Page 76 of Daisy
The image he's painting makes me desperate. Makes me want things I don't even have names for.
"Would you like that, beautiful? Would you let me claim you properly? Knot you, lock you to me, make you mine?"
"Yes," I gasp, lost in the fantasy he's creating. "Please, yes."
"That's my good girl. Keep touching yourself. Don't stop."
I can see he's close, his strokes becoming erratic. His cock is flushed dark red now, veins standing out prominently along thelength. His other hand squeezes his swollen knot, and his whole body shudders at the contact. A bead of moisture leaks from the head, and I find myself wondering what he tastes like.
The thought should shock me. Should make me blush with shame. Instead, it makes me bolder.
"I want to taste you," I blurt out, then immediately flush with embarrassment at my own boldness.
His whole body goes rigid. "Fuck, Daisy. You can't say things like that."
"Why not?" The question comes out breathier than I intended.
"Because I'm barely holding onto my control as it is." His hand moves faster, rougher. "Watching you touch yourself, hearing you say you want to taste me... I'm going to come."
The desperation in his voice makes me feel powerful. Makes me want to push him further over the edge.
"I want to watch you come," I say, my fingers working faster inside myself. "I want to see you lose control because of me."
"Shit, Daisy?—"
"I want to touch you everywhere. Taste you. Feel you inside me." The words tumble out of me, raw and honest and desperate.
"Fuck, I'm—" His head falls back against the wall, every muscle in his body tensing. "I'm coming."
He comes with a strangled groan, his whole body shaking as he spills over his hand and onto the floor. The sight of him losing control because of me, because of my words, pushes me over the edge.
Pleasure crashes through my body in waves, more intense than anything I've ever felt. I cry out softly, my body shaking as the orgasm takes me.
We stand there afterward, both breathing hard, both trembling. The air between us is thick with the scent of sexand satisfaction and something deeper. Something that feels like belonging.
"Come here," Dante says softly, his voice gentle again.
I walk to him on unsteady legs, my body still humming with aftershocks. He's already cleaning himself up with a towel, pulling his clothes back on with careful movements.
When I'm close enough, he cups my face in his hands. His palms are warm and slightly rough, and the tenderness in his touch makes my chest ache.
"You're incredible," he murmurs, pressing his forehead to mine. "Absolutely incredible."
"Was that... was I okay?" The insecurity in my voice surprises me.
"More than okay. Perfect." He kisses my forehead, soft and reverent. "How do you feel?"
I think about it. I should feel embarrassed. Ashamed. I just watched a man pleasure himself while doing the same thing. Good omegas don't do things like that.
But I don't feel like a good omega anymore. I feel like myself. Like Daisy, who wants things and isn't afraid to ask for them.
"Good," I whisper. "Really, really good."
"Good." His thumb strokes across my cheek. "We should probably get back out there before someone comes looking for us."
I nod, even though I don't want this moment to end. Don't want to go back to pretending there isn't this electric connection between us. This thing that makes my body come alive and my heart race.
"Dante?"
