Page 8 of Alphabets & Omegas
Her head tilts and her red curls fall aside as she instinctively exposes her mating gland to her compatible mate.
The past few weeks I’ve fantasized about what her submission would look like. It has nothing on the real thing. The hallway perfumes with her blooming scent and I inhale deeply, another growl simmering from deep within my chest.
“Good girl. That’s my good Omega. You know I’m your Alpha, don’t you, little one?”
She makes a soft moaning sound, barely loud enough for me to hear, so I lean down, my face hovering over her exposed neck. Her perfume thickens, and I suck in a deep breath to savor it.
“Are you enjoying stringing your Alpha along?” I ask with a hint of frustration.
Swiftly, with the speed only Alphas possess, I switch our positions. Her back presses into the wall and I plant both hands on either side of her flushed face. I’m careful not to progress the touch, knowing once I do, I might slip off the deep end into a rut. I lean over her, letting her feel my dominating presence and breathe in my scent. The classroom is her domain, her nest, and I’ve been the perfect guest when visiting, but this corridor is neutral ground and it’s time she remembers what I am. An Alpha. I’m designed to control, possess, and protect what I consider mine.
She mewls. It’s a high-pitched yearning sound Omegas make when they’re needy for their Alphas, and I curse.
“Fucking hell, Omega.”
My fists ball and my toes curl.
“You need to tell me now if this is going anywhere, because I can’t handle this tension much longer,” I hiss, my breath fanning tendrils of her hair out of her upturned face. She looks so sweet, and all I want to do is corrupt her. I know that underneath those cardigans and polka dots is a caged animal. I very much want to be the one to let it out, if only this temptress would agree to go on a date with me.
Nevaeh swallows, her breath coming short, and she whispers a soft reply. “I don’t know if I can handle you.”
She’s so small, I belatedly acknowledge. The top of her head barely reaches my collarbone, even as I am hunched over her, and her shaky response makes my frustration soften.
Is she afraid?
I take a step backwards, creating a space between us. Running a hand through my hair, I catch my breath before responding.
“Are you afraid of me, Nevaeh?” I ask in confusion.
“What? No,” she splutters, pushing off the wall to follow me.
I stay still, waiting for the ‘but.’
“It’s just you’re… well, we’re very different people.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“It’s an overwhelming thing.”
“I’d be gentle with you, Omega,” I purr, looking down at the little triangle of cleavage peaking out from her cardigan.
“There! That’s what I mean,” she says, pointing at me accusatorially.
I blink and look back up at her flushed face.
“You look at me and say things that make me feel–”
“Yes, Omega? What do I make you feel?” I grin cheekily, rubbing the stubble at my chin.
She’s flustered again and clutches fistfuls of her skirt.
“Uh, even though I know you’ll be here every morning, I’m still caught off guard when you speak to me.”
“You don’t need to be on guard around me,” I protest, and decide not to make a joke about finding other uses for my mouth.
“But, I do!” she cries a little too loud before looking left and right down the empty corridor. She resumes, but in a quieter voice, and I step closer to her under the guise of listening intently.
“You make me feel things, think things, that I’ve never… I can’t sleep.”
