Chapter 12 Little Momma
Little Momma
Kol
She smells like a floral dreamscape. Her pussy is godly.
I’ve never been this keyed up in my life.
I toured Urban Lounge months ago to possibly buy out the current landlord.
So, I knew about this little unused office on the second floor, and knew that if you jiggle the handle just right, you could get it open.
And yes, at the time, I notated it in case I wanted to fuck someone in it.
I think about fucking someone all the time. It’s a noise in my head that I can only turn down but never off. Most women satisfy the noise for a little bit, but to have a real honest to god omega in my arms—that’s the ideal.
All roads lead to an omega for an alpha. I let the animal in me come out to play. An omega is everything to an alpha. All her sounds and tastes and reactions were designed to kill me.
And I’m fucking dead on arrival.
I have two fingers in her pussy and my muzzle pressed firmly to her clit. She rocks herself over my face, and I make sure she has a lot of friction to work with. I hope I die like this, face buried in omega pussy.
I wish I could rip this thing off and shove my tongue into her.
I lead her on, chasing her orgasm, until she explodes above me. Her fingers gripped my hair.
I ease a finger from my left hand into her ass. I don’t let off of her clit. I want a second orgasm. And a third and a fourth. I want her fucking wrecked.
She loves it. Her noises are getting louder as I lead her through another one.
“Stop, please, I want your cock. I want your cock inside of me,” she begs.
Nothing compares to the way an omega begs.
I cannot deny her, even to increase her pleasure.
I pull out of her, pushing the fingers that were in her pussy under my muzzle and into my mouth.
Then I graze her whole cunt with all four fingers on my right hand, and stick them back under my muzzle, chasing the euphoric taste. Memorizing it, for when all this ends.
I turn her around and push her front into the wall, then I pull my hard, aching cock from my jeans and line it up on her swollen pussy entrance.
This will end, though. This will end, and I’ll never have her again. Because my packmate Locke has a scent match, and it’s Acadia’s wet cunt I’ll worship for the rest of my life.
A primal whine rips out of me.
Don’t think about that.
How can I ever let this omega hurt my pack? She fits perfectly in my arms. Her smell. Her cunt. The way she moves. Perfection. But so wrong for me.
I sink into her slowly, because I need to memorize this. I’m going to stroke myself to this memory for a long time. Her leg shakes as I push further and further into her.
I bend my body so that I cover her completely. My hands come up to either side of her head, resting on the wall.
“How does that feel, little momma?” I say in her ear, my voice strangled just like my cock.
She makes a similar strangled noise to match.
And then I fuck her.
I fuck her like this will be the only time I get to fuck her, because it is. She pushes back on me, wanting me further and deeper and harder. I’ll give her anything she wants, and how lucky am I that she wants me?
If there wasn’t a scent match for us, this beautiful, sexy woman would never actually want more from me anyway.
An alpha who suffers from rutting is often put away.
We lied in our documentation to the Institute about my medical condition.
If they were to check the records in Salt Port, then we’d be screwed.
A rutting alpha is a broken alpha.
Oscar tells me I can manage if we bond with an omega soon. That it won’t get worse, and I can even cure myself of it. He takes my blood weekly. I take whatever pill he gives me. And the noise is still there.
“Please, alpha, I want your knot,” she cries into the wall. Her hair is wet with sweat, her arms are shaking, and she’s already come with my finger on her clit and my cock rutting into her.
Under normal circumstances, I would never knot an omega in a nightclub, but this will buy me even more time.
And I don’t have a choice. The omega I’m currently deep inside wants it.
We will figure out the consequences later.
I’ve been holding back, so it’s only a matter of giving in before I’m coming inside of her tight, perfect cunt.
I stroke her back and sides, calming her, relaxing her. I brush the hair away from her face, and push my knot in.
This is it. This is all I ever fucking needed.
My heart beats in my ears, and it aligns with the beat of the music from the club. 140 bpm.
I wrap my arms around her as her body goes limp, and while we are connected, I keep her on her feet.
My muzzle rests on her neck. My teeth aching to be pressed into her flesh. Saliva pools and drips down my chin.
I turn us so we are leaning up against the wall on our sides. I pull her up and into me, so her head flops back on my shoulder. My muzzle runs back and forth across her neck.
“So beautiful, so sexy.”
She’s doing that omega thing where she gets all lethargic and pliable when she’s knotted. But I need her to stay coherent, because I’m not done with her.
“Little momma,” I rumble into her ear. “Don’t you leave me just yet. I still want to play with you.”
She rolls her head off of me and tries her best to come back to the land of the living.
“Being knotted is not the end. Did you know that in this position, both you and I can just keep coming? Over. And over. It doesn’t take much.”
She’s lucid now. Her hips rock back into me.
“I usually just fall asleep,” she murmurs.
“Well then, the alphas you’ve let take care of you are all losers, little momma. Let a real man take care of you—“
She does not think that’s cheesy at all, which just goes to show she’s ready.
I position us so she can lean forward across my arm, my hand on her neck.
Then I use my other hand to pet her clit, bringing her back to the brink.
My knot is firmly in her, but I can still fuck her like this.
I just need the right leverage. As soon as her hands shoot out to hold her up using some sort of furniture (it’s pitch black in here), I find that friction.
“Oh my god! Oh my god! I’m coming. I’m coming already,” she screams.
And I’m coming too. I see phosphenes on the edges of my vision because it’s so intense.
She’s panting and growling and muttering.
One more.
My hand reaches out, groping the thing she was using to hold herself up. It’s a chair. I turn us and sit down, bringing her onto my lap. Her legs outside of mine.
“One more,” I grit. She’s not going to make it. Her slick is running down my legs. I gently play with her tits, rolling the nipples gently in my fingers, her dress pulled to reveal them. One more.
She leans forward, putting her hands on my knees, so she can fuck me herself.
“Good girl,” I groan. She’s a good fucking girl.
And then she rips me to shreds. I’m coming into her for the third time. My spent trapped inside her with my knot.
“Fuck!” I can’t even tell if she’s coming again because I lose all my senses.
I grab her around her waist and keep rutting up into her. I’m lost. I’m gone. I’ve left this earth.
Eventually, I’m aware my face is pressed against her back. And I’m coherent again.
I’m satisfied. The noise is gone. I’m spent and used up.
I listen to my heart rate slowly lose count with the beat of the music. It takes about twenty minutes, and my knot slowly loosens.
I’m so lost in this feeling of peace, it doesn’t register that she’s removed my arms. Then she pushes off of me, my knot down enough she’s able to unattach us.
My cock is suddenly sensitive to the air and elements. My pants are somewhere.
Cum runs down my thighs.
But when I look down to search for my pants, the omega takes off out of the door.
She’s gone.
She left me.
Fuck.
I find my pants and leave the club. We were in that room for over an hour. Good fucking god. I’m covered in her cum and pheromones. I can’t go home like this. Locke will strangle me.
As I walk down the empty city streets, I rip the muzzle off of me, having to snap the leather strap in two.
I throw it into a trash can. Along with her panties.
I can’t keep them. I check into my gym. It’s 24 hours and expensive as all hell.
The beta at the front desk doesn’t smell anything on me other than liquor, smoke, and sex.
I use the showers, scrubbing myself raw.
I buy some pants and a zip-up hoodie from the beta to change into, then I toss my clothes into the trash on my way out.
I stop at a corner store for a sports drink.
I need to lie down.
I get back home around 3:00 am. Oscar is waiting for me on the couch.
“Did you find someone?” he asks me. I nearly roll my eyes at my pack lead, but I remember myself.
“Yes. An omega.”
Oscar stands and comes to smell me. I did a good job cleaning up. He makes me open my mouth to show there’s no blood in it. I do it, but only because I think he mostly wants to see my sharp teeth. He notices my gym branded outfit and nods.
“And how do you feel?”
“That’s a hell of a question, alpha.”
His hand comes down on the back of my neck, and he forces my head down. He also bends his head down, and we push our foreheads together. It’s an old mating gesture alphas do with each other. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Like he loves me.
“Tell me.”
“I feel amazing. And guilty. And calm. And like I did something very wrong that I hope Locke can forgive me for.”
He lets up and steps back.
“He knows what you needed to do.”
“And how does he feel?”
“Anxious. But I’ll take care of it.”
I nod. Oscar pats my cheek affectionately. I finally leave for my room to find Locke asleep.
Small mercies.