Page 28 of Waiting for Fate
“Why am I not surprised you’re a dog person?”
“I’m an animal person,” I admit with a shrug. “Dogs, cats, cows, snakes. If I can pet it, I love it.”
“Did you have any pets growing up?” Bea asks, her head leaning against my shoulder while she watches beside me.
“Three dogs. Great Danes. My mom loves big dogs, and my other parents can’t ever say no to her. What about you? Was the Powell household filled with fluffy critters running around?”
Her lips twist sadly at the same moment she shakes her head. “My Pops is super allergic to animal fur. We had a really badass fish tank, though. With those tiny fish that glow beneath a black light.”
“We’re getting a dog,” I announce firmly.
Bea’s eyes are wide as she glances up at me, hope and uncertainty warring within the enchanting tanzanite orbs. “You sound so certain whatever this is will last long enough to make a commitment like that.”
My hands cup her cheeks, my thumb sliding across her plush lips. “I told you, sunshine, you’re mine. If you think I’m walking away after this tour is done, you haven’t been listening to a word I say.”
Her tongue darts out to flick over the pad of my thumb and I can feel myself hardening in my shorts. Yeah, I think my girl needs a reminder of exactly how intense our connection is. I take her hand and drag her back to the bus, hoping Omen has dipped onto Primordial Covenant’s bus for lunch.
Silence greets us and I send a quick thank you to Fate for helping me. Bea trails behind me as I open the bathroom door and start the shower. Washing off is part of her pre-work ritual, and I’m going to take advantage of her routine.
“I’m going to strip this romper off your gorgeous body, then you’re going to put your hands on the counter and watch as I feast on your delicious pussy.” Her breath catches, chest flushing with my demand. “You’re going to come all over my face, soaking me in your slick so everyone knows exactly who I belong to.”
Her pupils blow as her perfume leaks into the air, suffocating me with the scent of her desire. I raise one eyebrow when she stands and stares at me. “I need your consent, Omega.”
“If you think I’m going to back down from an offer to eat me out, you’re out of your mind. Get to work, Alpha.”
I grin and step closer, teasing my fingers along the strap of her light purple outfit. When she shivers, her bottom lip trapped beneath her teeth, I carefully push the thin straps down her shoulders. The material slips down her chest, pooling where her wide hips flare.
She’s braless, her magnificent tits sitting heavy on her chest. Dark pink nipples already peaked from the cool air and her arousal. I dip down, laving my tongue over one while palming the other. Her nails scrape along my scalp, holding me against her as she groans. I push her tits together, lapping at one nipple then the other until she grips my hair tight and pulls my face away.
“If you don’t bury your face in my pussy in the next ten seconds, I’m going to tackle you to the floor and ride your dick until that fat knot is buried deep inside of me.”
Sweet Fates, her fucking mouth.
Dutifully, I drop to my knees, dragging her romper over her hips and thighs to tangle around her feet. The daintiest pair of white lace panties covers her pussy, the gusset so soaked in slick it’s almost transparent. One fist grips the material and tugs, straining the seams until they audibly tear.
“Fuck,” Bea whimpers. She leans back until her hands grip the counter, head falling against the mirror. Without looking away from me, she spreads her thighs, placing her legs over my shoulders to give me an unobstructed view of her dripping center.
“Fuck indeed,” I groan. My face buries against her mound, inhaling the honey sweet scent straight from the source. A swipe of my tongue along her slit and I’m a goner. Never again will a dessert that isn’t my omega’s slick satisfy me.
I avoid her clit, sucking at her lips and diving my tongue into her center until she’s writhing and moaning, trying to force my mouth to the little pleasure bud. When I suck it into my mouth, she lets out a keen that reverberates through the tiny bathroom.
The door creaks open an inch, the sound barely audible over her pleasure. I pull back, pressing two fingers inside of Bea and glancing to where Lex’s attention is riveted on her face. I hide my smirk in her pussy, hoping hearing our omega scream my name while she falls apart will be enough to break the grip my friend has on his feelings for her.
Bea’s walls pulse around my fingers, begging for my cock to replace them. I flick my tongue over her clit, content to give her as many orgasms as her heart desires. When she clenches around me, her moans broken by the heaving breaths she’s trying to pull into her lungs, I pick up the pace of my thrusts. Her body tenses, my name ripping from her throat as she gushes all over my hand, dripping down my wrist and onto the floor.
I’m in heaven. Buried between my omega’s soft thighs and drowning in her slick.
She pushes me away, overstimulated from my attention. I climb to my feet, sneaking a look at the doorway and finding it empty. Slipping my tongue into Bea’s mouth, I kiss her messily. Sharing her taste and reveling in the tiny tremors still wracking her body.
“Thanks for the snack, Omega,” I whisper. With one last kiss, I leave her to shower and get ready for tonight.
My cheerful humming earns me an annoyed glare from Lex for the next hour, but I just hum louder. I’ve made my intentions with our girl clear. His commitment-phobia is his own issue to solve.
Nashville is alive with protesters as we drive to the venue. The closer we get, the thicker they pile on the sidewalks. There are more anti-designation signs than anti-pack, confirming the DAU’s worries about tonight turning violent.
It has me on edge. Ready to call the show off and drag my omega away before any of these assholes decide to act on the bullshit they are spewing. Frantic energy has my leg bouncing. My instincts are demanding we run, but we can’t. The label has to make the call to stop the show, or Bea and Omen’s lives have to be in danger for us to leave.
The strip of road leading to the gated entrance at venue’s back lot is packed. Local police are doing a half-assed job of clearing the street. They’re as brainwashed by this city’s dated values as the rest of the crowd.
