Page 69 of Meadowsweet and Marigold
"Look at you," Meadow breathes, his voice reverent and strained. "So perfect."
She should feel embarrassed, exposed like this in the front seat of his truck, but the hunger in his eyes transforms vulnerability into power.
His gaze rakes over her, taking in every detail of her most intimate self with a thoroughness that makes her squirm. No one has ever looked at her with such raw appreciation before.
His fingers return to her thighs, stroking upward with maddening slowness.
When they finally reach her center, gliding through the slickness there, Marigold's head falls back against the seat, a moan escaping her throat. Meadow makes a sound in response — something between a groan and a growl— that vibrates through her bones.
"You're so wet," he says, the words thick with desire. "So ready for your Alpha, yes?"
“Y-Yes. Please.”
She’s so desperate, trembling in wait for him to make the next move.
One finger circles her entrance, teasing but not entering, gathering her moisture to spread it higher, finding the swollenbud of her clit. The first touch there makes her jerk, the sensation almost too intense.
Meadow immediately eases the pressure, his movements becoming gentler, learning her body's language with the instinctive understanding of an Alpha attuned to his Omega's needs.
"Is this good?" he asks, his voice a rough whisper against her ear.
"Yes," she manages, the word broken by her ragged breath. "Please don't stop."
He establishes a rhythm, slow circles that gradually increase in pressure as her body adjusts to his touch. Each circuit sends sparks shooting up her spine, building a tension in her lower belly that coils tighter with every pass.
Her hips begin to move unconsciously, seeking more, chasing the friction his fingers provide.
Meadow watches her face with rapt attention, cataloging every gasp, every flutter of her eyelids, every parting of her lips.
He's learning her, memorizing the map of her pleasure, adjusting his touch according to the silent feedback her body provides. When her breathing quickens, he slows down, drawing out the sensations, keeping her balanced on the knife-edge of building pleasure.
"Meadow," she pleads, not entirely sure what she's asking for.
"I've got you," he assures her, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Trust me."
Without warning, he shifts in his seat, leaning down, his intention clear.
Before Marigold can process what's happening, he's maneuvering himself awkwardly in the confined space, his broad shoulders wedging between her spread thighs. The firsttouch of his breath against her core sends a violent shudder through her entire body.
"What are you—" she begins, but the question dies on her lips as his tongue replaces his fingers, dragging a long, slow stroke through her folds.
The sensation is so overwhelming that her mind goes momentarily blank, all thoughts scattering like autumn leaves in a gust of wind.
His beard tickles her sensitive skin, adding another layer of sensation to the hot, slick pressure of his mouth. Marigold's hands fly to his hair, whether to push him away or pull him closer, she isn't sure.
Meadow looks up at her from between her thighs, his eyes dark with desire, seeking confirmation.
"Is this okay?" he asks, his voice vibrating against her most sensitive flesh.
"Yes," she gasps, her fingers tightening in his hair. "God, yes."
Permission granted, he returns to his task with a single-minded focus.
His tongue flattens against her, applying broad pressure that makes her thighs tremble. Then he narrows his attention, the tip of his tongue circling her clit with a precision that suggests he's done this before, many times. The thought flares jealousy in her chest, but it's quickly drowned by the building pressure of pleasure.
His hands grip her thighs, holding them apart as he works.
The strength in his fingers, how easily he could bruise her if he weren't so careful, sends a thrill of excitement coursing through her. The power differential between them —Alpha and Omega— has never been so apparent, nor has his restraint in wielding that power.
