Page 37 of Want It All
‘Rose. Sweetheart. I fuckingwishI could stay. I wish I could help you. You have no idea how much. The things I want …’He swallowed. ‘But this wasn’t the plan, was it? We’re both operating on instinct. If I come in there …’ He tugged on his hair. ‘Rose, I want to bite you so fucking badly. That isn’t what you want. That isn’t what youneed. You’re here for a degree, not a pack.’
I stared at him, hearing the echo of Chloe’s words – and my own – but there were voices coming from the end of the corridor, and sudden unease made my stomach churn. I knew he was right. I was slicking, my blockers were wearing off, and if I didn’t lock my door soon, someone might find their way in – and it wouldn’t be the person I wanted.
‘Fine,’ I growled, feeling almost as savage as the sound. I turned and slammed my door behind me. My underwear was damp, and my cunt was throbbing, begging to be filled, but I hooked the chain and flicked the deadbolt like Byron had said, then turned the air purifier up to its highest setting. For good measure, I grabbed a clean towel from the bathroom, rolling it up and stuffing it along the base of my door before opening the windows. I wasn’t in heat, so hopefully my scent would dissipate easily in the night air.
I heard athumpfrom the other side of the door; when I checked the camera, I saw that Byron had slumped down against it, his head in his hands. As I watched, he threw his head back, thumping it against the wood.
‘Fuck,’ he swore, his voice somehow deeper over the camera. ‘Fuck.’
I pulled my phone from my pocket and called him.
He picked up immediately. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Do you really want to help me with this?’
He was silent for a moment. ‘I think you know that I do,’ he said at last, his voice low and hoarse.
‘Then go to your room.’
On the camera, he turned and stared at my door, startled. ‘What?’
‘Your room,’ I repeated. ‘Go there. Then call me.’
‘I –’ He swallowed audibly. ‘Okay. Whatever you want.’
I watched him end the call, then get to his feet and walk away. I made my way to my bedroom and opened the drawer in my bedside table.
He’d been right to walk away, but it didn’t mean that nothing could happen.
I could still make both of us feel good.
Gotoyourroom.
No one had said that to me for about fifteen years, but I found myself striding down the corridors regardless. I had no idea what Rose intended, but I’d do whatever she wanted.
My mouth was still full of sweetness; I breathed as lightly as I could, trying to keep what was left of the taste on my tongue. It was sugary, but not sickly; rich, but not overwhelming. An edible scent for sure, which lifted a weight from my heart I hadn’t realised I was carrying.
But I hadn’t caught enough to identify it, and not knowing would drive me insane. My cock was straining against my jeans, my tongue watering at the notion of diving between her legs and lapping at the source. I’d pressed my nose and mouth into my shoulder as I’d carried her, resisting the temptation to bury my face in her neck and breathe her in.
Torture wasn’t fiery pits and pain, I decided. It was carrying an omega close to your chest, her plush thighs hooked over yourforearm, and not being able to dip down and sink your teeth into her soft skin.
‘You are not a good person,’ I muttered to myself. ‘She’s yourfriend. You’re thinking with your knot. You’re –’
My phone buzzed in my pocket; I fished it out.
Are you there yet?
I called her. ‘I’m here. But what –’
‘Do you still want to help me? And to be clear, Byron, I meando you want to help me come?’
My mind blanked.
She waited.
Words. I know words. ‘Yes,’ I choked out. ‘Yes. I want that. Very much.’
‘Thank fuck,’ she sighed, and a moment later, I heard a new sound start through the phone.
