I have no idea how to answer that, too lost to the sensations of my impending orgasm and his deliciously deep voice.

“That’s it,” he groans. “You’re close, aren’t you? I want you to make yourself come. Now, omega.”

“Fuck.”

I shudder and shake as my orgasm hits me, teasing myself relentlessly through it as wave after wave washes over me. I can hear Hunter talking through it, muttered praises of Good girl and Pretty little thing touching my senses from what seems like far, far away. My entire body feels like one frayed nerve, my system seeming to be in overdrive.

Somewhere, deep in the recesses of my mind, a memory triggers.

Being around one might wreak havoc on your system.

Dr. Carter’s warnings come back to me, and suddenly, even in the haze of my dwindling orgasm and the growing fatigue that creeps into my limbs because of it—the possibility of what she said makes itself known.

“Alpha?”

It’s the only word I manage as fatigue seeps through me, and even the sharp intake of Hunter’s breath and the rumble in his chest sound far away. Right now, I feel boneless and spent, even happy. Like all my problems floated away with my orgasm, and in a similar fashion, despite the audacity of what I’ve just done—I drift off.

It’s the best sleep I’ve ever had in my life.

Alpha .

Alpha.

Alpha.

I need to let her go, and I know that. It’s just that her fucking scent is swirling around me, keeping a chokehold on my senses. My cock throbs against her back even as I draw in ragged breaths at her throat, and every instinct I have is screaming at me to touch her, to take her—both things I can’t do.

Untangling myself from her is actual torture; my body protests with every nerve ending, every cell angry at me as I carefully lay her across my bed and slowly back away. I stare at the picture in front of me—her soft brown hair fanning across my sheets as her chest rises and falls slowly, her hand still delicately tucked inside her sweatpants—and it takes everything in me to walk away.

I stomp to the attached bath with difficulty, shutting the door behind me to try to gain a reprieve from her scent, knowing it would be better to leave the room altogether but seemingly unable to put that much distance between us with the way she still smells so…vulnerable.

I can smell her in my bathroom even with the door shut, her scent clinging to my clothes and my skin, and I hiss when I palm my aching cock, feeling the base throb as my knot threatens to swell even without the promised warmth of her body fitting snugly around it. I quickly shed my clothes, which are saturated with her, kick them aside and turn on the hot water as if I might somehow be able to wash her away and save myself from the madness that’s creeping in from having a sweet-smelling omega in heat only a few feet from me.

The hot water barely helps; even under the spray, my cock continues to pulse with want, my muscles taut and my senses on high alert. I curse under my breath as I stare down at my angry-looking erection, knowing deep down that it won’t go away without some sort of relief. Not with Tess’s scent still lingering in the air. I close my eyes and count to five, steeling myself for what will surely be an unsatisfying experience. Nothing could ever satisfy me with the heat-drenched scent of a lovely omega in the other room.

Still, I reach down and begin to angrily pump myself, trying not to imagine Tess, because I know it’s wrong, but unable to help it. The sounds she made are still ringing in my ears—soft cries and sharp gasps—and the weight of her body might as well be imprinted against mine for the way I can still feel her touching me. I stroke my fist up and down my shaft as copious amounts of pre-cum drip from the slit at the head, hissing under my breath as pleasure and pain war with each other.

I hate that she’s affecting me this way, hate that I’m helpless against what her scent does to my body. It feels too much like before, when I let myself get wrapped up in someone just like her only to have my heart ripped out and stomped on.

My mouth falls open as I start to fuck my fist, the action rough and raw and nothing like what it might feel like had this happened under different circumstances. If Tess weren’t a stranger who had only asked for my help out of desperation. Maybe in that alternate reality I might have her on her stomach right now, maybe I’d be teasing the head of my cock against her slick entrance, pushing inside her ever so gently even as she keens for more. Maybe I’d be feeling the warm, wet stretch of her enveloping my cock, sucking me deeper inside even as she begs for my knot. Maybe I’d—

“Fuck.”

Cum jets from my cock and coats my palm, but still I don’t stop. I stroke myself with my warm release, my breath sawing out of me roughly as my knot starts to swell, even without being snugly fitted inside an omega in heat. It’s brutal and a bit painful, and all I can do is reach lower, wrapping my hand around the useless swell and massaging it with my fist to try to bring some relief.

Alpha, I recall. She called me alpha.

Like I was hers.

Like she was mine.

I shiver with every touch, my eyes shut tight as flashes of Tess’s hand working inside her sweats flit through my thoughts. I think about how pretty she might be between her legs. I think about how her little fingers might look working her swollen clit while I tell her what to do.

Because my omega was so good for me.

I grip my throbbing knot tightly, clenching my teeth as I try to get ahold of myself. She’s not mine. I know that. It’s just the hormones talking. I know that.

Doesn’t make any of it better.

Even minutes later, gripping my knot and willing it to soften as I brace myself under the hot spray of the shower, I’m still thinking about her. About how she sounded, how she felt, how she looked. I can’t stop thinking about it.

When I finally get out of the shower to change, my knot is still slightly swollen but more manageable, even if it hurts like a bitch, almost like it’s angry with me for not putting it where it belongs.

I don’t even know her, I argue weakly.

The omega in question remains sprawled across my bed, sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the turmoil she’s caused. I watch her from my bathroom doorway, telling myself to leave her there, to sleep somewhere else, to put distance between us—but I can’t seem to move away.

I know, I can’t sleep with her. That would make for a whole new onslaught in what will surely already be an awkward conversation.

Leave.

Just leave.

I stand in place for seconds more, simply staring at her.

Then, with a curse, I plod over to the chair in the corner and plop myself down in it. I know without a doubt that I’m going to sleep like shit tonight, but it seems my alpha is refusing to let Tess out of our sight. I watch her until my eyes grow heavy, worried for what the morning will bring.

Worried that if she asks for my help again, I won’t be able to refuse her next time.

When I jolt awake the next morning, the sun streaming in through the blinds, the first thing I notice is that my bed is empty. I sit up straight, my heart immediately starting to pound, and my head whips back and forth as I try to make sense of the fact that my sheets are now sans Tess.

My skin feels itchy with her absence, and despite knowing that my instincts are apparently still running the show, I find myself stalking to my bedroom door and throwing it open with the intention of finding her and making sure she’s okay anyway. The door to her bedroom is closed, and figuring that turnabout is fair play, I don’t hesitate to raise my fist and beat against the wood. I hear her shuffling around in there immediately, her shadow appearing at the crack under the door.