Page 156 of Claiming the Pack's Omega
“Oh? Curious, huh? So do you want a taste too?”
“If you’re offering.” My voice is so low it’s nearly a growl.
My cock is throbbing in my boxer briefs right now. It’s practically begging to be let out.
Her lips curl up into a teasing smile.
“Oh, only if I’m offering? I was expecting a bit more from you, Stone. A girl likes feeling important, you know.”
“You want me to lay out just how badly I’ve wanted you—no, needed you—ever since you came into that locker room at The Warehouse?” I say, my lips tugging into a dangerous, almost wolfish grin. “I don’t know if you can handle that.”
“You’d be surprised what I can handle," she says, running her hands up my arms and squeezing the muscles in my shoulders. “I’m sure I can handle whatever you have to throw at me.”
“I may be a gentleman, but I’m going to take that as a challenge,” I growl. “I’ll wait for as long as you want to, but the moment you give me the go ahead, I’m going to worship you the way I’ve dreamed about since I first met you.”
“Oh? And what have these dreams entailed?" She asks, shifting her weight so she’s grinding down on my hardness.
I grip her hips and still her movements. Like I said, I may be a gentleman but I’m still an alpha. An alpha with a delicious-smelling, drop-dead gorgeous scent matched omega on my lap.
My control is holding on by the thinnest thread possible, and I think she knows that. Based on the glimmer of excitement I see in her normally stormy gray eyes and the racing pulse I see at thebase of her neck, I think she’s trying to see how far she’s able to push me.
If she wants to push me, I need her to know what she’s going to get out of me.
“I want to peel these tiny sleep shorts off your body and bury my head between those delicious thighs of yours,” I growl.
“Delicious, hm? So you like my legs… I’ll remember that.”
“I love your fucking legs. If I could, I’d have you ride my face until I died there.”
Her eyes go a bit wide. I don’t miss the way her pupils dilate and her lips part at my words.
I run my cheek along the column of her neck, scent marking her with my own spicy pepper scent. It mixes with the charged ozone undertone of her petrichor perfume and Milo’s gunmetal.
The combination is out of this world. It makes me wonder what the pack’s nest would smell like, with all five of us together.
“Tell me more about that,” she whispers, her voice breathy.
“More about you riding my face?”
“Yeah,” she nods eagerly.
“Why don’t I just show you?”
I easily shift myself lower on the bed with her on top of me and despite her initial squeak at my sudden movement, she doesn’t protest.
“Are you gonna take those hot as fuck shorts off yourself or would you like me to rip them off of you?”
She rolls her eyes, despite the red-hot blush covering her cheeks.
“I’ll take them off, you caveman. These are the only pajama shorts I have.”
“We’ll have to fix that, then. I’ll get you a whole dozen so I can rip a few off of you and you can still have enough to wear a different one every day of the week.”
“Hmmm, I’ll think about it," she says, a twinkle in her eye. “You know, I’ve never ridden someone’s face before.”
I freeze, my eyes going wide with shock.
“Never?”
