Claiming Their Omega: Alpha Security Company, #2
By Mina Carter
4.5/5
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About this ebook
I'm an alpha. Top of the food chain. What I want, I take, simple as. And I want her. I don't care she's a beta, not an omega. She's mine.
I've wanted Neve for years, now she works for us. The problem is, I can't keep my hands off her. And neither can Dante. I'm good with sharing, as long as I can call her mine.
Beta or not, She's the hottest woman I've ever seen. She's lucky she isn't an omega. If she was, she'd already be wearing my mark and we'd never let her out of her nest.
Then her ex starts sniffing around, and he really doesn't know what he's gotten himself into. We might wear suits now, but we haven't forgotten the monsters within.
Now they're coming out to play…
Please be aware: This is a much darker and grittier world than my other series, so readers are advised to proceed with caution.
A Continuing Story: Please be aware this is a serialized romance in three parts.
Mina Carter
Mina Carter was born and raised in Middle Earth (otherwise known as the Midlands, England). After a slew of careers ranging from logistics to land-surveying she can now be found in the wilds of Leicestershire with her husband, daughter and a cat who moved in and never left. Suffering the curse of eternal curiosity, Mina never tires of learning new skills which has led to Aromatherapy, Corsetry, Chain-maille making, Welding, Canoeing, Shooting, and pole-dancing to name but a few. A full-time author and cover artist, Mina can usually be found hunched over a keyboard or graphics tablet, frantically trying to get the images and words in her head out and onto the screen before they drive her mad. She's addicted to coffee and Dairy-lea cheese triangles.
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Reviews for Claiming Their Omega
39 ratings1 review
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Love this authors books the sex scenes are hot hot hot
Book preview
Claiming Their Omega - Mina Carter
CHAPTER ONE
MASON
T hank fuck for that,
Dante hissed as the phone clattered back into its receiver. In the same second we were both on our feet in a race across the office. There was a small jostle in the doorway. Dante used his bigger bulk to shoulder me aside and yank the door open. He almost took it off its hinges in his eagerness to see our pretty little beta again.
I didn’t blame him. For hours, all I’d been able to think about was Neve’s perfect little pussy—the sweet way she tasted when she came on my tongue and the soft little sounds she made in her rapture. I wanted that again. I wanted more than that. I wanted her wrapped around my cock, taking every inch of my thick, swollen length as she cried out in pleasure.
The only thing that stopped me making that fantasy into reality was the four-hour classified phone conference with our contacts in the Alpha Council. The pair of us might be hotshots in the security industry, but that didn’t mean we could piss off the Alpha Council. A separate branch of the government, some said they were higher than the government itself. They literally ruled all alphas in the country, including Dante and me.
But soon, I promised myself. Tonight. If only I could control myself enough not to take her across her desk as we nearly had earlier. I rode the keen edge of need, which warred with my self-control. Only the sure and certain fact that she was a beta and needed a lot of preparation, both physical and mental, reined me in.
But as we stepped out into the office, a shock awaited us.
Neve wasn’t there.
The office was empty.
I turned and cut a glance to Dante. Confusion rolled through me. Why wasn’t she out here waiting for us? Especially after what we’d done together earlier. My heart sank as my alpha howled within.
Had we pushed too hard and scared her off? We could compel her, but unlike if she’d been an omega, we couldn’t bind her to us permanently. She had to stay of her own free will.
I cut a glance to Dante. He looked equally as dumbfounded as I was, standing in the middle of the room with his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.
"Fuck," he ground out as he glanced at the clock on the wall. I followed his gaze and almost facepalmed. It was a quarter to six. She finished at five, and with us locked in a meeting she couldn’t attend, she’d obviously given up and gone home. Shit. I looked at the clock again. That meant she’d been gone at least forty-five minutes.
We should have come out and asked her to wait,
I muttered, annoyed with myself—both for forgetting the time due to my erotic daydreams, and for any possible upset I’d caused our little kitten.
No shit.
Dante’s growl was low and as frustrated as I was. He stalked across the office to her in-tray, rifling through the paperwork.
I gaped at him.
What the fuck are you doing? We don’t have time for fucking filing, for fuck’s sake,
I growled, my voice dropping with my alpha.
Every instinct I had urged me to get out the door and track her down. It wasn’t rocket science. I had her scent. I could track her across the city to wherever she lived, but we needed to go now while the scent was still fresh. She didn’t have a car, that much I knew. The scent of the subway had been too strong on her when she’d arrived. Every second we waited was a second too long. And it was rush hour. The subway would be filled with people, which would take me longer to sort through the scents to find her.
Dante finally straightened up, a file in his hand. He waved it at me like a flag. Some of us like to work smarter, not harder. Her employee file… with her residential address.
Well… fuck. I closed my eyes, running a large hand through my hair. It was a mess anyway, like always. No comb could tame it. Why hadn’t I thought of looking in her file?
Come on then,
I snarled, antsy to get out the door. What are we waiting for?
My anger and frustration increased as we drove across the city to the address in Neve’s file. Being rush hour, traffic was horrendous, and I was ready to blow by the time we reached our destination. Some asshole had cut me off on the circular route through the center of town, and then we’d been stuck behind a backup due to a road traffic accident.
Fucking traffic,
I snarled as I pulled the car to a stop. I looked up at the building and narrowed my eyes. You sure this is the place?
I sure hoped not. The narrow apartment block was depression in brick form. Faded paint peeled away from the brickwork in large flakes. The tiny windows were grimy, and at least three were broken, mended with boards already discolored due to the weather.
I looked around. The rest of the neighborhood was just as bad. Concern mounted that our little beta was walking these streets on her own. This area wasn’t safe for betas, let alone beta women, a fact I knew but had never become important to me before.
Yeah. She’s in apartment 7b.
Dante’s voice was as unimpressed as mine when we climbed out of the car and headed for the front door. I didn’t need the confirmation. I caught her scent as soon as I got out of the car, following it right up to the door.
The lobby was just as dingy and dull as the outside of the building, with three out of four ceiling lights out. The sole remaining light flickered on and off above the mailboxes like it was auditioning for a horror movie.
I cast a glance down at the names. Most were so faded and stained that they were unreadable. Only one stood out, the bright white label taped next to the others. Obviously a recent arrival.
Apartment 7b—N. Clark.
My frown deepened. What the fuck was she doing living in a dump like this? Robert Sinclair