Page 25 of Overeager
“Was I? Too harsh? I think I was.”
Deadly didn’t answer. That was because she was a stone-cold bitch when it came to romantic entanglements. Also, she was a cat, and she couldn’t speak.
“I was, wasn’t I? I should have—should have talked him through it more.”
The way you talked him through putting his dick inside you?
And just like that, Eli was wet. It was ridiculous. All it took was the mere thought of his night with Noah and he was practically dripping. He was so fuckinghornylately.
It wasn’t a problem he was used to having. He liked sex fine, but he didn’t go craving it twenty-four seven. But ever since that night …
And god, when Noah had scent marked him in the classroom. It had been the most innocuous scent marking he could have done, and it had still had Eli walking around fighting a boner all day, battling to keep his stupid pheromones in check. And then when he’d gotten home, he’d jerked off like a sex-addled fiend, and itstillhadn’t been enough.
He should have been strong. Should have showered off Noah’s pheromones as soon as he’d gotten home. But he’d slept with them still on him, sniffing at his wrist throughout the night like a fucking lunatic.
It wasn’t just that Noah smelled good—but god, did he ever. It was also that his pheromones brought Eli right back to that night. To drowning in them while Noah covered his body with his, rocking into him and looking at Eli like he’d just unlocked the mysteries of the universe for him.
It was just because you were his first. He’d be like that with anyone.
But then what was Eli’s excuse?
It hadn’t been his first, or second, or thirtieth time. And yet he was fixated on it like he wasn’t a thirty-four-year-old divorcé with a decade of marriage under his belt.
Either way, thinking about it wasn’t helping. Eli was leaking slick already, and at this rate, he’d have to change his underwear before the night was through.
He turned shamefully away from Deadly’s judgmental stare, setting his full glass of wine down and heading to the bedroom before opening the rarely used lower drawer of his bedside table.
It was a pretty sad collection staring back at him, frankly. A dildo with an inflatable knot he never, ever used outside of heats because it kind of scared him. And a small plug he’d bought after the separation from Richard, when he’d thought he might have some sort of sexual renaissance where he’d start using toys or whatever.
Mostly he just jerked off every now and then. Sometimes he was daring and fingered himself.
But now Eli bit at his lip, studying the plug. It would feel good to be full again, wouldn’t it? Maybe he’d stop thinking about Noah so much if he could just have one little orgasm where he was properly filled. Properlysatisfied.
But that plug isn’t going to whisper how good you feel. It won’t fill you so full that every little movement brushes your prostate. It won’t smell like him or feel like him or moan all deep and sexy like he does.
God fucking damn it.
Eli picked up the dildo and the little remote control for its knot, staring at it. Maybe that would be enough. He’d guzzle his glass of wine, take a bubble bath (did he evenownbubble bath?), and then fuck himself silly until he stopped thinking about alphas altogether.
He should have let Noah knot him.
Fuck. No. No knotting.
His phone buzzed.
Eli yelped, dropping the dildo onto his bed.
Faith was calling. He could ignore it, but if he didn’t pick up, she’d just keep at it. She knew he didn’t have anything else to do on a Friday night.
He accepted the call. “Heyyy.” Super cool. Super casual.
Did he sound all weird and breathy to her or was that just in his head?
“What’re you doing right now?”
“What?” Eli squeaked, covering the dildo with his comforter, as if Faith could see it over the phone. “Me? Nothing?”
“Okayyyy,” she drawled skeptically. “Then what are your plans tonight?”
