Page 16 of Invade Me

The omega let out a stifled gasp, and I realized that he had come. That fast? Pretty shocking. I certainly wasn’t a master of blowjobs—maybe decent—but to have such an immediate effect?Damien obviously appreciated my foreplay more than I ever dreamed of, and it felt like a small miracle.

"You taste like whipped cream!" I mumbled, a little surprised because it was considered a sign of… something very specific. But since it felt simply impossible, I slid my lips down without paying any more attention to the subject. My eyes landed on his smoothly shaved pink testicles and I gently sucked one and then another into my mouth, trying to simultaneously mumble incoherent praises under my breath about how round and perfectly creamy-pink they were, and how very pleasant they felt in my mouth. It probably sounded comical, but that was very much my goal.

And… indeed, I heard his quiet, melodious giggle. Damien found it amusing—another reason for me to preen a bit. Sure, I hadn’t followed his home-invader scenario to a T, but that hadn’t ruined his mood, and it was a win.

Encouraged, I continued to kiss and lick over his balls, moving lower to his perineum. Damien visibly enjoyed my efforts, panting loudly, and his dick didn't even bend a little. It stood proudly, pointing to the ceiling. And then I just had to see… the place. It was time.

So, I grabbed his hips and flipped him onto his stomach in one swift motion.

Damien let out a muffled squeal that resonated in my nervous system, making me almost feral.

And that was the moment that made me freeze.

Something very unusual caught my attention. But the view was still monochromatic, dammit, and I needed to be sure!

So, I raised myself slightly and reached toward the nightstand, where I saw a small lamp, right next to his glasses. I pressed the button, and the room was flooded with a soft golden light, bringing Damien's body out of the grayness into the vibrancy.

Blinking, I focused my sight. Of course, before I investigated this strange discovery, I couldn't ignore the very impressive sight in front of me. His solid butt was as plump, soft, and smooth as I had imagined. And I've always loved big, juicy butts. It's been a long time since I've seen such a springy, bulging, and round behind on an omega. Perfection!

And then I finally had to face the other thing—there was no way to miss it now… who he really was.

Damien wasn’t your typical omega. He belonged to another subspecies—my subspecies to be exact—just a different subgender.

They were called rose omegas.

Similar to purple alphas, their counterparts—rose omegas had a high percentage of alien DNA, and it showed in their bodies—though not as obviously as it did with purples.

Damien’s intimate entrance was unique, like rose petals softly closed, but now slowly opening, revealing the pink, wet inside as my eyes focused on it.

Wow.I swallowed hard, truly amazed.

His rosy pucker wasn’t the only sign of his heritage. After all, some omegas had a somewhat similar look to their entrances while during their heats—vividly pink and slightly protruding, but there was more to it with Damien.

Around his opening and running up along his spine was a pink line, shaped a bit like the stem of a thorny rose. Like a real stem, it wasn’t perfectly straight but curved gently, bending around his vertebrae and forming little thorn-like protrusions (though they were flat like tattoos, not actual bumpy thorns). The closest thing I could compare it to was a pink lightning bolt etched into his skin, like a streak cutting through a stormy sky. This pink "stem"—or lightning bolt, depending on how you saw it—continued up to his shoulder blades, where it spread out intohundreds of thin lines, disappearing like branches of lightning (or roots, if you prefer), sinking into his skin and fading away.

From what I’d read, not every rose omega had the same lines. The patterns could vary—some covered the entire back like winding vines, others had sharper contours, and some had smoother, wavy lines. It seemed to be unique to each individual, like frost patterns on glass—never the same, always one of a kind.

Yes, I stared. I’d never been with a rose omega before, even though I knew that only among them could I find my perfect mate. But of course, meeting a rose omega didn’t mean he’d automatically be my match. They were rare, but not that rare, making up around 1.5% of all omegas—a percentage similar to purple alphas. Still, there were thousands of them out there, especially in big cities. Meeting my fated mate among them would be like finding a needle in a haystack.

There was a prolonged silence in the room as I attentively studied his body. Damien tilted his head forcefully to the side so he could look back at me and gauge my reaction. Our eyes met, and for a moment, we just stared at each other, my breathing halted.

Should I even react at all? He hadn’t mentioned it in his script, so he probably wanted me to continue like nothing had happened, right? I had already changed enough of his scenario, so making it worse by commenting on his rose omega nature would just be insolent. I was pretty sure he didn’t want to be fetishized or for it to become the focal point of our meeting, for the same reason I hated when my purple nature wasthebig thing.

Swallowing hard, I pulled myself out of the shock and decided to play along with the home invasion story, making sure not to give him any more hints that this was quite a surprise forme. In fact, I resolved to ignore it completely, treating him like any other omega.

"Fuck! You have an awesome ass, oh man, I guess it should be me paying you for this service, not you—paying me! That's a little unfair, a butt like that is a godly asset!"

And… yes, here I came full circle again, violating his scenario script even more.

Damien specifically had expressed in his list of expectations that he didn’t want off-scenario conversations, it wasn’t like with the ‘dog-man’, who didn’t mind. His scenario was meant to feel real: a real assault.

However, the funny thing was… at that point, I didn't even care. I knew he wanted to hear compliments more than anything—possibly because he was insecure about himself, self-conscious about his looks. To make those praises convincing, they had to be genuine, real-life observations. I had this feeling he’d know if I was lying, just like I could sense, in this strange way, what he thought of the situation.

The nervousness mixed with excitement filled him—it was so thick, so palpable that it seemed to hang in the air around me, like a mental mist enveloping the room.

But he also wanted me to proceed, so with sincere passion, I placed my hands on his buttocks, wiggling and squeezing both of his plump cheeks. I began to play with them, patting, kneading, and still murmuring cringeworthy praises: "What a glorious ass! I'm going to cover it with hickeys and suck on those succulent, juicy globes!"

And again, I wasn't lying—I was mesmerized by his sweet roundness, enamored with it. I leaned in, nibbling on his satin skin with my mouth, sucking, and lightly biting. "My fudgy-pudgy omega…" I babbled nonsensically.

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