Page 48 of Royal Omega

The smile only makes it worse. As Pack Two heads down the hall away from us, I grab Carissa’s arm and tug her back into the library. A cameraman tries to follow, but I move fast, slamming the door in his face.

As soon as the door closes behind us, I turn and pin her against the wood, careful not to drive her into the door knob. She gasps, looking up at me with eyes full of lust.

Outside the door, the cameraman curses and bangs on the door for a second before heading back down the hall, presumably to inform the producers that I have gone rogue. There are still cameras in here, of course. There are almost always cameras.

“Hi,” Carissa pants.

“Hello yourself,” I rasp. “Having fun?”

Carissa’s brow creases in confusion. “Huh?”

“You seemed to be getting along with that pack all too well,” I clarify. “And that doesn’t sit well with me.”

Carissa’s eyes clear as if she suddenly understands what’s happening. “You’re jealous.”

“Damn right I am.”

Her tongue slides out of her mouth for a moment, drawing my attention to her lips. “Ransom, this is a dating show. Didn’t you expect me to, you know, date?”

I growl in response, leaning closer, trailing my nose along her neck. She hums, tipping her head to give me better access to her scent gland. I run my tongue over it, sending shivers through her body.

“That is very logical,” I growl in her ear. “And maybe it makes sense. But what’s happening between us, it’s not logical, Izzy. It’s primal. And when that male touched you...”

“Who touched me?”

“One of those fuckers in tweed.”

“He literally punched me in the arm. It’s the least romantic gesture in the universe.”

“He touched you,” I repeat. I know I’m being a caveman. Rationally speaking, she’s right; it was not a touch between two people who desired each other. But I don’t care. Not about any of it. I breathe in her scent, growling as Carissa touches my shoulders. She loops her arms around my neck, pulling me closer.

“Fuck, that feels good,” she breathes.

Her arousal blossoms in the air, and my cock throbs painfully in my pants. I’m two seconds from taking her against the door. Pressing closer, I grind my crotch against her, letting her feel what she does to me.

“Fuck, Ransom,” she whimpers. “I’m... I’m close to my heat. You can’t torture me like this.”

I grin despite myself. “I can if I want to, omega. What are you going to do to stop me?”

She stiffens a little, and lets go of my neck. I move back just enough to look down into her eyes, to see the stubborn set of her chin. “Maybe I’ll do something like this,” she says.

And then I feel her hand moving down over my abdomen, lower, lower, until she’s touching me over my trousers, her hand cupping me hard. I grit my teeth, struggling for control as she unzips my pants and reaches inside. Her hand is on my cock. She’s gripping my shaft, moving her hand up and down. I stare into her eyes, watching as she bites her lip, her arousal blooming stronger and stronger in the air around us.

“Carissa,” I hiss. “You’ve been drinking.”

“Not as much as they were,” she says. “I was mostly faking it to keep them drinking. Awfully dull pack, really.”

She flicks her thumb across the tip of my cock, and I groan, leaning a hand on the wall behind her as she pumps my shaft.

“Why are you doing this?” I groan.

She moves her hand faster, and I’m fucking panting. Moving instinctively, I thrust my hips into her hand. If she doesn’t stop soon, I’m going to cum in my pants like an untried teenager.

But I can’t bring myself to tell her to stop.

In fact, I think I’m going to have to take it further. I grab a fistful of her skirt and lift it up, reaching between her thighs to touch her slick cunt. She’s so warm, so fucking ready for me, that my mind goes blank. Before I realize what I’m doing, I’ve pushed her hand away and freed my cock from my pants. I slam her back against the door, lift one of her legs around my back, and press the tip of my dick to her entrance.

Then, looking deep into her eyes, I push inside.

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