Page 37 of The Omega Trials: Part Two

Bishop carries me home on his back.1 I shiver, and he insists I wrap the quilt around myself, which ends up meaning I wrap it around both of us. It reminds me of being a kid pretending to be an adult by stacking on friends’ shoulders and wearing a long coat.

When we enter our common room, I nearly jump off him. I expected Titus and Ecker to be exactly where we left them: alone in their rooms. Instead, two figures greet us in the shadowy, dark room.

Greetedis a bit of an overstatement. Both men are passed out, slumped in an armchair and on the couch. Ecker is shirtless, innothing but a pair of boxers, while Titus still wears the clothes he played soccer in earlier.

“Did they wait up for us?” I ask Bishop once we’re in his room.

He laughs. The sound is husky, warm, and so comforting it makes me want to curl up against him again. I want to freeze time on that blanket under the oak tree.

“Well, I think that was their intention.” He grins while stripping out of his clothes and climbing under the covers of his bed.

When he holds them open for me, I crawl in next to him. “I thought they were mad at me.”

“Oh,pissed,” he agrees with a playful tone. “But I don’t think any of us are capable of staying mad at you for long—or at least, we’ll still want to make sure you get home safe, even if we won’t talk to you when you do.”

I’m not sure if I’m comforted or saddened by his words. I’ve purposefully hurt them in the past, but this isn’t like that. This time,Iwas the one hurt, and still they’re mad atme?

He pulls me into his chest and kisses the top of my head. “Don’t worry about it tonight, just let me hold you.”

When I wake up the next morning, I’m still tangled in his long limbs, cocooned in his body heat. Before I even open my eyes, my senses pick up on his woodsy, leather, and bergamot scent. It warms me to my bones and makes something stir in my stomach.

I drag my palm over his chest and the feel of his skin burns my palm, my thighs squeezing together. My omega nature is back, and goddamn, he feels so good.

Just the feel of his hard body, soft skin, and beating heart has my mind growing hazy. The more I recall the night before, the more I’m especailly overcome by the sense of intimate connection I feel with him. Gratitude for the way he showed me he cared,me,not his omega or his mate.

But now that my nature is back, my insides are squirming with the desire to show him—as his mate—just how grateful I am.

I can tell he’s still asleep by his breathing, so I carefully slink down his body. The sheets are already pulled down to his hips, and I don’t have to go far under the covers as I hover above his legs. Testing, I faintly trail my hands up his thighs. His cock, already half hard, twitches.

My stomach dips with excited nerves as I lightly wrap my hand around the velvety thickness, my thighs slickening at just the feel. My mouth waters, and heat pools between my legs.

With butterflies in my stomach, I dip forward and drag my tongue up the underside of his shaft. My pussy flutters when I can taste myself on him from last night. It makes me burn with the desire to return the favor, double all the pleasure he gave me.

I swirl my tongue over his thick head, and he stirs. His legs shift and a soft puff of air leaves his lips. Giddiness lights up my spine as I try to tease him as long as I can without waking him. When he finally does, I want him to be on a knife’s edge, strung taut and desperate.2

As I slide my mouth down his length, I feel his cock thicken. The deeper I take him, the more ragged his exhales become.

“Ah, there’s my naughty, little mate.” I glance up at his coarse morning voice, and he looks down at me with one eye cracked open and a slight smirk on his lips.

I can’t help but smile, withdrawing to return his crooked grin and lazily swirling my tongue over his tip. I indulge myself in decadently pleasing him, watching his face twist and scrunch with pleasure, dragging my palms up and down his abs to feel them contract and tense.

It’s a high having this formidable alpha weak at my touch.

He gathers my hair in his hands, but strands keep falling down. I don’t mind, but he seems to. Taking the hair tie from his hair, he gently collects mine and wraps the band around it.

“I don’t want anything in the way of this view,” he says at the end of a husky groan. “You’re so beautiful, and the way those sweet lips look wrapped around my cock—Fuuckk. . . choke on it again, Omega. Yeah, just likethat.”

He seems to lose his train of thought as I gag around his head, taking him to the back of my throat again and again. His head digs back into the pillow and a deep, raw moan spills from his chest.

“You’re doing so good, Sin. Now relax for me, baby, and let me fuck your throat.” He grabs the bun he put my hair in to keep my head at the same height then digs his heels into the mattress to thrust up.

He looks down at me with hooded, glowing eyes and bucks his hips up again and again. I feel his slowly building rut trickle down the bond. I ache to rub my thighs together but can’t with how I’m straddling his legs.

“Look at you, getting all hot and wet deep throating your alpha, letting me use you like a fuck doll.” His filthy words only make it worse, and I whimper with both frustration and desire.

He lets out a gravelly chuckle and bounces his right knee. “Why don’t you slide over and ride my leg? I know you want to. You’re always such a desperate little thing.”

I look up at him with eagerness, and he nods then slides my mouth off his dick. As I scoot over to straddle just one leg, he slightly lifts his knee. I rock my pelvis forward to drag my pussy along his thigh, wetting it. Heat rushes through me as I find the right angle to rub my clit through my own arousal.

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