Page 48 of Wicked

I maintain eye contact with him as I crawl backwards and lower my chest onto the bed. I lift my ass higher into the air, wanting him to see that I’m all his. Fear clenches in my chest because this is the furthest away I’ve been from him since he came into the room, and I’m scared he’s going to leave.

He stares at me with a fire in his eyes that quells my fear.

“You’re so beautiful. I’m going to walk around the bed so I can see you from the back, but I’m not going to leave.”

It’s a change to have him comfort me instead of the other way around.

He stands and walks around the bed. I can almost feel his gaze as he takes me in.

I’ve presented for other men before. It was a common request from clients and certainly not outside my comfort zone. But presenting for my mate is an entirely different experience. I feel laid bare and exposed on such a deep level. Again, I worry he’ll leave. Not because I’m not pretty enough or good enough, but because Manny isn’t used to happiness, and I think that’s what this moment could be if he would just allow it to happen. The pairing of two souls who are meant to be together is supposed to be happy, is it not?

The warmth of his hand skims along my ass. The sensation soothes me, but it also increases the ache between my legs.

“Please,” I beg.

His fingers dive between my crease and run along my entrance that is now messy and wet with want.

“Manny, I—”

He finally pushes a finger inside. The intrusion is unexpected and not enough at the same time.

“More!” I demand. Doesn’t he know what heats are? What is he doing?

More fingers enter me and I melt against the mattress with relief. The sensation of fullness is long overdue, and I just lay there for several moments, savoring it. Until it isn’t enough and I rock my hips.

“Manny, please—”

His fingers move within me. Slowly at first, then so rapidly I cry out from the intensity of the sensation. It isn’t possible for a dick to move this fast, and the way he’s jamming his fingertips into my prostate over and over again is almost too much. The pressure builds and builds, until I’m blubbering nonsense, shaking my head because I’m overwhelmed.

Instead of letting up, he grabs my dick and finger fucks me faster, adding another finger until I scream into the mattress, my whole body hurtling over the edge. I come so hard on his fingers, I’m shaking. I expect him to let up, but he continues finger fucking me and stroking my cock. I’m overstimulated, and it almost hurts, but I’m in heat, so my body careens into another orgasm, this one more overpowering than the last.

Again, I expect him to stop, but he doesn’t.

“Manny! Oh, God! Fuck! What are you doing?”

“There’s that dirty mouth of yours,” he says. “I was wondering when I would make you swear.”

He still doesn’t stop.

My hips rock, because now I need to come again, or I need to come still. I’m not sure if I stopped coming. My body is in a heightened state of sensation, and my ass is still spasming around him, my poor cock leaking and hard again in his hand.

“I can’t, Manny. Please.”

He grips my cock and jams his fingers into my prostate until I scream with a mixture of pleasure and agony.

Everything goes black.

17

Manny

Candlewick falls apart in my hands. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed giving omegas pleasure, and those were omegas I didn’t feel an emotional attachment to. Candlewick is mine, and every time his ass squeezes my fingers, a euphoria sweeter than anything I’ve ever felt sings through me.

This happiness is bigger than the necklace around my throat. It’s a connection to a man I desperately want to be with for the rest of my life.

At a certain point, the pleasure is too much and he collapses. That happened in the pits too. It was always the time I switched out my fingers for my dick. If I didn’t have the necklace, I think I’d be nervous to do that with Candlewick. I don’t know if I’ll be able to satisfy him like that. But I do have the necklace.

I’ll have to thank Ken after this is over.

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