Page 90 of His Sassy Omega
My hands strayed to the roundness of his belly. The skin was tight, and he wasn’t that big yet, but he was starting to show. At least when he’s naked. He’s so damn thin still, but his tight stomach had the slightest roundness to it. I traced down that hard mound, from just beneath his belly button to just above his straining cock. I loved touching him, touching his stomach, and I couldn’t help running my hands over every inch of him I could reach.
I pulled out and flipped him around before he could get a thought to argue in his pretty head. I hoisted him up and plopped him on top of the counter. I spread his legs wide with my hands, knees pressed to his chest, and slid into him before he could take a breath to argue the change in position. I wouldn’t risk hurting him, or our pups, by continuing to pound him into the granite countertop.
Quinn laid back against the coolness of the granite, arms spread as wide as his legs, and I flexed my hips. He moaned, and I shifted my hips a little, changing my angle and he howled. I smiled to myself, knowing I’d hit his sweet spot.
I pounded into him, over and over, slamming into him, almost brutally. The force of my thrusts moved him forward, and I pulled him back with a strong arm. After the third time, I growled in frustration and placed both his legs on my shoulders. I gripped his ass with my hands, holding him in place while I pounded into him, relentless. He shouted senseless words of ‘more’, ‘harder’, ‘fuck, yes, there, right there!’.
Two more strokes and I felt the tingling begin at the base of my spine, my balls drawing up. My knot swelled and caught on his rim. Another push and my knot was fully locked in Quinn. I felt Quinn’s body tense and tighten around me, his hold like a vise on my straining cock. His whole body convulsed, and he almost seemed to stop breathing for a minute, his mouth open in a wordless cry.
His ass gushed copious amounts of slick, and my dick erupted like a volcano inside him. My orgasm was so intense it left me dizzy, my legs feeling like they were made out of jelly. I shot loads of scalding cum into him, both of us shaking with the aftershocks.
Quinn was a boneless heap beneath me, our breathing loud and ragged in the room, as we both tried to remember our names. Our breathing finally quieted and evened out, and I wondered if Quinn had passed out.
I let him be for a minute, while I slowly lowered his legs down and wrapped them around my hips, as we waited for my knot to go down. Quinn moaned quietly, stretching his back as far as he could with us still held locked together.
I nuzzled at his neck, that spot, where I hoped to one day claim him as mine. “You okay?”
A smile ghosted across his face, his eyes still closed. “So good.”
“So, spanking?”
He chuckled, which did nothing to help diminish my knot, as his ass vibrated around me in a delicious way.
“It was so good. I’ve never had that happen. Spanking, I mean. I’ve never been spanked. You are very good at it.”
I felt my face heat in a blush, and I snuggled my head into the crook of his shoulder, to hide my burning face from him. “I’ve never done that before either,” I confessed.
He cracked an eye open at me. “Never?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
He looked at me for what felt like a very long time, but in reality was only a few seconds. “Didyoulike it?”
I swallowed hard, and admitted, “I did. A lot. Does that make me a freak?”
Quinn snorted, and that did all kinds of things to my dick and knot. “Then I’m a freak too. But, no, I don’t subscribe to that rhetoric. If it feels good, who says it’s wrong? All kinds of kinks out there. Don’t know what you like, or don’t like, until you try them.”
My knot had finally shrunk enough for me to slip from his body in a gush of fluids. While my knees wobbled a little, Quinn’s whole body seemed to have become putty. I caught him as he started to slide to the floor, scooping him up in my arms, bridal style. He let me, and just sighed a little, restinghis head against my shoulder. I looked down at him and my chest swelled with the force of the love I felt for this man. My mate.
This man made me laugh, he made me feel, he made me trust in him, and myself. Trust to explore things I’d never felt comfortable admitting to wanting before. To trust to beme, the real me, not the me I thought I had to be. For my family, for my last name, for my business.
I stared down at him, long and lean, pliant, blissed out, and sated. He was beautiful, this prickly, sassy mouthed, independent omega, and he was all mine.
He was nothing I ever thought I’d want, and everything I wanted and needed, like I needed air to breathe.
He nuzzled his cheek against me, murmuring something unintelligible. I was halfway up the stairs with him when his stomach rumbled. Loudly. He seemed to doze through it, but I needed to feed him. He’d had a long busy day, standing on his feet for most of it, and I doubted he’d stopped to eat more than the bare few snacks to keep him going. Though he was getting better about remembering to eat for the twins, even if he had yet to put on much weight.
I deposited him gently on my king-sized bed, and pulled the comforter around him. He snuggled into the pillow, sighing softly. I didn’t bother grabbing a robe, just made my way back downstairs, naked. I never used to wander around my house naked before, but I found it freeing.
My sex life had been fine before meeting Quinn, if a bit boring. None of my previous partners, either male or female, had been into experimenting. I frowned at myself as I made a plate of food from our forgotten dinner, left to grow cold in the dining room.
Was it that my previous partners hadn’t wanted to experiment, or was it that I hadn’t wanted to experiment? Had been afraid to experiment? I once brought it up to Nate, that I’d be into him topping me, and he’d laughedat me, telling me alphas didn’t bottom. I had never ever brought any of my secret desires into any conversation I’d had with a partner after that. I was so afraid of being seen as a freak or pervert, that I never broached the topic. Just had nice, pleasant boring sex.
I pushed my inner monologue aside, as I cut up perfect pieces of medium rare steak, shrimp scampi and plain sweet potato. Because Quinn had been craving sweet potatoes, even if he refused to admit that he was having cravings. He’d ordered them anytime we went out to eat once his morning sickness vanished.
He was lucky in that regard. After the initial bad weekend that was the flu, and his Christmas Eve vomiting, he’d not been plagued by much morning sickness. He still avoided anything with garlic though, just in case. He was perpetually exhausted though, and I worried about that. Along with the hours he put in at the bakery, and being on his feet for long stretches at a time. His feet already seemed to be swelling, and I spent countless minutes rubbing them each day.
I worried, but I tried to voice my concerns so that I didn’t come across as a demanding alpha, who was telling him what to do. I just tried to find ways to get him to work fewer hours, put his feet up, eat and get plenty of rest.
