Chapter 31 #2
I pull back and give her a mock stern look. “If you kiss me now, I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep from fucking you right here on your couch. Being knot deep in your sweet pussy might cause a problem when the food gets delivered.”
“Then don’t knot me,” she murmurs, her breath warm and sweet against my lips as she closes the distance between us again.
“I appreciate your overestimation of my self-control, but if I get back inside you, there’s no fucking way my alpha’s not giving you my knot.
” Chuckling against her lips as she lets out a small whine, I give her a quick peck and then slide away before she can pull me to her and I lose all my resolve.
I glance at the status tracker for our food order, then back at Camille. She’s flushed and a little breathless, her robe loosened enough that I can see the long line of her cleavage and a hint of her black panties.
“Spread your legs for me, sweetheart,” I rasp, unbuttoning my sleeves and rolling them up methodically.
Camille’s eyelashes flutter, but her brows pinch inward. “I thought you said we didn’t have time.”
I kneel down on the carpet in front of her, praying she doesn’t hear my knees creak as I do. Taking hold of her legs, I coax them apart. “Undo the robe, too. I want to see all of you.”
Her eyebrow quirks, but she obeys, pulling the loose tie to let the thin fabric fall to the side. My cock bucks eagerly at the sight of her—a sumptuous feast laid out for me that I’ve been waiting for weeks to indulge in.
“Now that’s a pretty sight,” I rasp, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh and smiling when she giggles.
“Sorry, that tickles.”
“Mmm, are you sensitive, sweetheart?” I purposefully run my cheek against her delicate skin to let my cropped beard scrape against it.
Camille squirms, her hand coming down to my shoulder to brace herself. “Y-yeah, a little.”
I move in further, trailing my lips across her skin until I reach her center, and press my mouth against the gusset of her panties, inhaling deeply.
Her intoxicating coffee and cream scent slams into me, and I release a muffled groan as the fabric grows wet with a flood of her slick.
“Mmm, naughty girl.” My tongue darts out to lap at the soaked fabric.
Fuck, her taste is even better than I remember, like a shot of espresso right to my veins. I feel like I could do anything with Camille’s taste on my lips.
“You’re not wearing your omega underwear. Were you going to go out to dinner like this? You would’ve made such a mess. Everyone would’ve known how much this pussy gushes for me.”
Her breath hitches at my words, and I look up to make sure I’m not making her uncomfortable with this kind of dirty talk.
Camille’s eye lock on mine, gleaming with arousal. “Yes. I’d want them to know.” She nibbles on her lower lip for a moment, and after a moment, she comes to a decision. “Will you help clean me up… Daddy?”
A rumbling purr erupts from me and I tug her panties off, bringing them up to my nose to inhale again as she watches.
I want to freeze time and burn this image of her in my brain—the luscious curves and rolls of her body on display, her freckled skin flushed pink, and her pussy glistening with need.
She’s the kind of woman that inspires painted masterpieces. A muse that makes me wish I had any kind of artistic skill. I’ll have to beg Jackson to paint her in my stead. I can show my appreciation for her beauty in other ways.
Tossing her underwear aside, I grip her thighs and spread them even wider so my shoulders will fit between them. I keep my eyes on Camille’s as I bring my mouth to her pussy and press an open-mouthed kiss to it.
“O-oh,” she breathes, hands bunching in the robe at her sides.
I smile against her and set about my task, lapping up her slick and exploring every inch of her until she’s squirming. The goal of cleaning her up is futile, but a decidedly enjoyable one. I could spend a lifetime between this omega’s thighs, drinking down her heavenly slick.
“Ambrose,” she whines, her hips canting slightly to chase my tongue.
“Shh, just relax and let me take care of you,” I murmur, stroking her trembling thighs.
She forces her body to relax and I guide her hand away from where it’s tangled in her robe to rest it on my head. “Hold on to me,” I order.
Cock pressing insistently against my fly and pre-cum making a damp patch in my underwear, I use my mouth on Camille until I find a motion that has her clutching my hair and holding me close.
Fuck, I could come like this.
It’d take little more than a few strokes of my cock over my pants and I’d be making a mess of my fancy suit.
But this isn’t about me and I really don’t want to greet the delivery person with cum-soaked pants.
Or spend the rest of the night in sticky boxers.
I’ve still got a lot of plans for this sweet omega.
“Shit, I’m going to come,” Camille gasps, sounding almost surprised.
A fresh burst of slick coats my face as she moans through her release. I’d happily wring at least one more out of her, drunk on her taste and scent, but the food will be here soon.
When she lets go of my hair, I sit back on my heels, grinning up at her. “I forgot how stunning you look after you come.”
A shy smile curves her lips as she reaches out to retie her robe and her eyes drop to my erection tenting my pants. “Can I see you come?”
My cock gives a needy pulse, and I consider caving to her request, but the intercom buzzes, saving me.
“Later.” I chuckle at her tiny pout. “If you’re a good girl and do everything I say, I’ll show you whatever you want, sweetheart.”