Page 18 of A Real Alpha
Oscar was back.
Finally.
I stilled as best I could, listening for any sounds from Roscoe, but all I heard was Oscar creeping through the living room, probably to set him down to sleep. Ihopedwith everything in me that he was asleep because I couldn't hold out for much longer.
I was lying in Oscar’s bed, surrounded by his scent while trying desperately to keep the pain of ignored arousal at bay. And failing miserably. My own hands were useless. I needed an alpha. I neededOscar.
In fact, the idea of anyone but him touching me nearly made me want to cry. I'd never felt that way before during a heat. Normally, any alpha would do, but I had no doubt that I would fight off anyone else who tried to touch me.
Trembling, I reached between my legs, stroking my slick hole and hoping he would scent me. I waited... but nothing happened. The bedroom door didn't open. Oscar didn't come to my rescue. He was too much of a gentleman and I’d made it too clear that I didn't want his affection from the start.
I swallowed, squeezing my eyes shut. I could barely think straight. Another hour and I would be delirious. There was no time to waste.
But I could barely move, and I couldn't get to my feet. Even sitting up proved to be a struggle, but I managed to do it, bracing on my hands and wincing at the feeling of the cushions pushing up against my swollen hole.
“Oscar!” I called.
My voice sounded strained even to my own ears and weak enough that there was a chance that Roscoe didn't even hear it. For a moment there was no response and tears of frustration filled my eyes. I needed him but I couldn't go get him.
Then, to my relief, there was the sound of footsteps quietly approaching followed by a gentle knock on the door.
“I'm here,” Oscar said from outside and even just his voice made some of the pain uncoil in my body.
“Open the door,” I whispered.
There was another long pause and then, he did.
For a moment, Oscar just looked at me, like he couldn't believe the sight of me naked in his bed. Within seconds, his eyes darkened with desire, and he gripped the doorframe tight as my pheromones washed over him.
“Where's Roscoe?” I asked.
“Sleeping in the living room.”
God, his voice, deep with want, was like a hot bath washing over me.
“Good,” I whispered. “I need you.”
He swallowed, then stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
I nodded but he didn't move, and I realized that he needed me to make the first move.
I wanted to, I really did, but?—
“I can't walk,” I chuckled breathlessly, on the verge of tears if he didn’t touch me soon. “Please don't make me crawl over there.”
He let out the breath he'd been holding and hurried to the bed, yanking his shirt over his head. He exposed a surprisingly strong-looking chest with a spray of fine hair, wide shoulders, and a lovely frame.
He was nothing like Harry who was big and gruff like a bear. To me, there was something welcoming about his body, something that invited my touch. As soon as he was near enough, I reached for him, feeling his warm skin against my fingertips as he crawled onto the bed, moving as though he was magnetically attracted first and foremost to my lips.
The shock of his lips against mine took my breath away. His kiss was passionate and deep, and he pushed me until I was flat on my back. Oscar hovered above, but he didn't crush or suffocate me. He kept his weight mostly off me, tasting my lips and moaning like I was the first meal he'd eaten in days. His tongue delved into my mouth and the sensation on the roof of my mouth with my over-sensitized nerves had me arching up, seeking more comfort, more relief.
Next, he bit my lip gently and then released me to lean forward and press his neck against my nose.
I gasped, my arms flying around his back to pull him in closer, drawing in his heady alpha scent with a moan. My head swam from his pheromones, eyelids drooping, relief flooding my whole body because it knew it was finally about to get what it needed.
“Are you one-hundred percent sure you want me, Connor?” Oscar breathed against my cheek, his lips dragging against my jaw.
