Page 89 of His Sassy Omega
My hands wrestled with the snap of his jeans in a frenzy, the sound of the zipper sliding down loud in the room, our breath coming harshly. I shoved his jeans down, taking his briefs with them. He wrestled one foot clear of them. It was enough for him to spread his legs, for me to slot into him with a perfect fit.
I pressed my hand to the middle of his back, and bent him forward. Not caring if his face was smashed against the countertop. I slid to my knees, my face mashed up to his ass, and rested my nose against his crease. Breathing him in, drinking in his scent, my mouth watering. I recognized his scent, the sweet smell of cookies, the hint of citrus, the strong smell of cinnamon.
But I smelled more than that, I smelledhim, the undeniable scent ofQuinn. My mate.
I kneaded the mounds of his ass, feeling his muscles flex beneath my hands. I pulled his cheeks apart, exposing his perfect, pink hole to my gaze. I leaned forward until my nose was right against that hole, breathing him in as deep as I could.
“Fuck, Lach!” Quinn’s voice was a half shout, half moan of pure need.
I moved my nose back, my tongue coming out to lap him from his balls to the top of his crack.
“Oh Goddess!” Quinn shouted, his hands scrambling against the slick material of the counter, legs flailing.
“Nope, just me,” I growled. “You’d better hold on, baby, I’m gonna eat you for dinner.”
It was a cheesy line, but I meant every word of it. Food was forgotten. Our dinner I’d sweated over could grow cold and congealed. I didn’t care. I was happy eating Quinn’s ass.
I licked him then, my tongue making short laps around his rim, and Quinn bucked, grabbing on to the counter. Spreading his legs wider, bending at his waist. Shoving his puckered rosebud right against my tongue.
I licked him until he was a moaning, babbling mess. My tongue delving deep into his tight, wet hole. I lapped at him, sucking and slurping and tongue fucking him. Opening him up for me, until his ring of muscles was loose and pliant beneath my ministrations. He was dripping wet, his slick running out of his ass and trickling down the backs of his thighs. My face was covered in his fluids, and I licked my lips, wanting to enjoy every drop of him.
“Lachlan, please, please,” he pleaded, his face turned to the side towards me. He looked disheveled. His russet curls were wild, his alabaster skin glowing with a sheen of sweat, his cheeks flushed rosy, as if he was in the throes of a fever.
I nipped at one round cheek, just enough to leave a little mark. I watched, fascinated, as his skin turned the barest shade of pink where I’d bitten him, and it did something inside of me. Seeing that mark on him,mymark, and I wanted more of it.
Without thought, I raised my hand and brought it smacking down on his ass cheek. Quinn jerked, his body tensing, before he moaned loudly. I watched my handprint bloom on his ass cheek, feeling my cock grow harder as my mark appeared on him.
I rubbed my hand over the print, feeling the heat of it blooming on his skin. Quinn laid lax against the counter, his only movement little jerks of his hips.
“More,” he whispered, pushing his ass a smidgeon closer to my hand.
My head flew up, eyes scanning his face. His eyes were still closed, and he looked debauched and absolutely blissful. He cracked an eye open, and I could barely see the green in them, his pupils were so dilated. “Do it again, Lachlan,” he ordered sharply. “Now.”
I did. Again and again, my hand cracking down on his ass cheeks, until the plump mounds were bright red and burning against my hand. Quinn was a moaning, gyrating mess against the island counter.
I’d never raised a hand to anyone in any of my relationships. Had never even thought about it. Okay, I had thought about it, but I’d never done it. But something had compelled me to smack Quinn’s ass, and when he’d urged me for more, I’d lost myself in it.
“Did I hurt you?” I whispered in his ear, brushing at his curls.
“Mmmmm.” His voice was breathy, dreamy and wistful. “So good. So fucking good. Flying.”
“Good.” I rubbed my still clothed, rock hard cock against his ass, and the heat of my handprints burned me through the fabric.
“Want more. Again,” he mumbled. “So good.” He was repeating himself, and making little sense.
“I’m gonna spank your ass all the time,” I warned him, pushing my slacks and boxer briefs off and kicking them away from my body. “That sassy mouth of yours is going to have my hand on your ass every day.” I stroked my cock, pre-come dripping all over my pristine kitchen floor, and I rubbed it around the sensitive head.
He pushed the ass in question towards me again, and my dick followed like it was a beacon, the tip rubbing at his dripping wetness. I flexed myhips and the thick, mushroom head breached him, sliding right past his first ring of tight muscles, with no resistance.
“Yes,” he hissed, moving back against me and causing me to slide in another inch. I wanted to slam into him, but a part of me held back, knowing my pups were nestled safely inside of him. That thought amped up my desire tenfold, setting off something purely primal inside me. Damn, I had a pregnancy kink where my mate was concerned.
“Gonna be mouthy all the fucking time with you,” he warned.
I slammed into him, not able to help myself. Not with that mouth of his, and buried myself to the hilt, my balls grinding up against his ass. The force of it rocked Quinn forward into the edge of the counter, and a small “oomph” escaped him. I held myself still, breathing hard. The island was fucking hard, and I didn’t want to hurt him or the pups. But this was not going to be a gentle bout of love making.
Reaching blindly behind me, I located a dish towel hanging on the handle of the oven. It wouldn’t be much protection, but it was better than nothing. Quinn was rubbing against me the entire time, writhing like the cat he is, cussing at me tofucking fuck me dammit, howling like he was in distress.
I shoved the towel between him and the counter’s edge, and smacked his ass again. Slick gushed around my cock, so I popped his ass once more. Sure enough, more slick gushed out of him. Words tumbled from his lips, nonsense, gibberish, that made no sense, but I didn’t care.
