Chapter 02 03 Caramel Drizzle Mm

Content Warning: This is a steamy read intended for a mature audience only. It includes laws within the omegaverse that they follow that are different from ours. This isn't viewed as coercion or an unwilling act. It's simply their law. Chapter Three contains elements of humiliation.

Chapter Two | Gareth

My office fills with the sounds of grunts and groans.

Why would he do that?

I spread my thighs wider, adjusting my position.

Wearing that?

"Ung..."

The air thickens with musk and pheromones.

"This is ridiculous," I grumble as a bead of sweat trickles down my temple.

Of all the madness in the world, why him?

It was supposed to be simple.

Hire him.

Keep him close.

But now...

His cries echo in my head, the tight pink material pulling taut as my load shoots all over my desk. I grunt, bowing forward, panting, my knot expanding inside the tight confines of fabric. A tease of the real thing.

"He'll pay for this," I growl, pulling out a small black box, placing it on my desk and opening it.

Smirking, I straighten, looking down at my spent shaft, still half hard. I take in my knot. My face contorts into a sneer. Seeing the pitiful scrap of fabric stretched to its limits around the behemoth.

He'd scream so beautifully.

Even beg me for more.

My cock twitches, eager for more, but I have things to do, a business to run.

Fisting the massive rod, I tuck it into my pants, the pink fabric staying exactly where it belongs. Strangled on my knot.

Exactly like an omega should.

Chapter Three | Wilder

I hesitate outside the heavy wooden tavern door, the bleary afternoon sky threatening to open up any minute now. Still, that same feeling, as yesterday swirls around inside my gut, is back. But I can't stand here forever, or I'll risk getting soaked.

It's not like I have much of a choice.

My boss is now my alpha.

My hands curl in on themselves, I glare at the old, cracked wood and the cluster fuck that was yesterday. I'd been desperate and made a stupid and rash decision to evade getting penalized by the law and risk losing my job.

I can't go back to my parents after years of dreaming of what's on the other side of those old stone walls and tall steel gates. I wanted more for my life than the pampered one I'd been gifted, and part of growing up means taking responsibility for your actions.

If I wait any longer, I'll be late, and yesterday will have been for nothing.

Righting my shoulders, I lift my chin and push open the door.

The large tavern room is quiet except for some old jazz music playing in the background over the carefully concealed speakers hidden by the wooden panelling. Muted light filters through the orange glass panes, highlighting the black leather booths and the immaculate bar. It feels like I've stepped back in time, and a part of my soul soothes.

That is, until heavy footfalls come around the corner, and my boss's hulking form, half shrouded in darkness, appears like an apparition.

"Good," his cold gaze racks over my simple jacket and jeans ensemble. "You're here. I've got your new uniform in my office."

He looks over me one last time before his icy blue eyes land on my face. His gaze hardens, and I realize he's waiting for a response.

"Yes, sir--"his nostrils flair, and I quickly correct myself. "Yes, alpha."

He grunts, turns on his heel and heads toward the stairwell behind the bar. I glower at his back as I follow suit. His wide shoulders, clad in his crisp Italian jacket, span almost the entire width of the hallway. A foreboding shiver rolls down my spine. Sometimes, I forget just how huge alphas can be.

It's early enough in the morning that the tavern hasn't opened yet, meaning we're the only two here. The rest of the staff won't show up until later in the afternoon.

"Wait in there." His tone is firm as he motions to the break room, and I gulp.

"Yes, alpha." I grit my teeth and do as he asks. Hating the awful flavour of calling him my alpha leaves in my mouth.

When it's just me, I take a deep breath and head over to my locker along the wall adjacent to the door. Thumbing open the lock, I unzip my fluffy jacket and hang it on one of the steel hooks.

Setting my work shoes on the floor, I sit on the bench and start to unlace my boots when something lands beside me with a soft thunk. Startled, having not heard my boss's approach, I look over to see a small rectangular box and a small scrap of silky black fabric next to it.

Eyebrows furrowed, I look up at my boss. He's staring coolly back at me.

"Change into these." He folds his burly arms across his broad chest.

He doesn't leave. Only stands there, hovering over me, watching.

"A-are you just going to stand there and watch?"

His brow dips, annoyance clear on his face. "Did I ask you to question me?"

His voice slides over me like ice shards, raising the hairs on my arms and making me shiver as a coil of unease settles in my stomach. I dislike disobedience.

"No, alpha." I shake my head but am incapable of moving. It's like yesterday all over again. Having his unwavering attention locked on me.

"Strip," he snarls between his teeth. "I have things to do, and you need to prep for the lunch rush."

With trembling legs, I stand, lowering my eyes to the floor so I don't have to see him staring, but I can feel his gaze like hot flames licking along my flesh, even with my clothes still on.

I undo my jeans and slide them off, resisting the urge to turn away from the dominant alpha and his scrutiny. Slipping my feet out, I bend down and place them on the bench. My hand is barely reaching for the silky fabric before he barks, "Panties, too."

I quickly glance up to see if I heard him correctly, but he's still standing there with a scowl on his face, waiting for me to obey his orders. I bite back the question on the tip of my tongue; I don't want to make him angry.

My fingers shake as I slip the lilac lace down my thighs, exposing myself to my alpha. Even though I'm out of my depth and my mind is reeling, there's a part of me that is also exhilarated by doing what my alpha asks. It doesn't make sense. I should be appalled that my boss wants me to strip out in the open--anyone could walk in--but an intrinsic part of me also wants to please him as my alpha.

It's a very small part, but it's there, much to my displeasure.

Stepping out of the panties, I set them on top of my jeans and grab the silk before Gareth can say anything and slide the soft fabric up my curvy thighs.

I almost hate that I'm pleased by the new uniform, but I've never felt such silky smooth materials over my naked flesh, and I buy expensive undergarments. It slips and glides over my skin, light and airy, ending right below my buttocks, and the waist is secured by a simple metal clasp at the hip.

"Good," My alpha rumbles, and I find my cheeks heating from his approval. "Open the box."

I lift the mid-weight box, the lid sliding off with a gentle pop. Musk instantly fills the air as I gasp in surprise, breathing it in. Inhaling the all-too-familiar scent of my boss, mixed with his pheromones and the telltale sign of musk, has me dropping the box as my side hits the wall of lockers with a loud bang. My hand goes to my throat, and my body shakes, trying to get myself under control.

"Interesting," Gareth looms closer, eyeing me up and down. "That was only a mild taste of my pheromones."

He stops in front of me. I sag, trying to grip the smooth steel lockers with my fingertips to keep myself up. He has the box in his hand with a bulbous anal plug the colour of an eggplant, holding it up, the scent of his pheromones hitting me harder. He must have had the box open while inside a room, releasing his alpha scent into the air, which is now embedded into the toy. It's not illegal to let it out, but it's courteous not to do so in a public place like the employee break room.

"W-why?" I try to straighten, my thighs slipping together from slick pooling in my crack.

If possible, his eyes turn even colder, and I have to clench my back teeth from letting them chatter.

"Protection," he says as he takes the plug from the box. It looks dainty in his palm, but that just reminds me how much bigger he is than me. Dropping the box out of sight, he grabs onto my forearm before hoisting me around. My front slams into the metal with an oomph. Pressing my pointed nipples firmly against the cold steel with a hiss as they ache.

"This way you'll always carry my scent even when I'm not close. To hopefully deter nosy alphas from getting too close."

What he's saying makes sense, but I'm more worried about that big plug fitting into my small hole. I've never taken anything more than his fingers, and it's a significant girth, but at least it's not long.

The back of Gareth's knuckles brushes up the back of my thigh, causing it to tremble in his wake and underneath the short hem of my skirt. He pauses, the tips of his fingers smearing through the copious amounts of slick dripping from my hole.

A loud rumble echoes off the walls before I register that it's coming from Gareth, the vibrations travelling into my body from where he's touching me, making my hole spasm.

"Now open up, omega." His fingers swirl around my dripping pucker before suddenly thrusting inside.

I wheeze and choke on my cry as he tunnels his way forcefully inside, scissoring them once he's knuckles deep. Not giving me a chance to adjust to his fingers.

"I said open up." He smacks the underside of my ass, instantly making it smart.

I don't know what he wants, but I do the only thing I can think of, and that's to spread my legs a little and arch my hips so he can drive in deeper.

"Good, omega." He replies, and that weird satisfaction fills me with pride. More slick drenches his fingers, making him rumble once more.

He wedges in another finger, and I have to bite back a hiss of pain because this is more procedural than arousing as he tries to pry my inner muscles apart so he can shove in a plug. He doesn't even bother pressing on my prostate, only brushing past it a few times, and it borders on maddening as my dick starts to plump from the continuous intrusion and his thickening pheromones permeating the air.

Suddenly, his fingers are gone, and I have to bite back my woeful whine of displeasure even as my hips thrust backwards. Instead of his fingers, they're replaced by something solid, something large and round, that starts pressing against the tight ring of muscles.

"W-wait," I choke, my hands scrambling up the locker, trying to get away as tears burn the corners of my eyes. The pain of the hurried intrusion overwhelms my senses. "It's too big!" I cry out.

"Nonsense," he quips, but he pulls my hips back with his large hand and his hand snakes around to my waning dick. "All you need is a bit of encouragement."

His idea of encouragement is to milk my dick for all it's worth, with strong, firm strokes, moving so fast that my hips start to buck back and forth. He keeps the plug in place, keeping a steady pressure on my tight entrance, pressing into me while his palm engulfs my shaft in sweet ecstasy on the downwards stroke. I'm practically jerking myself off in my boss's strong grip.

"Oh, god... oh, god, oh, god!" My words tumble out of my mouth. I can feel my release tightening in the base of my spine, moving down towards my groin, before my balls pull up in my sack and I'm shooting all over the locker and Gareth's hand with a loud cry.

All the while, the large plug slips past my outer ring with a slight sting before my body slurps it up with a wet pop. I'm still clenching inside, my walls fluttering and contracting around the large foreign object. It's not overly long, but it's round enough that I can feel it on all sides. Prolonging my orgasm.

Oh, god... will I have to wear this for my whole shift? I'm working a double shift, covering for Tracey so she can attend a concert tonight.

"Cleans this up before you head upstairs."

I don't even bother to turn around as I'm left alone in the break room. I wait until my legs start to feel somewhat solid before I peel myself away from the lockers and stare at the white streaks painting the door. My skin turns ablaze, and I dare a peek at the open doorway. Gareth is in his office, the door slightly ajar.

All the while, the minutes to opening are ticking by, and I know he'll bark at me if I open late.

It takes two seconds to remember I have an anal plug lodged inside my hole as I try to take a step towards the sink and another second to remember it's marked with my boss--alphas, scent. My stomach does somersaults. I'm going to smell like him all night, and I don't know how I feel about that.

Cheeks on fire, I glare at the door, telling myself to ignore it as I finish tidying up.

After cleaning up my mess, and between my legs, I'm putting my extra clothes in the locker when I notice my panties are missing.

"They have to be around here somewhere," I mutter as I search high and low. Even getting onto my knees, making the plug jolt forward, but it's not under the locker or the bench.

I nibble on my finger as hopelessness settles inside the pit of my stomach. I'm going to have to go a whole shift without my panties on. It might not have been so bad yesterday since I'd been wearing shorts, but this skirt is barely long enough to cover my bits.

What if I drop something on the floor? I'll be flashing the whole pub, my ass stuffed with my alphas plug.

Whimpering helplessly, I debate, asking Gareth if he's seen them, but I don't want him to know I'm missing my panties. What if he makes me go home? There's nothing in the handbook about proper undergarments, but I'm sure it goes without saying that you should be wearing something underneath your uniform.

Shoulders slumping, I give up. I check my phone to see if my father has sent me a message one last time, but the screen is still blank. I guess he hasn't gotten the notification of my new alpha yet. He's the type of man to rule with an iron fist, everything tightly regulated, which is why my stomach has been in knots this whole time.

Maybe it's not too late to cancel the form? But Tracey and a few other patrons were eyeing me up yesterday after I walked back upstairs. What if one of them talks? Or suspects what happened downstairs. There was no hiding the pheromones wafting off of me and the telltale scent of musk from my release. We need an alibi, so all hope of wriggling my way out of this flies out the window.

***

It's late, and my feet are aching from standing for the last twelve hours, but there are still three more to go. After the lunch rush and happy hour, I had all but forgotten I'd been wearing the plug until I sat down for my hour-long break to eat dinner. I'd almost choked on my water as I sat down on the hard chair.

And now I've grown all too aware of its presence deep inside my ass as I scuttle around the tavern delivering drinks and appetizers from the kitchen. Not to mention with every step, the gentle swish of the silk fabric against my thighs reminds me that my dick is swinging freely, side to side, grazing against the smooth folds.

It's pure torture, every touch and caress reminding me of my boss, my alpha, and how he made me come all over the lockers earlier today. I can't avoid him. He's all over my skin, inside me. Every step is him. It's like he's gently caressing my skin, teasing me by skimming across the half-chub hiding beneath the hem of my skirt. One wrong move, and I'll flash a customer, all but presenting his ownership over me.

I tremble, hating the truth.

"Hey, Wilder, I'm going on my fifteen," Kaylen says from behind the bar as I set down a basket of wings at one of the booths.

"Okay," I nod, not really thinking too much of it. It's past the evening rush, my aching feet are taking up half of my attention, and there aren't that many customers at the moment.

My coworker is gone for no less than a minute when the bell above the door chimes. I'm serving the last of an order on the floor when a boisterous group of young men walk in. At the same time, a cool gust of wind swirls around my thighs, my balls tucking against my groin as I shiver.

There are at least ten of them, and I can tell this isn't the first pub they've been to tonight by the stench of liquor and their rowdy behaviour.

A prickle of unease swoops through my belly as they swarm around me, bumping into me as they flood to the booths.

"Hey, what do we have here?" A hand slides around my back and down towards my ass before he gives it a slap that has me jolting forwards into a burly physique. Something small clatters to the floor, but I'm too focused on the men to find out what.

I manage to catch myself and hurriedly push myself away, my heart pounding in my chest. They aren't alphas, but surely they can smell the intense pheromones surrounding me. I've had a couple of customers give me the odd sniff before turning away. But perhaps the alcohol is messing with their sense of smell.

"Looks like a tasty treat." The big one laughs as he tries to brush back a wayward lock of blonde hair that's fallen out of place when they bumped into me. Revulsion curdles in my stomach, and I flinch back, not liking the unwanted touch.

"I-I, I'm the bartender," I say, finding my voice as I back away, only to bump into the one that slapped my ass. His hands quickly slide down my wide hips and down the silky material.

"Shame, we could've used some entertainment tonight." His fingertips brush my bare thighs, sending a shiver down my spine.

Breathing frantically, I scurry my way out between them. They both laugh at my scowl, and I try to hold myself together as I boil with anger and embarrassment. I know I'm an omega, but that doesn't mean I can't be a bartender.

"Look, you've scared him off."

The other guy scoffs. "Nah, I like 'em feisty."

"Why don't you bring us a round of whatever's cheapest on tap." The big guy thumps the other guy on the shoulder, and they turn back to their friends.

I'm not sure what to think as I duck behind the bar. This is the first time a customer has ever crossed the line, and it makes my skin crawl. I've heard the stories of omegas being accosted, but I never thought it would happen to me.

And a small part of me wishes my alpha was there to save me, a very small part of me.

Fingers trembling, I fiddle around with the small apron tied around my waist, trying to calm myself. My hand goes to the pocket with my small notepad for taking orders, and I instantly notice that my pen is missing.

"Drats," I hiss, running my hand through my hair to smooth back the hairs, but the loose strands fall back into my eyes anyway. That was my only pen. How am I going to take orders now? Per my probationary period, I'm supposed to use it for three months before I'm allowed to do it by memory. "Ugh..." I groan. Nothing is going right today.

With their drinks on a tray, I carefully bring them over to their table. Even though every instinct tells me to avoid them, I have to do my job. I don't have a choice. I need this job.

"Here you go," I make quick work of setting their drinks down, hoping I can scamper away before they can ask me anything else, but a hand shoots out and grabs my wrist before I can turn away.

"Hey, what's the rush?" The handsy one strokes my wrist with his thumb. "Aren't you going to take our order?"

"Of, course." I yank my hand away, and he thankfully drops it after two tugs, but the way his tongue slides across his teeth and his eyes slide over my body tells me he's not ready to give up quite yet.

They ramble off a few appetizers and a pitcher for the table. It's a good thing I have a decent memory, I think as I turn away only to run into a large, very familiar chest. I inhale sharply. Conflicting emotions travel through my brain as I realize it's my alpha. A part of me is grateful he's here, and another hates the way my muscles start to relax as his scent infiltrates my nose.