Page 32 of Excess

“Maybe this isn’t the best time,” I agreed.

She laughed lightly, careful to hold herself still. “Are you worried I’m going to get attached?”

“No,” I scoffed. There was no possibility of Inika getting attached to me.

She hummed, seemingly never offended by my bluntness. “Well, we could always just keep doing what we’re doing until one of us doesn’t want to do it anymore? My heat is in about a month. I suppose that puts a pretty firm deadline on things.”

The appropriate reaction would have been to politely agree with her suggestion and perhaps offer some sympathy that heats were something she had to go through at all—I knew they weren’t exactly a picnic for omegas.

But that wasn’t the reaction I had.

My cock twitched at the very thought of Inika blind with lust and coated with slick, and that was enough to set her off on another chain of squirming, panting orgasms, undoing any progress my knot had made in deflating as she clenched around me.

“It’s flattering that you find that idea sexy,” Inika laughed breathlessly when she found her voice, her skin glowing with sweat.

“Yeah, let’s never talk about that again,” I muttered, my face burning. That was some embarrassing teenage boy shit. I was a grown man. I should be able to hear the word “heat” without my cock standing obnoxiously at attention.

“Fine, fine, I won’t tease. Clearly, I’m the only one here with a degradation kink.” Inika flashed me a grin over her shoulder, and I almost managed a laugh in response. Almost.

Inika grilled me with a series of questions on plastering that seemed designed to get my knot to deflate faster since I couldn’t think of many unsexier topics that she could have chosen. Was she trying to help me out?

I’d made assumptions about her before I’d even met her, and not one of them had been that the wealthy heiress to Om-Guard would be nice.

I rolled out of bed the moment we could pull apart, heading for the connected bathroom to fetch Inika a wet washcloth and several dry ones for clean up. She had a good sense of humour about it, but knotting was messy work.

“Ms Dara? Ms Dara, are you up here?”

Inika froze, wide-eyed, in the middle of the bed at the sound of the smarmy butler’s voice.

“Here,” I said in a low voice, tossing her the assortment of towels and quickly pulling on my clothes. “I’ll handle it.”

“How?” she asked, not looking particularly reassured.

“Ms Dara!” he called, in a far sharper tone than I was happy with.

Who did this fucking guy think he was?

I shoved my feet into my boots, not bothering with the laces, but making sure my zipper was pulled up and my shirt was on properly at least. As quietly as I could, I pulled the door to the spare bedroom shut behind me before making a show of knocking my tools around a bit as the butler—Graeme, wasn’t it?—rounded the corner, freezing at the sight of me.

“Mr Alwis. My apologies, I didn’t realise you were still here.”

The soundproofing in this place must be off the fucking charts.

“Is that why you’re going around hollering for the lady of the house?” I asked casually, leaning my shoulder against the wall. “I’ve been in many a grand house and never seen them run like this.”

Graeme straightened, his face turning an interesting shade of puce. “How this house is run is none of your concern.”

“Of course not,” I agreed, because it seemed to annoy him even more. “It’s just odd. I suppose I expected a more professional operation, considering the size of the house and the importance of the lady who lives here, that’s all.” I shrugged. “Guess you run things differently around here.”

“Ms Dara has no complaints about how I run this house,” Graeme responded stiffly.

“I doubt she’d tell you if she did. She’s very polite, that Ms Dara.”

“Indeed.” He pursed his lips. “If you’ll excuse me, Mr Alwis.”

I waited until I heard his footsteps get to the bottom of the stairs before opening the guest room door, finding a fully dressed Inika standing there, having clearly washed away any evidence of us with the gallons of Om-Guard body wash she kept in the attached en suite.

The room still smelled like us at least, which was the only thing keeping my irrational annoyance in check. Obviously, Inika couldn’t walk around with my cum dripping down her thighs.

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