Page 41 of Knot Their Opening Act

Well. We neverhadNyah. But she had us.

It’s okay. You can go,I say to my Alpha.It’s been awhile. And she’s not our Omega. But she’s an Omega in need. And she’s treating me with more respect and kindness than I could possibly deserve.

And so, my Alpha takes off.

I stand up and carry Jez toward the bed, her legs locked behind my back. She shakes her head though and throws an arm out to point to the far corner of the room, and I chuckle throatily into her hair.

She was ready. Not for me, per se, but ready for something.

On the far side of the bed she’s taken spare blankets and every pillow, possibly ordered more in, and made a makeshift nest. It’s all hemmed in with pillows and cushions form the arm chair in the corner. A large fleece blanket is thrown in there, and there are even a few battery-powered candles which I’m guessing she travels with, flickering on the floor. It’s as cozy as you can get, in a characterless, sterile hotel room.

“Oh, well done, Jez. This is the spot.” I kick off my sneakers then lower her small frame to the middle of the blanket nest.

“How do you want to do this” I say softly, leaning her back with my palms covering her breasts. Her nipples pierce the middle of my hands as she sprawls on the floor. Her sapphire hair spills all around her, and her fringe falls back from her forehead. The heat spilling off her in waves mixes with mine, and the dark dampness all across the front of my shorts reminds me that she’s been dealing with this for at least a full day now.

She shouldn’t wait much longer.

“Fast, and frantic, or do you want it slow and measured?” I whisper into her ear, as I prop myself on all fours over her. She raises a knee slightly to rub against my cock, pressing out without shame against my shorts now.

“Fast. Hard. Knot.Now.”

Damn. Once the talking stopped, her Omega took over. Okay, then.

“I may be a bit rusty, but I’ll do my best.”

She smiles up at me and I lean back, flinging my t-shirt off over my head, stepping out of my shorts and boxer briefs. Socks come off last.

I run my hand down my cock, already nice and wet with pre-cum. “Remember, this is about you, Jez. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Her hands reach up for my cock and, my God, she takes it between both hands like she’s praying. Her tiny little hands, hot and slender, long nails painted black, encircling my cock—it’s the most fucking hot sight I’ve seen in a long, long time.

Still, I take them in mine and slide them gently off and away, then press them to her sides and lower my mouth to her left breast.

I suckle the nipple into my mouth, painting circles around the areola and coming to life in the symphony of her sighs and groans of pleasure that my tongue elicits.

“Holden,” is all she says, her eyes squeezed shut and her closed lids quivering. The pleasure written there is like starlight, like gold dust, and I will do anything to keep it there for as long as possible.

After attending to her breast, her back arching and pressing it further into my mouth, I straight-up suck the tip in as far as I can. Meanwhile my other hand dips its fingers inside her wet entrance, and drags those one at a time up her belly and back down, circling her navel and then finding her clit.

It’s as much like a choreographed dance as I can do. I’ve never been good at anything on stage apart from sitting behind the drums and bashing away. I can go at the drums for hours on end; I could never be the front man dancing and singing and playing before the crowds.

When I dance, it’s like this, and only for one.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen an Omega so wet before. Between the situation on the climbing wall and the slick pooling on the blankets underneath, this Omega has been in need for a long while I feel like.

“God, you’re so unbelievably hot,” I say between mouthfuls of luscious breast. “I want to do whatever you need. I want you to feel completely, utterly adored. Worshipped. The way you deserve. And last but not least—” I pause, leaning over her other breast. I dip my lips to the hardened bud of her nipple and suck it in, circling it with my tongue and suckling like it’s all the sustenance I’ll ever need. “Safe,” I finish, around the erect tip in my mouth. “You should always be safe. And should you need any of us again, don’t hesitate to ask.”

As I pull away, my mouth woefully empty without any of her glorious breast in it, my eyes flick to her glistening folds. I plant my hands on either side of her hips, then exchange a glance with her. Her pink lips are open slightly and she nods, sweat beating on her forehead. Then, without another word, I bury my tongue between her legs.

Without any warning, her tasteexplodesinto me.

Yes, I have been on suppressants since Nyah disappeared and we all agreed it was best. I never went off them, not even between tours. I didn’t want to think of my role as Alpha again, not for a long time.

But this taste, this sensation, it’s like a lightning strike to my heart, my loins, my lungs, and my mind. This Omega tastes like springtime. Like the world awakening, like spring flowers coming to life after a cold winter.

Or maybe that’s me. Coming back to life.

Coming back to awareness. Because I don’t need to be suppressant-free if the match of my dreams is spread out before me. I know it, like I know my own heartbeat.

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