Page 29 of Run Wild Omega

It’s not about desire. It’s not about passion. It’s purely physiological. I need an orgasm to reset my nervous system, a flood of endorphins to shut my brain up.

My fingers ghost over the fabric of my sweatpants. I close my eyes, trying to conjure an image. Anything. A face. A sensation.

But my mind is a traitor.

It pivots instantly to Marcus. The memory of his mouth on my neck, the degradation in his voice. You’re a needy little Omega. The shame of his office, the supply closet. The memory of his hands on me makes my skin crawl, but my body remembers the conditioning, the Pavlovian response to his dominance.

I shove the image away violently. The thought of him makes me feel sick, not aroused.

Then it flips to Wyatt.

God, Wyatt.

The memory of his hand on my wrist this morning. The heat of his skin against mine. The smell of pine and smoke. The memory of him in the backseat of his truck, all those years ago, looking at me like I was the only star in the sky. The memory of him inside me, careful and terrified and so incredibly present.

The thoughts war in my head—cruelty versus gentleness, past versus present, hatred versus love. It’s a mess. It’s confusing.

I grind my teeth, forcing my fingers to move faster. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to feel. I just want the release. I force the rhythm, chasing the peak, using the friction to drown out the ghosts.

I picture Wyatt’s eyes, dark and intense. I imagine his hand on my thigh instead of mine, his weight pressing me down. The fantasy helps for a second, sparking a flame.

When my orgasm hits, it’s not a wave. It’s a jagged spasm. My back arches off the rug, a choked gasp tearing from my throat.

I collapse back onto the floor, my chest heaving.

Silence returns, but it’s heavier now. My body is temporarily sated, loose in the aftermath, but my mind feels worse. The release was hollow, unsatisfactory. I didn’t find peace; I just found a momentary numbness.

I lie there for a long time, staring at the ceiling fan until the blades blur.

I check my phone again. 4:30 p.m.

I sit up, rubbing my hands over my face. I need to get out of here. I need to move.

I pick up my phone, scroll to Leo’s name, and press call.

He picks up after two rings.

“Hey, Tess!” The background noise is loud—the rhythmic hum of tires over pavement and music floating through car speakers. “I was just about to call you.”

“Leo?” I frown, pacing the living room. “Where are you? What’s all that noise?”

“I’m actually driving down to Denver right now,” he says. “With all this fresh snow on the pass, we had to cancel every guided hike for the next two days anyway. I figured I’d make a day of it and run some errands in the city, maybe grab dinner with my pack.”

My foot stops mid-step. I stare at the wall, taken aback. “You’re in Denver? I had no idea you were leaving.”

“It was totally spur of the moment,” Leo says, sounding apologetic. “I wanted to surprise Mara and Daniel. I was going to call you as soon as I pulled into town. How are you holding up at home?”

“Oh,” I say, my voice sounding hollow. “Right. That makes sense. Daniel seems happy that the deposition is finally over.”

“He is. We’re relieved. Are you okay? You sound a little tense.”

“Just bored,” I tell him, swallowing the spike of frustration tight in my throat. “I was just calling to see if you wanted to grab a beer at the Bluejay, but it’s no big deal. Enjoy your trip.”

“Are you sure you’re okay, Tess? I can turn around if you need something.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Leo. I’m fine, really. Just going to figure out something to do around here. Have a good drive.”

“All right… if you say so. Call me if anything comes up.”