Twelve #3
He tenses under me as I run my nose along his neck, not feeling shy in the least. He’s so easy to touch, so easy to want.
I don’t fully understand the desire running through my body.
I’ve always been left alone to figure out heats and the neediness that comes with the territory of being an omega exposed to their scent-matched alphas, and I have to physically make myself stay relaxed because I’m still internally bracing for pain after getting such potent hits of Calloway’s scent.
If this ends up being a dream and I really am back at my house and trapped somewhere uncomfortable and empty, I want at least this memory to hold onto.
Calloway’s hands fold onto my back, rubbing soothing lines up and down it, keeping me grounded.
I ignore the giant piece of hard equipment between my legs, instead focused wholly on the dark, juicy call of his blood.
I run my nose along his scent gland, deep blackberry notes most prominent, and I lick his skin as a teaser before sinking my fangs into him, euphoria rushing through me.
I’ve never imagined that drinking blood from somebody possibly good for me could feel like this; like I’m falling into nothing, floating. He coats my tongue and quenches my thirst, sliding down my throat like silk as I pull at the wound I’ve created.
Underneath me, he’s behaving himself remarkably well, and I shift my hips to get closer, but he hits me in a place only my fingers have ever explored, sending me reeling. It’s…too good. His hands slip down to my hips, pressing them down onto him as he rocks into me, hitting me in that spot again.
My clit pulses as his blood continues to flow into my body, connecting us, and each pull has him gasping and growing impossibly harder beneath me.
“Sorry to tell you, but I am absolutely about to come in my pants. You just…keep taking what you need, darling girl.”
Swept away by the moment, I chase what my body wants.
No shame, no second guessing, I just rock harder and faster on him until I’m hurdling through the stars right along with him, shaking as the orgasm rips through me.
Bigger than I’ve ever gotten on my own, his blood coating my lips, I can’t help but to throw my head back and use him for my pleasure.
He tells me how beautiful he finds me, how enthralling I am, how perfect I look when he’s making me come, and with his blood buzzing in my veins, I feel untouchable.
My omega is preening in my chest, trying her best to convince me to bite the brawny alpha and make him ours officially, and I very nearly give in, which is terrifying. I manage to stop myself just in time, my teeth barely pushing into his skin where a mating bite might go.
We’re left breathing heavily in the aftermath of the shared experience, and I now need space. That intensity is enough to make me addicted, and I’m not there mentally yet. “That was…probably more than you bargained for.”
His breathing is still heavy, and he’s still somehow hard underneath me. “Were…were you about to bite me just now? Bite to claim?”
My lips feel swollen from sucking on his neck, and there’s definitely a purple bruise forming around the spot I bit him first because I was a bit too enthusiastic while drinking from him, flavors I’ve never known exploding across my tongue.
I thumb it gently, then focus on my hair, picking out tangles to smooth out.
The braid Anderson gave me last night has long since fallen out and my hair is wild once more.
“I probably don’t have the best control over my omega after everything we’ve been through. If that happens again, just push me away. I don’t want to take away your choice.”
Calloway scoffs, picking up a piece of my hair to run between his own fingers. “Take it the fuck away, please. That was…I loved feeding you. Though I maintain you need real food, next.”
“You don’t mean that. I’ll uh, let you…clean up. Sorry for the mess.”
I’m about to pull away and stand when he catches my shoulder, pulling me close once more. “It seems like a shame we shared that and I haven’t even properly kissed you yet.”
He pushes forward, taking my lips. At first I just sit there, experiencing the tingles and the giddiness of the first kiss I’ve ever received, though dreamed about many times.
Eventually I get comfortable and respond, giving him firm pressure back and arching against him, pulling at his lips with my teeth.
Judging by the sounds coming out of him, he really likes this.
He ends it though, using a thumb to brush against my definitely swollen lips now. “Exquisite. Thank you for that, it was even better than I hoped it’d be. Can you hang out while I change? I want to take you down to breakfast.”
I find I quite like the idea of having someone to walk downstairs with so I don’t feel so exposed or awkward in a new place.
The reality of it is even better though.
As soon as he’s wiped himself off and changed into clean underthings, not at all trying to be modest while doing so, he grabs my hand and presses a kiss to my forehead and leads me downstairs, and I grip onto him like the lifeline he feels like, unsure how anyone else in the house will respond to my presence today, and bracing for it.
I assume there will be more fighting, but it feels like I can probably handle it now.