Page 22 of Bad Omega

“Eri, what are we going to do with you?”

I casually graze my fingers over the half-chub that’s starting to press against the front of his loincloth.

“Oh, I can think of a few things,” I tell him. “But first we have some shopping to do…”

I find a stand nearby that looks suitable and begin to pick through the piles, searching for the highest-quality furs. I even brush them across my breasts to test their softness. The shopkeeper gapes. He’s so distracted by my outfit, he doesn’t even notice the big, scary alpha standing right behind me. If it were Knar, he’d have ripped the guy’s head off by now, but Renn just takes it all in stride.

“Will this cover it?” he asks, handing over the spear.

The guy just blinks up at him like a man waking up from a wet dream.

“Oh, uh… yeah… sure.”

The furs I’ve heaped into Renn’s arms are worth at least two spears, maybe even three, but the shopkeeper doesn’t seem to mind. He’s already too busy checking out my butt, which I’m flaunting at him as we walk away.

“You’re terrible,” Renn says.

I pout. “You don’t mean that.”

“You’re terrible, and I love you for it.”

He drops the furs on the ground and pulls me into him, kissing me hard and deep. I hook one leg around his and kiss him back, not even caring if the whole damn Zone is watching us. I’m growing hot beneath my loincloth, and Renn is growing hard beneath his. I’m just about ready to get down on all fours and let him rut me right there in the middle of the market, when someone nearby growls.

I break our kiss with a gasp, and turn in the direction of the sound.

Knar is standing there watching us. His spear is gone, and in its place he now carries a box full of tools. A handsaw. A few hammers. A whole bunch of nails. Bjor is standing right beside him, shouldering a load of lumber. Together with the furs Renn and I just acquired, we’re going to build a nice big crib for our litter of pups.

Knar’s eyes travel down my body, then back up again, lingering on all the curvy parts.

“Young lady, what do you think you’re wearing?”

“What’s the matter, Daddy?” I ask, giving him a playful little twirl. “Don’t you like it?”

His expression remains stern, but the growing bulge in his loincloth offers a hint about what he’s really thinking.

“Bjor,” he says, “hand me the wood, please. Thank you. Now, kindly pick up our bad little omega.”

Before I even have a chance to protest, Bjor scoops me up in his arms and cradles me against his big, hairy chest. Not that I would protest, of course. Why would I?

“Let’s go,” Knar says, turning in the direction of our tower. “I want to make it home before sundown.”

Renn smirks.

“Omega,” he says, as we start to move. “I think you just earned yourself a spanking.”

I smile up at him sweetly.

“I’m counting on it.”

* * *