachers taught me always stuck with me. Service is the noblest form of leadership, where a strong man or woman identifies the needs of those they want to lead and provides for them.”

“And what will you provide for me tonight if I come to dinner?” I asked, my eyes narrowing.

“Some exquisite food, some polite conversation, an opportunity to show our beautiful mates off to the public. You might see them mostly in jeans and old footy uniforms, but both Bren and Rhys are really quite stunning in formal wear. They take my breath away.”

“And?”

“And illumination. He said you wouldn’t be satisfied with the way things were, that you couldn’t just lie there and be a good little omega. The idea seemed completely ridiculous and utterly fascinating at the time, but now I see it. You want the truth, don’t you? All of it. Even the stuff you’re not aware of.”

“I want the details of your plan, Orion. You knew what your father had planned. How do I know you weren’t in on it?”

A rude snort at that, and then his tone twisted, becoming harsh and angry.

“You must feel like you’re all adrift, driven mad by us and our bullshit. That’s something I can appreciate, but my father? If I could wrap my hands around his neck, wring the fucking life out of the man who made me, and watch the moment the light went out in his eyes…well, I would, without a second thought. Marcus knows this, and so he manipulates us all to ensure that doesn’t happen. I’ll bring evidence of that tonight so you aren’t forced to just take my word for it.”

I blinked, my mates watching me carefully, trying to work out what the conversation was about, and that was the thing. Bait was being dangled before us, every single one of Orion’s words designed to reel us in, but could we afford to ignore its tempting wiggle?

“When?”

“Seven-thirty pm sharp. And, Cyn?” I didn’t answer him, not willing to give anything else away. “If you let Brendan mark you, wear a collar. The part of me that is his mate, who loves him so fucking desperately that it hurts, wants that for him. But the other? The alpha that is clawing at my control, wanting to get in a car, break all the speed limits to get to you sooner, to claim you as I know I always should have? I can’t predict what he’ll do.”

“No biting. Got it. See you at seven-thirty.”

I tossed the phone down onto the bed, then turned to my men and filled them in.

“We’re playing rightinto his hands,” Brendan said, pacing back and forth as Rhys stuffed a bag full of clothes.

“Yeah, but it’ll be in public, in a fucking fancy part of town where he’d be too afraid of creating a scene to do much,” Rhys replied. “They know they have us over a barrel. Cyn’s right—we have to know.”

“And I’ve got to let my mum know what’s going on,” I said, looking at my phone.

“Tell her you won’t be home for a bit. We’re going into a hotel,” Rhys said. “You should grab some clothes, Bren, and anything we have of Cyn’s.”

“A hotel?” I asked.

“Weapons too. I’m not walking into that restaurant or any other situations less than fully armed,” Rhys continued, Bren nodding in response. “I always loved this place.” He glanced around the room. “Now I’m not coming back to it unless we all walk in that door together, a pack again. I dunno what Marcus is up to, so I’m not lying in a bed in a place he controls until I do. Stay with us, Cyn, in an adjoining suite or…” Both of them paused, staring at me, seeing, like I did, what exactly the alternative could be. Rhys shook his head. “Whatever that looks like to you. I need eyes on you. We also need some on Cyn’s house and her mum.”

“Already called in some favours.” I blinked at Brendan’s reply, but he just shrugged. “I wasn’t letting her just roam free while Orion’s fucking sperm donor has good reason to kill Miranda and take Cyn.”

“OK.” The word was out of my mouth without thinking, but on further consideration, it was the right one. “Just… No matter what happens, respect my boundaries. You guys have been apart, that might tip you over into rampancy again.” Their eyes found each other, heating noticeably. “If it does, you can work things out between you and I’ll stay in an adjoining room.”

“Whatever you need, love,” Rhys said, approaching me slowly enough that I could pull away if needed, smiling when I didn’t. He pulled me into the gentlest of hugs, and it felt like we slowly unfolded into each other. “Whatever it takes to keep you with us.”

Brendan sauntered over, looking at the two of us with a smug smile.

“I’ll just go grab my shit.”

“Nice…”Brendan said, throwing open the bedroom doors of the main suite. We’d managed to get a huge one with several rooms, which made the guys happier. One entrance, easy for them to secure, and enough space for people to retreat to if needed. But this? The bed was freaking massive, large enough to accommodate the three of us and friends.

Shit, I shouldn’t let myself have thoughts like that.

Rhys shot me a sidelong look, then smiled before strolling farther in. The guys might be respecting my boundaries, but they sure weren’t making the process easy. Brendan had sat down on the edge of the bed, bouncing to test the mattress, which drew Rhys closer. He looked freaking massive, those shoulders outlined by the window above the bed as he stood with his legs either side of Bren’s, tilting his mate’s head up to claim his mouth. And Rhys did, slowly and surely kissing him until the other man was groaning, wrapping his arms around Rhys’ waist until he winced.

“You need sleep, not sex,” Bren ordered, extricating himself. “You take a nap while Cyn and I go down to the gym and practise some knife fighting moves.”

“No. Shit, I mean yeah, I want that. To sleep, for Cyn to become a knife wielding dervish that can slice into any fucks that mess with her, but…” It was odd seeing such a big man fidget, Rhys finally blowing out a breath. “I need a rest. I’m fucking dead, but… Would you sleep with me?”

He didn’t specify who, which was significant. If I didn’t want to, the offer was for Bren, and vice versa.

“I haven’t slept a whole night through since you left and it’d help. A lot. Please.”

“You had me at nap,” I replied. “I was up at some ridiculous hour due to excitement that Bren was coming over.”

“Were you, baby?” Bren ambled over, taking me in his arms and depositing a kiss on my nose. “Were you excited to see me?”

“Always, dammit. My activewear has been a total mess.”

“Mm…I know. I could smell you when I was helping you with your archery form. Drove me fucking nuts. So you gonna come and sleep with our boy? I’ll show you all my stabby tricks between then and tonight.”

“And shopping. We’re gonna need something fancier than jeans and a T-shirt for Chrysanthème.”

“Fuuuck….”

I stoodin the blinding white bathroom of the hotel room, naked, a T-shirt in my hands. Bren had leant me one of his to sleep in, and I brought it up to my nose. I smelled that woody scent, my hand shaking, feeling my slick start to flow. My body was on board, so on board with the idea of jumping into bed with them, even if it hadn’t got the message about sleep. I pulled the soft cotton over my head, the voluminous folds only barely grazing my skin, enhancing the feeling of nakedness rather than taking it away. I looked down at my underwear, discarded and stepped away from it, then opened the door.

They’d stripped down to just their boxers or a pair of shorts, which didn’t help anything, my feet lighter, quicker as I walked closer. Rhys had encouraged me to take, and that was all I felt right now—a burning need to do just that.

Boundaries, I reminded myself. Boundaries.

But when they saw me, they looked me over with a possessive eye, Bren especially.

“I like this,” he said, meeting me halfway, tracing the neckline of the shirt. “Maybe I’ll have you wear my clothes more often.”

“And scent mark the fuck out of Cyn, proclaiming her as yours. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” Rhys said in a fake growl. He held his hand out to me, helping me onto the bed, but the both of them stilled when I did.

“What?”

“You’re needing,” Rhys said gently, deliberately soft, only a touch of a rasp in his voice. He brushed his hand down the side of my arm and then pulled it back. “Bren can ease you.”

“It’s OK, it’s just being around you both again. I’m tired, you’re tired and—Ulp!”

I was pulled down between them, their bodies rolled towards mine.

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal,” Rhys said, oh so persuasively. “Can be just a helping hand.”

“A helping hand for my vagina. Why didn’t I get one of those before?” Ferocious growls at that. “Settle down there, boys, I was just joking.”

“I’ll get you off quick, Cyn,” Bren said, nuzzling into my neck, the ticklish sensation making me squirm in more ways than one. “It’ll help you sleep.” He made it sound like a handshake or something, but when I opened my eyes, Rhys was watching every moment with hungry eyes.

“I can go, if that’s what the issue is,” he said quickly.

“No, it’s more… So what, you’re gonna play with my clit until I come? What’s to stop more naked fun from happening?”

“You don’t want that,” Rhys said in a definite tone. “When you do, we’ll be at your door, ready to beat it down to get to you, but that’s not what this is.” He smiled slowly. “You’re wet for us. I never thought that’d happen again. But we all need some rest, so let Bren help you and I’ll watch.”

“You want to watch me come?” I wriggled on the bed in earnest now, but why, I wasn’t sure.

“More than anything.”

Rhys leaned forward, placing a kiss on my forehead, closing my eyes with his hand, then hooked my leg up and over his thigh. The hand returned, shielding my eyes, taking the visual stimulus away, so everything else felt really intense. The bare sensation under the shirt was enhanced as the cool air met my slick folds, the tension in my thigh feeling like it pushed my clit up and out, ready to be touched.

“Yes or no, Cyn,” Bren said.

Silence ticked by as the need rose up inside me, pushing until I finally said, “Yes.”

Just two fingers, that was how it started, tracking up my thigh, tracing the skin there until the one not on Rhys widened. I opened myself to him in a way that felt like a culmination of the last few days, and just like then, Bren proved worthy of that trust. Not stringing things out or turning this into a big thing, instead, it was gentle and sweet.

Until it wasn’t.

He didn’t finesse things, sliding his fingers through my wetness, kissing away my gasp before plunging them in. Once upon a time, that would have been a disaster, but he seemed to know. It’d been too long since anyone or anything had touched me, and I needed it—the stretch, the burn, that abrasive thrust that turned my spine to jelly and set my nerves on fire. His thumb grazed my clit now with every push as he brutally wound me tighter. There was something awful and wonderful about such a truncated, perfunctory thing. I craved it, him, the fucking surety of my orgasm as it built, the speed with which it came, his mouth on my neck, breathing in my scent.

“Fuck!” My hand slammed down on top of Bren’s, holding him there, right where I needed, until it broke over me, sweet, sweet, delicate pleasure, almost selfish in its simplicity. I clamped tight around his fingers, clasping him over and over until I was done.

I cracked open my eyes to see Bren smiling down at me, then licking his fingers clean, Rhys leaning over to kiss the taste off his lips before they kissed me, gently, on the side of my face. We snuggled down in the fancy arse hotel bed, cocooned tight against the world.

I dreamt of it,that night, again.

“Just through here, omega.”

The voice was rich, dark, and throbbing with command, but I could never remember how it sounded when I was awake, not even when Melanie, my new therapist, had tried her hypnosis tricks. Here, I didn’t question the directive in the voice, the pressure of his hand on my back, or our destination, even when the door closed with a click.

“Good girl.” I felt that compliment all the way down to my soul. Yes, that, that was what I wanted to be. “Such a good little omega. You want to please me, don’t you?” The nod that came was an automatic response, not a conscious one, but he didn’t want my rational mind working right now. It was locked up in the back of my head, screaming as this went down. “Suck.”

A thumb was pressed between my lips, the taste of salt, Scotch, and cigars strong, so strong, I gagged, but he tsked at that.

“Suck, omega.”

I didn’t want to, that rose, what he’d tried hard to batten down. I didn’t want this room, the scandal that would come of an omega going into the room with an alpha alone, the acrid taste of him in my mouth. My teeth ached with the need to bite down.

“Suck!”

Like a slap to the face, his will crushed mine, and I suckled on his thumb like a child, his constant stream of filth telling me how velvety my mouth felt, directing me on how to keep my teeth off him, until finally, he yanked his hand away. His belt buckle flashed in some small band of moonlight as his hand went to loosen it.

“What the hell is going on?”

George, he cracked the door, then thrust it open, the light pouring in to reveal my disgrace.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Cyn. What the hell did he do?”

“Nothing she doesn’t want. Run along, Rivers, this is of no concern to you.”

“The hell it isn’t. I’m her chaperone, and she’s only just turned eighteen! Cyn, sweets, look at me. Is this what you want? You need to tell me.”

But I didn’t, did I? Instead, I burst into tears like a little weak omega as my own will was reinstated, while his was withdrawn.

“Five thousand for the girl,” the alpha said in a flat tone.

“What? No, what the hell are you—”

“Twenty then. Let’s not fuck around, shall we? Hand her over, and the money will be in your account before you get to the bottom of the stairs.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t just buy Miranda Rhodes’ daughter. Whatever vile crap you get up to with your cronies and the academy omegas won’t play here. She’ll have you crucified in court.”

I didn’t hear the rest of the conversation, George having shoved me behind him, making himself a barrier between the alpha and me, and that was when I saw him. Not the alpha, he was there, larger than life, bespoke tailored dark suit, crisp white shirt, and a grey tie with a design embossed onto the fabric. No, it was the other one.

What? What other one?

Just an outline in the darkness beyond, a dark shape moving in a room full of other dark shapes, the flash of his watch face the thing that gave him away. It was him I tracked, or his silhouette at least, as the two other men argued.

“You’ll keep your fucking mouth shut, Rivers,” the alpha snapped crisply, “or you’ll find my house closed to any and all the little omegas you squire about town. You’ll find it very difficult to pimp yourself out if the elite refuse to receive you.”

I felt the tension in George’s shoulders, the quiver of them as he held me back, all that was standing between the alpha and me. But the dark figure, he moved closer and closer, moving through the darkness, towards the light, towards the alpha—

“Cyn!”

My eyes snapped open to hear the tail end of my scream die away.

“It’s all right,” one or more of them said, wrapping me up tight. “You’re safe now. You’re safe.”

But I could taste cigar in my mouth as I fought my way free of them, snatching my phone from the bedside table and punching the call to George through.

“Cyn! Sweets, how are you? I’ve been meaning to touch base about the ball but—”

“George, who was the alpha that attacked me all those years ago? The one you—”

“I know who you mean. Bloody hell, I couldn’t exactly forget, could I? You’ve never asked me about that night, not once. Not during your recovery, not when you were forced to attend the balls. Never.”

“And I need you to tell me now,” I replied, but secretly, I knew.

“Darling, this doesn’t change anything. That was a long time ago and—”

“Just tell me.”

I heard his sigh, catching the nervous tremor of it, like he feared even saying his name.

“Benson, sweets. It was Benson Ratcliffe.”