Page 63 of Rut Bar

My skin itches with the need to strip out of these too tight clothes and climb in and cover it with my scent.Ourscents.

“Do you like it?” Jamie asks. He steps into the room and reaches out to stroke the canopy fabric, and I wonder if they put it up especially for me. Because omegas like small, tight, safe places during a heat. The netting can be drawn to make the nest cozier.

The idea that they went shopping while thinking about me and what I might like makes my insides feel squishy and fragile. Jamie’s face is carved with lines of longing as he looks between the nest—what I’m guessing is his courtship offering—and me. I can’t bear the thought of him thinking I don’t like it or that I don’t appreciate it. Appreciatehim. It’s not his fault I’m a shitty omega.

I cross the room and reach for him, cupping his square jaw in my hands. His beard stubble scratches me, and I should hate the sensation against my overly sensitive skin. But all I want is to feel the rough slide of it against my inner thighs. My thumbs stroke over his cheeks as I revel in the prickling.

“I don’t like it,” I tell him.

His hazel eyes widen and the skin between his brows pinches.

“I love it,” I rush to tell him so he can stop looking so worried.

Relief makes him sigh, and then he purrs and turns his face into my hand so he can nuzzle it. He cups my hand with his own, his palm dwarfing mine, and holds it there. Not demandingly. Not to pry my hand off his face and move it lower, to where I know he’s desperate for me to touch him. But gently. With reverence, as if something as simple as the touch of my hand on his face brings him such immense pleasure it has to be savored.

Oh, Jamie.

He makes my heart ache. My big, sweet, beautiful alpha. I want to wrap him in bubble wrap and hide him from the world’s endless cruelties. I’ll probably hurt him—I always do even when I don’t mean to—but I’m not strong enough to tell him no. Not when he’s begged so prettily. Not when he’s put together such a beautiful nest for me.

A cramp twists my insides and I take a deep breath to get through the pain of the agonizing emptiness. Each wave of heat delirium will get harder to control, but for now I’m still me, even with these omega urges riding me.

And I want to do things my way.

“Undress for me, alpha.”

ChapterEighteen

VERONICA

Jamie dragsin a shuddering breath and presses a kiss to my palm, then does what I command. I drop my hands to my sides as I watch him disrobe. It’s a simple act I’ve seen a thousand times on stage. But here in this nest inside his house by the beach, it’s intimate. Like it was the very first time when he auditioned. He was all fumbling, trembling hands and clumsy footwork. But I saw his potential. All he needed was molding. A strong but gentle hand to shape him.

Mine.

Jamie drags his shirt up over his chiseled stomach, his muscles flexing as he works it over his head. He drops it to the floor, then kicks off his sandals and shucks out of his shorts. Then he’s bare for me, exactly as I like him. I put my hands on his shoulders and push, and he lets me move him. I guide him to the floor so he’s kneeling. Exactly where I like him.

I run my fingers through his hair and work out a snarl as I pet him. “Undress me, pet.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” His hands tremble as he works my skirt’s zipper down. He shimmies it down my hips and over my ass until it falls to a puddle at my feet. I step out of it and use him for balance when my heels sink into the plush rug that extends from under the bed.

He shoves my shirt up, and I help him. I pull it over my head and shake my hair out, then toss it onto our growing pile. When he gets to my bra, I don’t help him. He fumbles at the hooks for a bit, and I let him work it out until he’s got it undone. My breasts drop as he pulls the lace down my arms and discards it on the floor.

His eyes darken with lust and he moves to palm a breast until I make a noise in the back of my throat. It’s a sound that tells him no. There will be time for him to lavish them with strokes and kisses, and there will be a point where I’ll lose all reason and control and I’ll let him do what he wants with me, but that time isn’t now.

Right now he has only one task, and that’s pleasing me by doing what he’s told.

Jamie ducks his head, his expression sheepish. He hooks his thumbs in my black heat panties. He rolls them down my ass, then groans as the scent of my thick, wet slick fills the room. His face is inches from my pussy as he drags the soaked fabric down my legs. I lean on him again and step out of them.

He struggles with the metal hooks of my garter belt until I take pity on him and show him how they work. It’s that, or risk a rip in my stockings, and the vintage style silk ones are expensive and difficult to find.

Once he’s got all eight hooks undone and there’s nothing to hold them up anymore, the stockings sag down my thighs. He rolls them down along with the belt, and I kick out of my heels so he can bare me completely.

A tiny shiver of a cramp pinches me from the inside and a burst of wetness makes my cunt slippery. A bead of it rolls down my inner thigh. I cup the back of Jamie’s head and bring his face to my juncture. “You know what to do.”

“Yes, Ma'am.”

When his tongue laps at my wet cleft, then slides through my folds and grazes my clit, I sigh and rub against him. “Good boy.”

He licks me until my core clenches and another rush of slick drips down his chin. I’ve barely begun to really enjoy it when the urge to be filled, the incessant need of it, makes me pull away from him.

---