Chapter 10

I was just about to call the family doctor to let him know I had already made my decision when he rang me first.

"Miss Marquez!" the family doctor greeted somewhat coldly.

"I was about to call you, and I've decided to—" I began, but he interrupted gently.

"Don't worry, Miss Marquez. It seems that Mister Monteverde also wants you to take suppressors," he said calmly.

My breath hitched. "What?" I stopped pacing in my tracks, stunned by his words.

"I know you're happy, but let me remind you—it's going to take a toll on your body. Bye now, Miss Marquez," he added, before ending the call.

I stared at the phone in my hand, disbelief sinking in. Lukas immediately found out. I clenched my fists, muttering bitterly, "That snitch." Referring to the family doctor, I couldn't believe how quickly he had informed Lukas about the whole situation.

One more thing, a part of me was irritated at Lukas' sudden decision—without even consulting me first. Yet, another part of me felt annoyed at myself, knowing I had no right to be irritated with him, since I also wanted to use suppressors in the first place. I scratched my head in frustration, feeling the weight of it all.

After a while, I found myself sulking and sinking into a sense of depression again. I guess this matter was over in an instant, leaving me with nothing but lingering unease.

The following days before my heat period was very difficult. I woke up in the middle of the night, my body a furnace, sweat beading on my skin. I kick off the sheets, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

Although the family doctor gave me some suppressors, I only drink it when I go out remembering that using it always would take a significant toll on my body. This is the third time of the day pleasuring myself. The first was when I woke up, then when I got home and now this is the third time. 

I slide my hands down my body, my fingers grazing my super wet pussy. I moan softly, my hips bucking slightly as I touch myself. I'm already so sensitive, my clit throbbing with need. I slide two fingers inside myself, my body clenching around them. I start to fuck myself slowly, my fingers curling inside me, hitting that spot that makes my toes curl.

"Fuck," I whisper, my eyes fluttering closed. "This is isn't enough, I need a real dick inside me," I muttered as I pulled my fingers out, my body protesting at the loss. I slid my fingers into my mouth, tasting myself while panting as I looked around looking something thick and big to put inside me. 

My gaze falls on the bed post finial, a thick, ornate piece of wood, and without hesitation I approach it and rub my pussy up and down. The cool wood against my hot, wet flesh makes me shiver in anticipation. Because of the wetness of my pussy, the bed post finial slides inside me with a pop, filling me up in a way that my fingers never could. I moan loudly, throwing my head back as I start to ride the makeshift dildo.

I can't help but remember Lukas' big dick and started imagining that it was him fucking me. "Lukas... Lukas..." I started moaning out his name louder and louder, my hips moving faster and faster. I picture his chiseled abs, his strong arms, and his piercing blue eyes. I imagine his hands on my hips, guiding me as he pounds into me from behind.

I reach down and start to play with my clit, my fingers moving in time with the thrusts of the bed post. I'm so close, I can feel it building inside me, a tight knot of pleasure that's ready to explode. I imagine Lukas' face as I come, his lips quirked up in a smirk as he watches me fall apart.

I screamed as I came, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave. My juices spilled onto the bedposts as I hoisted myself up to remove the final bed post from inside me. Afterward, I lay there, panting and sweaty, catching my breath.

I knew I needed to clean myself and the bedpost I've used. Most importantly, I had to use the suppressor again—before Lukas got home early. The effect of the suppressor I was using was very short-lived, lasting only about two hours. I hesitated, still unsure whether I should tell Lukas about it.

At that moment, I suddenly smelled his pheromones filling the room, and the heat in my body, which had just begun to subside, flared up again. My pussy started twitching and getting wet with need once more.

'Not again...' I thought, a wave of despair washing over me as I sensed Lukas standing outside my door. 'How is he home so early this time...?' I whimpered, fighting the overwhelming urge to plunge myself back onto the finial bedpost. My hands trembled as I gripped the edge of the bed, knuckles white.

The scent of him was intoxicating, a potent mix of strength and possessiveness that both terrified and aroused me. My Omega instincts screamed for release, for connection, for him. But the rational part of my brain, the part that clung to the fragile illusion of control, fought back with all its might.

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Lukas came home from work feeling tired, but he stopped dead in his tracks as he sensed Stella's heat. It was faint, masked, but undeniably there. He immediately went to Stella's room and was about to open the door when he heard her moaning, her voice a ragged whisper of his name. The sound sent a jolt of electricity through him.

Instead of suppressing her heat with his aura, as he should have, he unintentionally released his own pheromones. The image of Stella pleasuring herself, her body flushed and writhing, flooded his mind, and his control slipped. His Alpha instincts surged, demanding he claim her, protect her, possess her.

He waited, a predator stalking his prey, until he sensed she was done. Only then did he push the door open and step inside.

The sight that greeted him stole his breath. Stella was sprawled on the bed, fully naked, her skin glistening with sweat. The air thrummed with her arousal, a potent cocktail of desire and desperation that ignited a fire in his own loins. He could still sense the lingering traces of her pleasure, the subtle scent of her climax clinging to the air.

When she sensed him enter, her eyes flew open, wide and filled with a mixture of fear and longing. Tears welled up, blurring her vision.

"Lukas..." she choked out, her voice trembling. "T-The suppressor... Hurry..."

He stood there for a moment, frozen, torn between his duty and his desire. The rational part of him knew he should help her, ease her discomfort, and maintain the fragile peace they had established. But the Alpha within him, the part that had been dormant for so long, roared to life, demanding he ignore her plea and take what he wanted.

"Lukas..." she said, her voice laced with a desperate plea, snapping him out of his thoughts. He clenched his teeth, fighting against the primal urge to succumb to his instincts.

He immediately looked around her room, his gaze sharp and searching. He scanned the surfaces, the drawers, the shelves, but he couldn't see the suppressor anywhere. He moved to her walk-in closet, then to the vanity table, and finally to the bathroom, but still, he couldn't find it. "Where is it?" he said, his voice tight with suppressed frustration, without looking at her.

"I-It's in o-one of my b-bags..." she stammered, her body trembling as she fought to control the rising tide of her heat. She was trying to stop herself from moaning, but the effort was clearly taking its toll.

He quickly went inside her walk-in closet and rummaged through her bags, tossing them aside in his haste. Finally, he found it – a small, innocuous-looking injector filled with the suppressant. Relief washed over him, but it was quickly replaced by a renewed sense of urgency.

He quickly walked back to her side, grabbed her arm, and removed the cap from the injector, preparing to administer the dose. He needed to get her heat under control, to regain his own composure before things spiraled completely out of control.

But at that moment, Stella surged with a sudden burst of strength. She shoved his hand holding the suppressor away, sending the injector skittering across the floor. She pushed him down on the bed, reversing their positions, and straddled him, her eyes blazing with a mixture of defiance and desire.

Without hesitation, she leaned down and kissed him on the lips.

The kiss was raw, desperate, and electrifying. Her lips were soft and yielding, yet her grip on his shoulders was firm and unyielding. He tasted her heat, her need, her rebellion, and it was almost too much to bear.

His mind reeled. Was this what she truly wanted? Was she surrendering to her instincts, embracing the chaos that threatened to consume them both?