Page 7 of Crash Course Omega
“Well, hello,” I hum, one eyebrow raised, already grinning. “Nice to meet you, too.”
I reach out my left hand and just so happen to find the light switch, clicking it on to reveal her glare.
It kind of reminds me of a certain someone whenever he jumps from his car in P2, though her cheeks are flushed in a lovely shade of red.
“Hide with me until they are gone,” she orders in a crisp English accent, exactly like her brother. And I’m here for it.
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, leaning back against the door, making sure it is closed exactly how she wants.
Even though we’re trapped in a broom closet, I want my first proper meeting with my omega to go perfectly.
“Hey,” I purr, leaning down to murmur in her ear. “Don’t you think this would be more fun if we—”
I’m cut off as she slaps her palm against my mouth, hitting the exact spot Maddock got with his fists just last week. But the pain is nothing when she lifts a finger to her lips.
“Sssh! Don’t make a noise!”
She looks so damn cute that I can’t resist. Screw making it the perfect meeting, I want to taste her.
Ever so gently, I open my mouth, taking the smoothest part of her hand between my teeth and biting as softly as I can.
And the result is amazing.
The strong, the gorgeous, the courageous Harmony Grace shudders under me, letting out the smallest whimper as perfume flows from her, and my eyes roll.
I nearly buckle. She’s like a refreshing evening treat, so sweet that I'd be completely full for the night if she'd just let me have a bite.
And there is no way I can stop with just one lick. I need the whole dessert.
I try to talk under her hand, but all that comes out is muffled nonsense. She doesn’t let up for a second, and I want to laugh at how annoyed she looks.
I reach up, easing her hand away. She narrows her eyes like she doesn’t trust me as far as she can throw me. But that’s okay. I like a little suspicion in my woman.
“What happened here?” she asks as she lets me peel her fingers away.
“Hm, something like a love bite?” I say as I pat the bruise.
She lets her guard down too easily, and I swoop in close. “You can feel this too, can’t you, sweetheart?” I ask. Because from the way she keeps taking deep breaths and how her shoulders hunch and lift her beautiful breasts under her tight black dress, there is no way she doesn’t.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispers through tight lips.
I bring her palm back to my mouth, kissing it ever so gently while never breaking my stare.
Her eyes widen, and she sucks in a breath. Which ends up with more shuddering, more perfume, and a waft of something else that makes me groan.
She’s slicking. The perfect Harmony Grace is slicking for me, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever smelled.
I want a hit of her pure strawberry and cream, and I’m already itching to pull up her dress and see if there’s anything underneath that would stop me digging in.
“You do. You know exactly what I mean,” I hum, leaning into her. And she doesn’t even try to fight me. “I can smell how much you know what I’m talking about.”
I’ve been searching for my scent match for years, and I always wondered if it would happen suddenly like this.
My gaze dances over her, admiring the line of her neck, sweeping over her collarbones, down the curve of her breasts before meeting her pretty eyes with a smirk.
Man, I want to spend a lifetime making her blush, because it’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen. No wonder she drives some people mad the first time they meet her. Because I feel like I’m caught under her spell.
There are always stories about people losing it and claiming they are her scent matches, but I really feel it. I swear it’s happening for us, that we really have matched.
