Ophelia & the Twins

After a few minutes, my fear gives way to fascination. These alphas truly are amazing creatures. Even though it is pitch black down here, they are able to navigate the cave tunnels flawlessly. Not once do they make a misstep or bump into one of the walls, and whenever there is a ledge or obstacle, they warn me and help me step over it. It’s as if they have some kind of sixth sense or something.

When Dr. Toth talked about shutting down the Source, he made it sound as though we would be curing the alphas of a disease. But if you ask me, Romulus and Remus’s abilities seem more like superpowers than symptoms. And to say their bodies appear healthy would be an understatement. I only caught a brief glimpse of them earlier, but the image is still seared into my mind’s eye. They looked like a pair of gods, tall and powerfully muscled in a way no ordinary human male could ever hope to be.

Shit, I need to stop thinking like that. Without my medication, my shameful urges are continuing to grow, and thinking about my saviors’ hard bodies isn’t helping matters any.

But the real problem is their odor.

There’s no escaping it.

It doesn’t smell bad exactly. Just strong and... animalic. As we walk through the darkness together, I have to carefully regulate my breathing so I don’t pull too much of that supremely masculine scent into my lungs. Even the tiniest whiff is enough to make my pulse quicken with arousal. I’m grateful for the inky blackness of the cave–it hides the aching stiffness of my nipples, which are exposed by the holes Bryce tore in my body glove. I just hope the twins can’t smell the wetness seeping from the place between my legs, which is also exposed by a tear in my uniform.

Suddenly, something clenches deep within my core, a shooting pain that doubles me over and makes me gasp. I feel myself losing my balance, and my hands reflexively dart out to brace myself against the alphas’ hard bodies for support. But my fingers find a different, unexpected hardness.

Oh...

Oh, God.

My hands have landed on the fronts of the both alphas’ loincloths, and I can feel their male anatomy, hard and hot beneath the primitive animal hide coverings.

The alphas are aroused. Very aroused. And impossibly big.

“Ophelia?”

They speak my name in perfect unison, a double baritone that rumbles straight into my deepest epicenter. I gasp again, and their alpha scent fills my lungs, flooding my system like a narcotic. I tremble as slippery secretions spill from the apex between my legs and trickle down my inner thighs like warm honey.

“Romulus,” I whisper. “Remus.”

Four strong arms lift me upright, and I find myself sandwiched between two hard alpha bodies. They purr again, from deep within their broad chests, and the sound vibrates through me, seemingly rearranging my entire body chemistry in the process. All I can think about is how good it would feel to have them inside me, filling me, stretching me, fucking me...

Breeding me.

This is nothing like what happened with Bryce a few minutes ago. I want this. I want them. My needy body cries out for relief from this agony, and my skin screams for their masculine touch.

The twins oblige.

Their hands rove over me, rough hands scarred and callused by a primal way of life. Their fingers explore the terrain of my body, and with each new discovery, we all three moan with animalistic pleasure.

God, this is wrong. So very, very wrong.

These men–these alphas–are total strangers, but I want them to dominate me, to use me, to break me.

At first, their hands glide over the parts of me that are still covered by my body glove, but soon they find the places where Bryce tore holes in the fabric. They fondle my bare breasts and pinch my erect nipples.

Romulus is in front of me, and Remus is behind. I’m not sure how I know that, I just do. Remus’s fingers slide over my bottom and trace the cleft of my ass. Meanwhile, Romulus’s fingers rub my pubic hair and move along my outer folds. Just a little deeper, and they will both be touching my two most private and sensitive places. I know I should stop them, but I can’t bring myself to say the word. It feels too damn good.

I tense in anticipation...

“HALT!”

It’s not my voice that yells that word, but a strange, artificial monotone that echoes through the tunnel like thunder. With a surprised gasp, I turn my face in the direction of the sound, and I see a faint blue glow moving toward us around a curve in the tunnel.

We are no longer alone.

Someone is coming.