Page 83 of In Control

I roll my eyes. “I think I could live here permanently if you let me bring my Kindle and hooked me up to the WiFi.”

“If you moved in here permanently, you’d have no time for reading.”

I pull his t-shirt over his head and run my hands all over his warm skin. He rolls his head and his shoulders. “Hmmm, your cool hands feel nice against my skin.”

“Does it hurt anywhere?” I massage his lower belly.

“Not yet.” He takes my hand and draws it down into his sweatpants. He’s not wearing any boxers and I coil my hand around his cock. It’s hot and impossibly hard. I sink to my knees, dragging his sweatpants down his muscular thighs and legs. When I reach his bare feet, I notice for the first time how bruised and battered they are from all the dancing. I sweep my fingers gently over them.

“Want me to give you a foot bath, followed by a massage?”

He growls, a noise not as deep as his alphas. “Next time, when I’m not dying to jump your bones.”

I take the hint, lifting my gaze to his cock. He’s dribbling pre-come and I lean in to capture it on my tongue, another growl issuing from his throat. Then I grip his hips and take him into my mouth. The taste is dense, exploding on my tongue and making my head buzz. It’s heady.

I go gently on him at first, unsure what he can take or what he needs so close to his heat. I swirl my tongue around his head, tracing the thick vein that runs his length. He strokes my hair, making satisfied purring noises, his eyes closed in contentment. I’m reminded how beautiful he is, with the sunlight creeping in behind him, catching the strands of hair so they appear as if they are alight.

As I stare up at him, his eyes flutter open, the green of them so piercing, I suck in an inhale.

“A little more sweetheart,” he says, stroking my cheek.

Cupping his ball sack in one hand, I suckle him, increasing the pressure and depth with each suck. He moans, his fingers tightening in my hair, until he’s holding my head tight.

“Need … to … thrust,” he tells me, staring down at me. His teeth clenched together.

“Hmmmm,” I moan around his cock, gripping his hips and encouraging him to move. He thrusts into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat. For a second, I can’t breathe, and then he withdraws, allowing me to catch my breath, before he thrusts in again.

“Fuck, Sophia, your mouth is like your pussy. Small and wet and perfect for me.” He thrusts again and I suck on him hard, so hard, he groans and empties into my mouth.

It’s more, a fuck-load more, than I’m used to, and I guess this is what it’s like to be with a male omega so close to his heat. I swallow it down as best I can, but most of it spills over my lips and dribbles down my chin.

Gabe laughs, scooping it up with his thumb and painting it across my collar bones. “Want you smelling like me.”

When he pops from my mouth, he’s as rock hard as he was before. I stare at his cock in astonishment.

“You’re still … you’re still erect.”

He laughs again, shaking his head and pulling me to my feet. “Yep, will be for the next 72 hours, sexy little thing. I’m a fucking baby-making machine and my spunk is like baby-making dynamite. I hope you’re on birth control.”

“I am,” I tell him as he finishes his earlier job of undressing me. “But I brought condoms with me as added protection.”

“I’d love to knock you up,” he says, kissing my belly as he helps me out of my jeans and my underwear. “I’d love to see this belly rounded with my kid.”

I think it’s the hormones and the fever talking. But I let a little fantasy flicker through my mind anyway, one where I’m curled up in bed with Gabe and our baby. It’s surprisingly tantalising. I’ve never entertained the idea of children before.

Shit, those hormones must be catching. Or maybe it’s the strength of his pheromones, or the citrus taste of him in my mouth.

He leads me to the bed and we snuggle up together in the layers of soft mattress and blankets. We lie there naked together, wrapped up in each other and we make out like a couple of kids. I don’t know what I expected sharing an almost-heat would be like – frantic, crazy, and rushed – this is slow and languid. Like he’s enjoying just being with me, his hands stroking over every inch of my skin as we kiss and kiss and kiss some more.

After a while, though, he grows restless, like the calm his orgasm brought him is wearing thin. He squeezes my tits and my arse and leaves my mouth to nip at my throat. I want to take care of him. I want to make him feel better. So I roll him onto his back and climb onto his waiting cock. I can see it brings him some peace. His face mellows as I slide down his cock. Like I did before, I start off slow and gentle, grinding into him and circling my hips. But he has less patience now. He whines for more, his tight fingers digging into my waist. I bounce on him, finding a rhythm that is hard and fast.

He groans and grunts beneath me, his face burning hot, sweat pooling along his brow and his chest, his eyes wild. It’s so erotic, and I’m so wound up from the slow build up and his teasing, that I come, clenching around his cock as waves of pleasure cascade through my body.

When he comes, he holds me firm on his cock, mumbling words about wanting to fill my belly and he floods me, floods me so much, his come leaks out the bottom of the condom.

I count my lucky stars I wasn’t relying on it for protection.

I expect this second orgasm to sedate him like the last one did, but he’s nearer his heat-proper now.

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