Page 58 of Choosing Their Omega

“Then make yourself come.” A ravenous smile plays at the edges of his mouth. “I want to see it. Touch yourself for me.”

I make a needy little noise, and the hand holding my hair drops downward, tilting my head back a bit. Miles drops his head, his lips brushing over my exposed neck. He works his way up to my ear and nips at my earlobe, then trails his tongue along the shell of my ear, tracing its shape.

I’ve never considered my ears to be an erogenous zone, but I feel my eyes roll back as I practically melt into a puddle.

Miles’s chuckle is a deep rumble in my ear. “See? I know what you need, red. But if you don’t start touching yourself like I told you to, I’ll stop. Put your hand between your legs. Show me how a dirty little Omega like you gets herself off.”

I’m still new to having people call me an Omega, and hearing Miles murmur the words dirty little Omega in that sinfully sexy voice of his makes me moan. I jump to do what he says, working my pants open and shoving them down enough to make room for my hand. When I slip my fingers into my panties, Miles gives another sharp tug on my hair, and I gasp as I start to circle my clit with my fingertips.

“That’s good.” He nods in approval. Even on our knees, he’s still taller than me, and his scent fills the closet until I feel like I’m drowning in it. “So fucking good.”

I blink, swallowing as I bite my lip. “Feels… good.”

“Does it feel as good as whatever you were doing to yourself that night in your room?”

My breath catches. I mean, I’d be kidding myself if I tried to pretend we both didn’t know exactly what I was doing that night, but hearing him talk about it openly makes a delicious little buzz of arousal spread through me.

“It feels better,” I breathe.

One brow arches. “Really?”

“Uh huh.” I work my clit harder, my wetness smearing over my fingers. “Because you’re here with me. You’re watching.”

He groans, wrapping his free hand lightly around my throat. There’s no pressure at all, so I’m not afraid, but my pulse spikes anyway. With one hand in my hair, the other on my throat, and his gaze boring into me, it’s like he’s everywhere. All I can focus on is him, and heat starts to build low in my belly.

“I am watching,” he murmurs. “I could watch you do this all day. I’ve never seen anything hotter in my entire life. I want you to show me everything, red. I want to see you come on your hand, your greedy little pussy pulsing around your fingers. Can you do that for me? Just like this?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

“Such a good girl.”

There’s a dominant purr in his voice that makes my Omega preen, ravenous for more of his praise. I slide two fingers into myself, about to follow his command and push myself toward an orgasm. But before I can, he gives a little tug on my hair, making me gasp.

“Not yet.” He shakes his head. “You have to be a good little Omega and earn your climax. Don’t come until I tell you to.”

My eyes widen, my fingers freezing for a moment as his words wash over me. This is another thing I’ve read about but never experienced, and it’s as if Miles plucked this entire scenario out of one of my most frequent fantasies. I’ve never been one to blindly follow orders—I’m too headstrong for that—but here in this closet, I love the feeling of letting go and allowing Miles to dictate exactly what happens.

My clit is throbbing harder than ever, my body so keyed up that I feel like my head is spinning, but I give a tiny nod, letting Miles know that I understand.

He smiles, and the possessive gentleness of it is a delicious contrast to the dominant way he’s holding my hair and my throat.

“Good. Now fuck yourself on your fingers,” he commands. “But every time you get close to coming, I want you to back off before you hit your climax. Touch yourself exactly how you like, but don’t let yourself come. Not yet.”

A little shiver runs through me. That’s going to be easier said than done. Between my Omega hormones, the need that’s been building inside me all day, the scent of Alpha that coats the closet like a layer of paint, and the rough growl in Miles’s voice, I’m already right on the edge.

Keeping my gaze locked on Miles, I slide my fingers in and out of my soaked core a few times, letting my hand brush up against my clit just enough to give some stimulation. After a few strokes, I draw my fingers out, gasping for breath as I try to fight down the rising tide of pleasure.

“Such a good girl. Hold it off.” Miles’s jaw clenches as he nods.

I whimper, giving it another couple of seconds before I start teasing my clit again, taking breaks to slip my fingers into my core. I lose track of how many times I do it, entirely focused on Miles’s face as I teeter on the knife’s edge of pleasure, doing my best not to tip over into an orgasm.

“So perfect. So beautiful. Such a good little Omega,” he croons, making a different kind of euphoria spread through me. “So close. Just a little more, then I’ll let you come for me. You want that?”

I nod desperately, but even as I do, pleasure jolts through me. I hiss out a breath, grinding against my hand, unable to stop myself.

“Miles, I—I’m…”

He shakes his head. “Don’t. Come.”

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