Page 75 of His Innocent Omega
This wasn’t a pose we had done that first night together, and I wondered if Wyatt had been practicing it. Is this what he did on the nights we didn’t spend together wrapped around one another? Did he pose in front of a mirror on the floor in one of our bedrooms, moving this way and that, until he had mastered submissive poses? The ease with which he fell into the stance, moving his body, was mesmerizing to watch.
“You’re late,” I kept my voice soft and low, not wanting our conversation to be overheard by all the prying eyes and ears. Sure, some people would no doubt use their shifter hearing to listen in and get the full effect of our scene, but I wasn’t going to make it that easy on them.
Partaking in public displays wasn't at the top of my list of favorite kinks, but I wasn’t doing this for me. This was for Wyatt, and I would do anything to make him happy. He deserved to have all his wishes and fantasies come true, and I planned to make as many happen for him as I could.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” his voice was soft, barely above a whisper, his eyes downcast, not meeting mine. I hadn’t missed the defiant little gleam in those eyes, as he had crawled on the floor towards me, head held high and directly holding my gaze. Oh, he had known well enough he was breaking the rules of submission with that little display. He had looked so glorious doing it, I was willing to overlook it this time.
I also knew what time he had dropped Julianna off, and what time he had pulled into the parking lot of Playgrounds. Dax, the bouncer, had been on the lookout for his vehicle and shot me a heads-up text. I would bet money Wyatt had deliberately been late on purpose. It was only a few minutes, something he could easily brush off to traffic, or some other excuse. It might have worked had I not been prepared and didn’t know how much my little sub liked a good punishment. I had chosen the purple bracelet on purpose to throw him off what I really had planned for him by way of a punishment.
“You’ll be punished for your tardiness.” Idly, I smoothed a wrinkle from my black suit pants, then tugged at the cuff of my white dress shirt. I hadn’t missed the widening of Wyatt’s eyes when he had seen me sitting here, dressed impeccably in a dark tailored suit, pristine white shirt, and bright red tie around my neck. It had only seemed appropriate to drag this tie–the same one I had bound his wrists together with a year ago–out of retirement.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Come here.”
He raised his head when I snapped my fingers, indicating the spot in front of my spread thighs. There was enough room between the table and the booth for him to fit. I had pushed the table back a couple of extra inches just to be sure.
He crawled forward haltingly on his knees, until he was at the exact spot I had indicated, immediately moving back into display pose. My dick throbbed inside my pants, tenting the material at how absolutely fucking perfect Wyatt was.
“You’re going to warm my cock for me while I finish my drink,” I informed him, deftly undoing my belt. He didn’t move his head to watch my movements, didn’t move one single muscle, as I unbuttoned then slid the zipper down ever so slowly. The sound was loud in our darkened corner, where I could almost forget that we were in the main part of the club, eyes watching us.
Some more experienced Doms had already lost interest, turning back to their own subs and conversations with their friends. But there were plenty of fresh, eager pups and voyeurs who were observing with bated breath.
Spreading the material of my pants, I pulled the hard length of my cock out. Precum had pooled at the tip, waiting for an eager tongue to lap it up.
“Come here,” I snapped, sounding harsh even though I wanted nothing more than to pick him up and cover him from prying eyes. If he only knew how much it was killing me to have all these eyes watching us. Watching him. My wolf was clawing at the back of my throat, a snarl waiting to erupt for anyone who dared move an inch towards our mate.
Wyatt shuffled forward, moving his head just enough that I could see his face. His gorgeous, blissed out face. His pupils were blown, dark pinpricks clouding the color of his eyes. His pink lips were parted, the tip of his tongue poking out in anticipation. His cheeks rosy, his pale skin flushed with heat.
His slick clung thick and heavy in the air around us, the blackberry scent perfuming the room. Everyone near would be able tosmell him. The red bracelet around his wrist told the club floor he was off limits. And the I-dare-you-to-fuck-with-me look on my face would be a strong deterrent if anyone had the not so bright idea of trying to push their luck with me and approach my mate.
Still, I was thankful that we were doing this in Jamie’s club, where I was well known to the staff. Being the sheriff didn’t hurt either, as I was sure there were more than one or two patrons who recognized me.
“Be a good little cock warmer, slut.”
Wyatt’s eyes flared, his breathing shallow and fast, as he took a panting breath and opened his mouth wide. Lowering his head, his warm, wet, hot mouth surrounded the head of my cock and I hissed in a sharp breath as pleasure raced through me. His tongue lapped at the drop of precum, and I tangled my hands in the short hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him off my cock sharply.
“This isn’t a blow job, slut. No sucking. No licking. You just hold my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours and keep it warm for me. Understand?”
He blinked his eyes at me one time to show his understanding, making no effort to break the brutal hold I had on his hair and neck.
“Good. This is punishment, not pleasure,” I informed him, releasing my grip on his head. “You don’t get to enjoy my cock. And when I finish my drink, I’m going to fuck that pretty hole of yours, here, in front of anyone who wants to watch. And you’re going to be a good boy and take it, aren’t you?”
His answer was a sharp gasp, a moaned acceptance. His thighs squeezed together, and the sweet scent of blackberries hung heavier around us. “Back to it.”
Nudging him down by his shoulder, he easily fell back into position, his greedy mouth surrounding my cock with wet heat. Sipping my drink was a slow form of torture. Why had I thought I would be able to sit here, with Wyatt’s mouth cradling my dick inside, without slowly losing my mind?
I was aware of everything he did, every twitch of his muscles, every swallow. He was perfect, not using his tongue or mouth for anything but holding my cock in it. And the sight of him! Sitting on his knees, perfect ass resting on the backs of his calves, eyes closed, his face one of absolute relaxation. The sight of my cock disappearing into his mouth nearly had me spilling down his throat without him putting any effort into it.
Finally, I had had enough of this game of pretending to drink the overpriced alcohol that I was barely even sipping. I had noticed Finn and Wade from across the room, moving through the club on their way to a private room. Finn’s eyes had briefly held my gaze, then he’d given a quick nod of acknowledgement and hurried Wade past us.
I was thankful the other Dom hadn’t stopped to have a chat, because it was taking all my concentration not to come inside Wyatt’s waiting mouth, and I was sure I wouldn’t have been able to form a coherent sentence. I was glad Wyatt hadn’t seen them, because that could have been extremely awkward.
Wyatt looked completely relaxed, his body unmoving, his muscles lax. I was glad one of us was relaxed. I was about to lose my mind with need.
Tapping him on the shoulder, I got his attention. He blinked sleepy eyes at me, but he didn’t let go of my dick in his mouth. “Enough. Come here.”
He gave my dick a quick suck, the imp, and I shuddered beneath his touch. Grabbing him by his armpits, I hauled himup my body, slamming my mouth over his. My tongue ravished him, until we were both panting harshly with need, his nearly naked body writhing against mine restlessly. He was practically humping my leg, his slick ass leaving a wet spot on the thigh of my pants.
