Sugar Coated

47

Delaney Linwood

I'd started too high on the scale I think because a 10 was too low of a number to give whatever that was compared to what I'd rated a 5.

Andres had my hips in a chokehold and my chest was smashed into the fly of Jax's work pants, cradling the hard bar of his cock that my mouth was watering to feel inside me seeing as the toy has been better than I'd ever expected it could be.

If I could spend the rest of my life in this pack I would just for the chance to get railed every day by one of them. "...Me?"

I didn't quite know what I'd asked, but my hands were gripping Jax's dress shirt hard enough to pop buttons off until I could see the smooth skin of his abs.

Everyone froze except for me as I tried to claw my way up his body, only Andres' punishing grip held me in place and I couldn't get to where I wanted; that sinful mouth.

"Fuck Doll," Andres bit out the words hauling me back away from Jax with a surprising second wind given the fact I'd seen how his arms shook when he'd fucked me into the cushions, heard the way I'd wrung one out of his body while the waves of my orgasm crashed over me until he'd filled me up more than anyone ever had in my life.

I let out a frustrated cry as my nails scratched trails down Jax's stomach.

His hands found mine, though gripping me tight so I had something to hold onto, "you'll hurt yourself, Doll, wait for the toy to deflate." Jax's voice sounded too far away. His mouth was too far away. It should be at my ear, under it, and in my blood. Why was he still so far away from me?

"Please," My voice was approaching that screeching panicky pitch and I could see it reverberate in his eyes, to worry and concern. It pinched his eyebrows together until they made a neat little line between them. "You promised." The words took all of the air out of my lungs when I said them, leaving me with nothing inside me.

He'd promised me. He'd promised me he wanted me so badly that he'd bite me the second I asked, but he lied. No. He didn't lie. I felt the ghost of my mother's fingers around my throat. They were as cold as her heart and the bones in her grave.

"Packs don't want Betas, Delaney, and it's time you accept that. Stop being so childish. Rosalind and will leave you behind. You know why? Because we're not good enough for them. She already has her little Omega. You won't be good enough for them."

I'd wailed and screamed. The memory was loud enough that I could feel the pressure behind my sternum, trying to rip its way back out into the air between us with fangs and teeth and every sharp jagged piece of me that my mother had left behind.

I drew first blood between us when by all rights it should have been Jackson's to claim. It wasn't with teeth; he kept himself carefully removed from me, at arm's length.

I dug my nails into the healing bite on his arm, the bite that he'd stolen from me. "Why aren't I good enough for you?! Why don't you want me? I'm good I promise! I've tried to be so good, but it's not enough! Why isn't it enough? Why is it never enough? I've given you everything?!" The tears blurred my vision enough that I swear I could pick pieces out of the blur of colors in front of me.

Jackson took every scream that was meant for the fragile pieces of my mother that still haunted me.

His white dress shirt was the hospital blanket that dwarfed her at the end, covering her thin frame, battered by the chemo. Even with her fire gone, she'd had no softness for me, for the daughter that sat in silence at her bedside while she fell asleep.

"You can't do anything right Delaney. Look at you. Look at this mess. I've told you time and time again you need to keep this room straight. If you can't appreciate the things I've bought you and keep them in their proper places then they're going in the trash. Your bed is for bed sheets and that's it. I've told you that enough, but now you're going to learn. No self-respecting Beta lives in a pig stye like this."