Page 138 of Captive Omega

Why is his rumbling voice like waves crashing into rocks so fucking hot?

Vaughn’s fingers go on another slow journey down my bare arm, brushing my hip.

I’m angling my head up as he lowers his, and as we kiss, his hand strokes down, cups my ass and holds me flush against him as he rubs his cock between my thighs.

There’s no silencing my moan from that delicious friction.

A heartbeat later, there’s that creak again.

Garrison is still on the phone. Still listening. Still… restless from that leather squeaking.

Vaughn’s mouth crashes on mine in a deeper, wetter kiss as I wind my arms around him, our tongues dueling, lips hungry. The taste of him overwhelms all the reason in my mind that warns me nothing good can come from letting things go any further than they have.

I don’t realize I’m moving until the backs of my thighs hit something cold. Hard. Leather? I break the kiss.

He winks at me. “Didn’t want to wait any longer.”

I turn around, taking in his drum seat as he urges me down onto it.

As promised, he drops to his knees in front of me.

“You can’t be serious,” I breathe, making no move to actually stop him. And I am positive Garrison is still on the other end of the phone that Vaughn set aside.

“Me on my knees.” Vaughn grips my thighs, pressing them apart. “These open.” He rolls the fabric of my skirt up my bare legs as his gaze dips. “And hands in my hair. You have permission to yank if I’m not doing enough to please you.”

My breath is in my throat. Stuck there. Absolutely refuses to go any further as Vaughn’s head lowers and his lips touch my inner right knee.

“Vaughn,” I whisper.

I should not be letting him do this to me.

Deliciously slowly, his hands stroke up, palms brushing fabric aside, and lips trailing after.

He presses a hot kiss through my panties. My hands are in his hair. Tight. Not dragging him away or moving him closer. Yet. I want to see what he will do next.

He walks his fingers up my outer thighs, and I nearly laugh when his fingers tighten. He pulls. My ass slides forward across the hot, black leather and he drags his tongue over my pussy.

“Oh, God.” I pant. “Do that again.”

He’s smiling as he drops another kiss on me right over my panties as a gruff voice, hoarse and a little pained, demands, “Do what again?”

My eyes fly to the phone on the floor as Vaughn nudges the edge of my panties aside and his tongue flicks.

My fingers clamp in his hair, my hips roll, and I moan. “Oh.”

All thoughts about phones, about eavesdropping alphas, and about how Vaughn eating me out on his drums is something I should not be letting happen go out of my mind.

I simply let myself feel.

“You taste,” Vaughn’s tongue drags over me, and I whimper, “like sweet ambrosia, wild honey and so fucking perfect, you are making me want to feast.”

I angle my head up, eyes fluttering closed, soaking in pleasure.

Some soft, unidentifiable sound reminds me of the phone. Of the alpha listening. Of the creak of leather as he moves about in his chair. What is he doing? Is he listening with the phone clamped to his ear? Or has he put his phone on loudspeaker to do… other things?

My mind flashes back to the dream I had of him and the reason I couldn’t look him in the eye during breakfast.

“Do you know, bloodthirsty omega, that you have an alpha listening to those delicious moans with one hand on the phone, and another around his cock wishing he had his tongue where I have it?” Vaughn murmurs his soft question over my core, his breath hot.

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