The line had been drawn.
Not on a map. Not in blood on marble. But here — between my body and his, between the Queen I had become and the fractured woman I still was, between the realm that demanded its Supreme Alpha and the omega who refused to surrender him.
I stayed straddling Justin’s lap, his throbbing c**k buried deep inside me, the neutral sensitizer turning every tiny movement into liquid fire. The afternoon sun had shifted to a deep amber, casting long bloody shadows across the treatment room. His thighs shook violently with the effort of holding the kneeling position. Sweat rolled down the hard planes of his chest and abdomen in heavy rivulets. His c**k pulsed helplessly inside me, leaking steadily, denied release even as I took everything I wanted.
I rocked against him slowly
