Page 61 of Scent of Home

“Erin. My beautiful alpha,” Locke murmurs, and one hand slides down to my ass, squeezing the flesh and making me moan, while the other holds me to him.

“Locke,” I murmur and lick his shoulder. My teeth suddenly ache, my mouth waters, and I want nothing more than to sink my teeth into his shoulder.

To mark him. Claim him. Bond him.

Vanilla circles around us, and my omega lets out a whine. Slick squirts out of his cock and runs down over my hand. I jack him off, spreading the slick. It’s messy, it’s erotic, I love it.

This is what I’ve waited my whole life for.

He sucks in air and thrusts helplessly into my fist. “So perfect. So fucking beautiful. Erin, you feel so good.”

“Lay down,” I whisper.

I back away, and just putting that much space between us is hard. He slips into the cabin and lays down on the couch. I’m on him in a second, tailing kisses down his chest, sucking his nipples and flicking my tongue over them.

His cock pulses against my leg, his slick runs down my inner thigh. I can’t think properly. All I can do is smell vanilla. I slide down his body, tracing his beautiful golden abs with my tongue. I suck his cock into my mouth, sucking hard as vanilla-flavoured slick squirts into me, and he arches and cries out.

Locke’s whines, moans, and cries edge me on. I keep up a torrent of torture, licking and sucking until he grips my head, holding me in place and surges up into me.

Sweet addictive release spills into my mouth, and I swallow mouthful after mouthful. My stomach heats, my body feels languid, and yet, I’m on fire. I climb up him, dragging my face over his chest, rubbing, scent marking my claim. When I get into position, I grind myself down on him.

He moans, his head falling back.

With a slow twist of my hips, the tip of his cock slides into me. He tenses, breathing hard.

Panic. He’s scared. What the fuck-

It’s gone in a second. His fingers grip my hips and try to pull me down.

“Alpha, lock me!”

My eyes flare, and everything inside me roars to life. Mine. I’ve locked someone before, once. It was the best sex of my life, even if the person ended up freaking out and ruining the experience. I’ve never felt anything like it. However, screaming beta aside, I did not want to repeat the experience. This omega knows what’s coming. He won’t freak out. He can handle all of me.

“Locke-”

“Erin, I need your fucking lock. Give it to me!” Locke snarls up at me.

I sink down onto his cock. Over and over, I ride him, watching his face, checking for that fear I thought I saw. I stroke my hands over his chest and shoulders, dragging my purple nails over his skin until goosebumps break out.

He comes three times, until his slick has soaked the couch beneath us. My pride won’t allow me to care. He looks so fucking hot as I bring him undone. I make sure he enjoys it. I ensure he’s fully sated.

My omega. I’ll take care of him.

“Erin, please!” Locke screams hoarsely.

He growls suddenly, his eyes getting bright. Vanilla explodes, rich and potent, and he flips us. I land heavily on my back on the floor, but I don’t get a moment to think. He hammers into me, driving his cock in deeper. I moan and adjust my legs, only for him to pull out, grip my legs, and push them up over his shoulders and sink back into me. I can barely move.

He’s my omega, but he’s physically stronger than me. Our power balance is perfect.

“My alpha,” Locke growls darkly. His words are barely understandable.

He leans down and kisses me hard and while his fingers find my hard, aching nipple and squeeze until I cry out.

The pressure keeps growing, an unstoppable force. Locke looks unhinged as he slams into me over and over. His teeth are clenched and bared, his eyes slits of glowing light. Locke growls and leans down. My eyes widen as he bites my shoulder, the pain turning to a white fire inside me.

I scream, the sudden pain and the driving pleasure twist and push me over the edge. My lock engages, clamping on the omega’s cock, holding him deep inside me, clenching and milking him as he silently screams as his orgasm is drawn out over and over. My teeth find his upper arm, and I taste blood.

I can barely think, all I can do is suffer as orgasm after orgasm tears through us. The world is Locke, his taste, his scent, his body. I scream until my voice goes hoarse, distantly aware of his muffled sobs.

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