Page 56 of Craving Their Omega

Even though I just got off, I still feel so turned on and desperate, and I don’t understand why. Before, it was so hard for me to get in the mood. So hard for this feeling to start in the first place, let alone carry over after I just came.

Is this what people feel like when they’re having good sex regularly? Just horny all the time? I should be sated, or at the very least, satisfied. But here I am, still hungry for more.

I try to push those feelings aside because they don’t really have a place here. This was just supposed to be business. Just supposed to be for the sake of their company and so that I wouldn’t have to deal with the ORD. And now… now my chest feels overfull with everything going on.

There are so many emotions warring for attention, making it hard to focus on or process any of them. There’s the attraction Ifeel for the men, the arousal that won’t die down, and all these other feelings that I wasn’t expecting to have to deal with.

“Okay,” I mutter to myself, clapping my hands together. “Okay, you can’t just stand here feeling like this. You need a task. Do something with your hands.”

The pep talk is a bit silly, but I channel some determination from somewhere and set to reorganizing my room.

Even with the bulk of my stuff here, the room is still too big for me to fill all the way. But that just gives me more space to play with.

I hang all my work clothes in the spacious closet, making sure each piece is hung carefully so they won’t wrinkle. I gather up the clothes that are strewn across the floor from the week and put them in the hamper.

I have the urge to nest for the first time in a while, so I gather the ones from the chair in the corner and pile them up on the side of the bed that’s against the wall, making a sort of cozy barrier. I drape blankets over that, and then add Xavier’s sweatshirt once I change into my pajamas.

It’s nice to have something there that smells like him, and the soft scent spreads through everything, adding to the comfort. There’s so much more space here, so much more room to make things perfect, and there’s a satisfaction in that.

It looks inviting and warm, and it’s… not enough.

The simmering arousal is still there, the fire banked just enough that it’s not driving me crazy, but it’s not like I can ignore it either. Not when every movement just makes the sensitive parts of my body beg for more attention.

I huff in frustration and lie down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

I can hear footsteps on the stairs and the hum of deep voices as the men talk to each other before heading to their separate rooms.

Something about knowing they’re up here with me, just a few feet away down the hall, makes my body ache even more.

Ignoring it didn’t help and neither did trying to distract myself, so I just decide to give in. Maybe it’s okay to think about it. And even if it’s not, my body and mind have clearly made their own choices about it.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. It’s not hard to bring up memories of what happened downstairs, and I shiver a little from the phantom feeling of Dominic’s touch.

He was so sure of himself, so confident. The way he was with everything really. That control and certainty was so hot when coupled with the way he touched me. His hands mapped my body like he wanted to memorize it, and thinking about it makes my own hands follow a similar path, sliding down my body in exploration.

I can feel how hot my skin is through my clothes, and everything feels extra sensitive. I touch my chest, first over the shirt I put on to sleep in and then under, cupping each full, heavy breast in turn. I brush my fingers over my nipples and swallow back a gasp at the electric zing of heat that sends right down between my legs.

What would Dominic’s hands feel like here? With nothing between us?

I bite my lip and then pinch one nipple lightly, arching into the feeling. But Dominic would do it harder, probably. For all he was gentle with me earlier, there was nothing timid about it. He didn’t hold back. I pinch my fingers around the peaked nub harder and gasp at the sensation.

It feels good, better than I would have imagined.

Heat starts to pool even more between my legs, my clit throbbing in time with my heartbeat. It’s needy for attention, so I give in, pushing my hand down into my shorts.

I’m so wet I can smell it, and I can’t tell if it’s lingering from Dominic getting me off downstairs or if it’s new with the way I’m touching myself now.

Either way, it’s more than enough to slick the slide of my finger against my clit as I circle and rub the little button experimentally. Each touch has me writhing on the bed, my breaths coming faster, my body crying out for more.

My soaked core clenches around nothing, and I press two fingers inside, still loose from the way Dominic finger fucked me. My fingers aren’t as thick or as long as his, but it still feels good. It still scratches at least part of the itch.

I can imagine what Dominic’s voice would sound like if he could see me now, the rich, deep tone in my ear.

“Does it feel good? Do you want more?”

I nod, even though no one’s in the room with me, working my fingers in deeper. I pause for a second to work my panties and shorts off, giving myself more access. This way I can fuck myself with my fingers and rub my clit at the same time.

The Dominic in my head urges me on, and something about thinking of him like this makes me wonder what the other two would be like.

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