The Golden Line (Knotted 1) - Page 61

This was unlike the familiar pain Morgaine had been plagued with back at the settlement. Yes, there were shooting cramps that stole her breath and left her sweating, but they didn’t hurt so much as gnaw at her. Between her legs was a swamp of angry shocks and leaking need.

Empty, she was so empty.

Confined in her cubicle, she paced, arranged the fur on her bedding, moved it again. Over and over, all the while feeling as if none of this would do.

Where was the necessary pit full of soft things that must be arranged to ease the sting on her skin? Where was the man who might purr and lessen the tension that kept her teeth clacking together?

It was as if she could already taste spice cake on her tongue.

To just see him, to hear his voice, would ease the consuming need and refresh her. But over and over she had been told he could not come.

Why?

Sobbing at the injustice of it, unsure if she burned with fever or was chilled by the shards of ice traveling through her veins, Morgaine pled with Etaine to ease her discomfort.

“There is no medicine for this. Your body will have its way,” the woman had said, tired from being woken in the middle of the night. “You either wait out your heat, or ask an Alpha to break it for you.”

Tearing at her hair, tempted to throw back her head and howl out her frustration, Morgaine snapped. “The only Alpha I know on this ship refuses to come speak to me!”

“Our Heidron commands this fleet. It might not be that he refuses so much as he is engaged in his duties.” Watching how Morgaine picked at the fur clutched closely to her chest, the translator offered, “He courts no other. You have no rival to fear warming his nest. He will come.”

Rival?

The thought that Simin might speak to another female as he spoke to her, that he might bring her food, and soft words, had the oddest effect. First rage, then a great cramping sweep of sticky slick that waved from her womb and splattered the floor.

Too absorbed by churning sensation to even be embarrassed, Morgaine glared at the puddle.

Thighs slipping against one another, she succumbed to the need for some form of pressure. Pressing her fist against her mound, trying to catch up the spilling slick in her night garment before more was wasted on the floor, she asked again for her friend. “I just need to hear his purr.”

“That’s not what you need, Morgaine.” Averting her eyes, Etaine explained, “You are almost through transition. Soon, all you’ll need is sexual stimulation. Remember what we talked about. Omegas who refuse to mate during estrous must manually handle the urges.”

She had been provided with an embarrassingly large, male shaped… tool. It sat under her cot where she’d stashed it the same day the Omega Superior had brought it to her. But it would be cold and lifeless.

A fake organ would not pulsate the way she remembered when Simin laid her down on his furs and silks. It wouldn’t fill her with scented cream.

Stomach rumbling, Morgaine began to suck at the tips of her fingers.

Hungry.

But he always brought her food. Simin wouldn’t forget, right? He would come with something and her mouth was watering just imagining a sweet burst of flavor on her tongue.

A chime rang, snapping her from sultry memory into agitation. “What is that?”

Relief was palpable in Etaine’s sigh. “Your kor’yr has arrived.”

It never crossed her mind to pull a dress over her shift, to cover her bare feet or recognize that her skirt was saturated. Morgaine fled her room, padding down the hall and across the grand foyer to find that he had come at last.

But there was no tray to slake her hunger, no tea to wet her tongue. Near tears, she stopped short and stared wide-eyed.

Simin was dressed.

Offended that so grand a chest had been hidden from her sight, Morgaine refused to look at him.

Winded from the sprint, Etaine arrived on her heels just in time to translate Simin’s greeting. “It’s late, kor’yr. The Omegas called for me to come to you. Do you have need of me?”

The depth of his voice worked upon her, leading the Omega to grimace. A cramp unlike the others stole her breath and almost sent her sprawling. She had been so wrong. His presence was not a comfort, it only increased the pain.

And now it was real pain

Tags: Addison Cain Knotted Paranormal
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