Page 74 of His Innocent Omega
“The purple one is for spanking. You like spanking and want it. The pink one indicates you are a sub, and the camo one tells everyone you are role playing, or open to role playing. That any scene with your Dom is consensual. Unless you safe word out, of course.”
“But the red claims me as taken so the rest seem unnecessary.” My brain was online enough that my logic kicked in.
She shrugged, her hand hovering over the keycode pad of the door. “I stopped trying to figure out Dom’s minds a long time ago. I just go with however they want to identify their subs. Maybe he wants to make sure that everyone knows whatever you might be doing you are okay with it. Hard to fucking tell, especially with Becks. I could faster figure out a brick wall than that man.”
Her explanation of the bracelets told me several things about what was waiting for me, whether she realized it or not. That we wouldn’t be in one of the private rooms the club had. That we would be doing this scene out in public view of anyone who might be there tonight. Even though it was relatively early for a Friday night, the parking lot was full.
Imagining all the eyes that would be on me, watching me, had my dick jerking against the mesh it was trapped in. The wet spot on the front spread, as did the trail of slick sliding down from crease of my ass. Desire swirled low in my stomach, and my nipples hardened as if invisible fingers had tugged on them.
Finally, after what felt like forever, she punched in the code and the door clicked open.
“Go straight. Past the bar and then to your left. You’ll find him in the back booth waiting for you. Have fun.” She waggled her eyebrows in a not very professional manner, but one that putme at ease, before leaving me to return to her watch behind the desk.
Swallowing hard, I ran my hands down my slightly sweaty chest. My fingers were trembling. With need, anticipation, or excitement? A combination of all three?
Taking a deep breath, I stood to my full height and stepped into the heart of the club.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Becks
Nursing the double shot of whiskey in front of me, I spun the heavy glass, keeping one eye on the clock on my phone. Jamie had texted when Wyatt had dropped the baby off with them, so I had a decent estimate of when Wyatt would be arriving.
He was now two minutes late, and I smiled as I took a sip of the expensive liquor, feeling it burn its way down my throat, warming me. It was only the second sip I had taken, not wanting my senses to be dulled, but needing something to occupy my hands while I waited for my sub to arrive.
If all went according to my plan, we’d be crossing a few more items off Wyatt’s little sex list. Hecracked me up, the way he was always adding things to it. I had no idea where he got some of his ideas from, but I was eager and willing to help him try them all.
Even if it took the rest of our lives to work through his never-ending list.
I was tucked into a circular booth in a darkened corner. Jamie had put a reserved sign on it and had draped the table part of the booth with a long, black cloth, like I had asked him to. Thank the Goddess he hadn’t asked too many questions, and he was professional enough to keep what happened in his club to himself. Oh, I figured at one point I would get some good-natured teasing from him, but I could handle it. So long as he didn’t embarrass Wyatt, we’d be good.
I caught Wyatt’s scent before I saw him. Sweet blackberries tickled my nose, mixed with the dark musk of his slick. Like it always did, his scent had my cock hard in seconds.
Glancing up from the amber liquid I had been staring intently into, my breath caught at the sight of him walking gracefully towards me. He was all long, pale limbs, holding his head high on that slender neck of his. The red mesh jock gleamed against his light skin, his long, thin dick just poking out the top if you looked closely enough.
And there were plenty of alphas looking closely enough. A growl started low in the back of my throat, a snarl filling the air around me. Wyatt brought one graceful hand up and brushed the curls off his forehead. The low overhead light caught on the bracelets adorning his slender wrist. The red one stood out starkly, and most of the curious eyes turned away and went back to their conversation and drinks.
He belonged to someone and they now knew it.
Holding up a hand when he was a few feet away from thebooth, I quietly ordered, “Stop.”
He did, his hands falling to his sides primly as he lowered his head and kept his gaze downward, on the floor.
“Crawl to me.”
I barely got those words out, as they weren’t something I would ever normally command him to do. Especially on the hard floor of the club, without kneepads of some kind for protection. And I didn’t care how clean Jamie kept this place this floor was a high traffic area, and I was astonished Wyatt had wanted to explore this particular thing. But it was on his list, and I was determined to give him what he wanted.
He dropped to his knees in a move so smooth, so fucking perfect. My cock jerked and I had to hide my smile of pleasure. Wyatt just naturally took to being a sub like he had been trained for it and had been practicing for years.
Without taking my eyes off the breathtaking sight he made, from my peripheral vision I saw several of the people in the club stop their conversations to turn and pay attention to the show we were about to put on. Both alphas and omegas were watching us with wide eyed interest.
I didn’t blame them. Had I been sitting at the bar enjoying a drink, I would have been watching this beautiful omega with his alpha too.
Wyatt crawled towards me, slowly moving inch by inch. I watched his face like a hawk for one flick of discomfort, ready to stop the scene in a heartbeat. His face reflected peace, his gaze dreamy, his pupils nearly blown. He was enjoying every second of this, already close to–if not already there–being in subspace.
Wyatt didn’t just crawl. The way his limbs moved was a dance of sensuality. His back arched, his elongated neck held his head high as he met my gaze straight on, never wavering. The perky,perfect globes of his naked ass, save for the thin string at his hips that disappeared into his crack, bounced with a natural jiggle. I could see the silky heart resting exquisitely at the top of his crack.
When he finally reached me, agonizingly long seconds that felt like hours later, he immediately went into a kneeling position, on display. His back was straight, his weight balanced expertly between his hips. His knees bent, and his legs were spread the correct amount of shoulder length apart. Affording me a perfect view of his lovely cock, the hardness of it pushing insistently against the fabric trying to valiantly contain him. Precum had already dampened it, the wet spot glistened whenever the low lights of the club would catch on it. His palms faced upwards, resting on his slender thighs.
