Chapter 9
One of the best, most awkward lessons of my life was when one of my mothers took me aside when she caught me watching porn and decided to “set me straight” about sex.
And by “set me straight”, I don’t mean she told me about the birds and the bees. No, Mom gave me an hour-long lecture that included the nuances of female orgasms and focusing on the needs of your partner.
At the time, it made me want to die from embarrassment. Hell, it’s still cringey. But Mom didn’t care about being awkward and weird. She’s a blunt alpha through and through, and she wanted me to not be a dumbass about sex.
So when I told Camille that I’d figure out how to make her come, it wasn’t me being cocky. Thanks to my alpha mom’s stern words, along with my innate desire to please people and be good at things, I’ve put in the work to learn how to get someone off.
Granted, all of those someones have been cis women, but dicks are a lot less nuanced and I’ve got decades of hands-on experience with my own. Plus, I know where the prostate is. I’d be fine.
Camille’s glistening pink pussy and her scent are making my mouth water, but I don’t dive right in to eating her out. She’s in heat, so we need to skip a good chunk of foreplay, but I’m still going to do what I can to build her up.
I stroke her spread thighs in a light caress a few times, letting her get used to my touch.
Though, maybe that’s more for me than her, because she’s had no problem with my hands on her since the moment we met.
I just love how soft her skin is. I enjoy feeling the slight texture of the faint pale stripes that mark it, too.
Camille lets out a frustrated huff and spreads her thighs wider, a clear invitation to touch her somewhere else. I increase the pressure, kneading into the plush flesh of her thick thighs and letting my thumbs drag close to where she’s dripping for me without touching her pussy.
Fuck, Camille is sexy.
I’ve always had a thing for slightly older women. Not a mommy kink or anything like that—though I’d be lying if I said it wouldn’t be hot as fuck if she decides to take the reins further into the heat. Shit, is it a mommy kink?
I suppress a shudder at the thought. Nope, I just like hot, mature women.
And thicker women. And redheads.
So yeah, she’s fucking sexy. No wonder Ambrose lost his shit over her.
“This has got to be the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” I murmur, gazing down between her thighs. It’s the absolute truth, but I also want to test if she’s any more comfortable with praise now that we’re naked.
Her cheeks flush a deeper pink and she shakes her head at me, thighs pulling together slightly. “I doubt that. You’ve seen a lot of pussies.”
Making a mental note that she’s not comfortable with compliments yet, I grin back at her and change tactics. “None of those pussies looked like they could take my cock so well. You’re made to be fucked, aren’t you?”
Camille’s breath hitches and her perfume grows stronger. “Yes. Please. Fuck me.”
Mmm, she likes that.
“Not yet. I’m in charge, remember?” I chuckle and shake my head, palming one of her breasts and watching her reaction as I thumb her nipple. Her eyelashes flutter with pleasure, which is good because there’s no way I could resist playing with tits as spectacular as hers.
I groan at how perfect she feels in my hand. If she wasn’t in heat, I’d want to spend at least an hour exploring every soft, luscious inch of her body, but she’ll be in pain if I wait too long to give her a knot.
“Y-yes,” she murmurs, gaze growing molten.
Camille likes being reminded that I’m in control, and I have no problem using that to my advantage.
I slip my hand down to cup her pussy, and she rocks her hips up to meet my touch with a gentle moan. The heat of her pussy against my palm is intense and my eyes squeeze shut as I imagine how good it’s going to feel to be inside her.
I lock eyes with her. “This is mine.”
The words are meant to turn Camille on, but they’re accompanied by a surge of genuine possessiveness inside my chest.
Whoa, what the hell is that about?
I’ve worked dozens of heats with many omegas, and not once have I wanted to claim them as mine.
Betas don’t have the same possessive instincts that alphas do, so why would I?
I’ve gotten pretty good at mimicking those behaviors since sometimes they’re needed to soothe an omega, but it’s always been an act.
Camille is different. Her scent makes my head fuzzy with how good it is, and now I’m thinking of her as mine.
It’s stupid, but there’s a small part of me that wonders if late-revealing alphas are a thing, too. Hoping that it’s a thing. After all the time I’ve spent coming to terms with my designation, I hate that the idea is exciting.
I know for certain I’m a beta. My parents did a bunch of genetic testing when I was younger, because they assumed I’d be an alpha, given my size and temperament. Every genetic marker that would indicate a potential alpha designation was absent.
Camille whines, and I shake away those thoughts.
Now is not the time to get all introspective and shit. I’m sure the strange feelings she’s evoking are nothing more than normal attraction.
“Hmm, how should I make you come first?”
Camille’s plush lips part to answer me, no doubt to tell me to use my cock, but I shake my head at her. “Rhetorical question, gorgeous.”
“I need it,” she says, voice filled with desire and a slight thread of discomfort.
Shit, I need to get a move on. And I need to do something that will have the best chance of getting her off. No way am I messing this up after talking a big game about making her come.
Not for my ego, but for Camille. If she’s never come with a partner, every sexual encounter becomes further evidence that it won’t happen. That maybe it can’t happen.
That’s unacceptable.
If I had time, I probably should examine why making her come is so important to me and why I’m not just giving her the medically prescribed dicking she’s asking for. But I don’t, so for now I’ll have to chalk it up to professional pride.
As an omega, Camille’s body is designed for pleasure. It’s meant to come over and over. I get the honor of showing her that for the first time, so I’m sure as shit going to do everything I can to make it good.
Time to bring out the crowd pleaser.
I keep one hand on Camille, teasing her clit with a light press of my thumb, while reaching out behind me to fumble around until I find my bag.
Camille watches me with a mixture of curiosity and impatience. “What are you doing?”
I tug the bag closer and find what I’m looking for by feel, then pull it out and hold it up as an answer to her question.
Her eyes widen when she sees the unassuming toy in my hand, clearly knowing what it is. “Oh!” The tension on her face bleeds away, and a smile spreads across her lips. “You came prepared.”
That pleased look combined with her throaty laugh makes my dick throb.
“Hell yeah, I did.” I grin back at her and spread her pussy with the hand already on her, holding her open so I can position the suction toy over her clit. “How intense do you like it?” I ask, pressing the button to turn it on.
Camille sucks a breath in at the sensation. “A little more.”
I turn up the toy, and her head tips back, her lips falling open. Before I can question the appropriateness of what I’m doing, I bring my mouth to the exposed column of her throat and suck hard, overwhelmed by the need to mark her skin.
“Oh fuck,” she gasps, making my blood heat with the need to pull more pleased curses from this beautiful woman’s lips.
I can’t keep from rocking my hips against the bed, though it does little to help with my aching cock. Usually I’m more patient, but nothing about things so far has been usual for me.
I up the intensity of the toy again as I drop my mouth down to circle her nipple with my tongue. After a few minutes of exploring her tits and finding out what touch she responds to the most, Camille lets out a little sigh that sounds more frustrated than pleased.
“How does that feel?” I ask.
“R-really good. It’s really good.”
Hmm. Good isn’t great. I’m not about to ask her if she’s close, because I know that’s a surefire way to scare away an orgasm when someone struggles with them.
I take her hand in mine and place it over the toy to hold it in place, so I have both hands free. “Keep this here.” I up the intensity one more time, loving how she starts to rock her hips against the toy in tiny motions.
That’s better.
I lock eyes with Camille as I press a finger against her entrance and sink it inside. Her slick lets me slip it in with ease, so I pull it out and add another.
“Yes, oh god, yes,” she moans as I use my fingers to stroke inside her, focusing on the spot where a knot would sit.
I build her up like this, watching her expression to see what she likes the best and slipping in a third finger and pressing harder. “Told you this pussy was made to be fucked. Show me how well you can take it.”
Her eyelids flutter and her body tenses as she sucks in a small, shocked inhale as her orgasm hits her. A low sensual moan spills from her lips and heat coils in my belly, the sound of this omega coming apart threatening to make me come undone too.
Eyes wide, Camille holds my gaze in disbelief as she rides out her pleasure. “Fuck, oh god, Jackson.”
Her saying my name as she’s coming makes that possessive feeling from earlier flare even brighter.
I gently tug away her hand and the toy as soon as she comes down from her orgasm, needing to taste her pleasure.
Holy.
Fucking.
Shit.
I knew it was going to take all my willpower to keep myself together while the sexiest damn omega I’ve ever seen in my life is spread out for me, begging for my cock, but the moment I taste her, I know I’m doomed.
She’s decadent, like my favorite cheat day treat—one of those sweet frozen coffees with extra espresso and whipped cream. Now that I’ve tasted her, I bet I’ll crave one of those now every time I get turned on.
Ambrose is going to be so jealous. He’s been trying to quit his caffeine addiction and here I am, with Camille’s blissful, coffee-flavored slick coating my tongue.
A smile curves my lips as I look up at Camille’s face from between her legs.
Damn, she’s hot from this angle. Her abundant copper curls fanned across a pillow and her pale, freckled skin flushed pink from her orgasm. Her eyes shining with the need for more and a soft, generously curved body that can handle anything I have to give her.
“Y-you don’t have to do that,” she protests, brows pinching together as she looks down at me. “I came. I can’t fucking believe it, but I came.” She shakes her head. “One is enough, though. I want your cock. I need it.”
I lightly swat her ass cheek and her eyes widen in indignation. “Keep telling me what to do and you won’t get my cock. Now be a good girl and come on my face.”
I settle between her thighs and get to work mapping her with my tongue. I swear I’m getting a caffeine buzz from her slick. Every part of me feels alive and euphoric as I eat her pussy, and it’s only made better when she stops fighting against the pleasure and grips my hair.
She tastes and smells so fucking good and I can tell by her moans that she’s close. I’m humping the damn mattress like a horny teen, but I can’t stop. I’m too turned on to care.
When a fresh burst of Camille’s slick coats my tongue as I spear it inside her, I lose it. I moan against her pussy as my balls draw up and my cock bucks. I’m helpless to fight against it, coming hard as I grind against the mattress.
Camille gasps. “Did you just…”
I look up from between her thighs to find her staring at me, and give her a sheepish smile.
“Yeah.” My reply sounds a little intoxicated. Is it possible to get drunk off of slick?
“You came from doing that?” She doesn’t sound upset. No, she sounds turned on.
I nod and give her pussy a long slow lick that has her gasping, then look back up at her. “Couldn’t help it. You taste so fucking good, gorgeous.”
“Oh f-fuck.” Her curse is soft and breathy.
I dip down to lick her again, groaning.
“Can… can I taste you?”
For a second I think I misheard her since her thighs are wrapped around my head, and I look up at her in confusion. “I’d love your mouth on me, but I’ll need a little longer to recover.”
Camille flushes and shakes her head. “No, I mean… God, I can’t believe I’m going to ask this, but my omega is begging me for it and I’d rather not lick the sheets like a maniac.” I raise a brow at that mental image, and she continues. “Can you, uh, feed me some?”
If I hadn’t just come, I’d be hard again.
It’s a pretty common thing for omegas to want during their heats, but giving Camille my cum like this feels dirtier. Hotter, too.
“You want me to feed you my cum?” I ask, voice hoarse as I scoop some off of my abdomen.
“Y-yes. I don’t know why, but I need it.” Camille’s eyes gleam as I bring my fingers up to her lips.
“I know why,” I rasp. I slide my free hand between her thighs and rub her clit in small circles. “It’s because you’re mine.”
“Yes,” she breathes, eyes locked on mine.
I know it’s not a real connection. It’s her heat hormones talking, but fuck, it still feels good to hear this gorgeous woman say she’s mine.
“Open your mouth and let me put my cum inside you where it belongs.”
Her mouth parts for me and she moans when I slip my fingers inside. Her tongue laves against them, licking off my cum. I keep circling her clit as she sucks my fingers like they’re my cock, and a few moments later she’s crying out around them as she comes.
Pride swells in my chest.
I made her come. Twice.
For the first time, I understand why an alpha would be so protective and possessive of their omega. The sensation is weird as hell. It also, somehow, feels right.