SALT #2
Eliano slides his hands up to my hips, helping me keep my weight balanced. Without pushing down, he strokes my thighs softly and reassuringly.
"Ssshhhh, beautiful," he whispers, his voice a soothing rumble. "Don't rush. Your tight little beta hole isn't used to such a big alpha rod," he adds with a smirk!
Clearly a challenge, that patronizing tone only fuels my stubborn streak. Used to it? I'll show him.
Gritting my teeth, I press down harder, sinking further in a determined push, the stretch turning borderline painful as I take more of him, now much closer to bottoming out, still not there. Yeah, no more, I can’t. It’s too much for now. His dick won!
"Baby, don’t force yourself, I know you're brave and strong, just let yourself enjoy it…as much as I enjoy seeing you desperately and beautifully impaled on me…"
I roll my eyes and treat him with my middle finger.
But… right after that, almost against myself, my hands slide down and reach for his, our fingers intertwining. Eliano’s eyes look at me… his gaze warm, genuine, and it makes me feel… not like myself. Happy?
Testingly, I make a small, tiny jerk up, and with his cock now buried so deep, I realize it presses against a place inside me that makes stars burst behind my eyelids.
A low groan escapes me, my hole clenches involuntarily around him.
Using it, I push down one more inch and freeze there, almost fully impaled, with just about an inch and a half left out!
My ass is so close to sitting on his thighs, feeling every throb of him inside me. The fullness is strangely dizzying, my body screaming at the invasion, but beneath the discomfort, there's a deep, pulsing pleasure that makes my cock leak copiously onto his abs.
We wait like that for what feels like forever, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath, sweat beading on my forehead.
I have a feeling my intestines are rearranging themselves.
As I lower my gaze from the wall behind the bed, where I was zoning out, pushing through the discomfort, I meet Eliano's eyes. They are wide with awe, drinking me in like I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. His hands stroke my sides gently, thumbs tracing circles over my skin.
"You look beautiful skewered on my pole, so gorgeous," he breathes out, his voice swelled with emotion, and… honesty. "I could see you like this always, taking me so perfectly…"
A flush creeps back into my cheeks at the compliments. I believe him; he really is enchanted by the view. I can sense it in him, weirdly strong, almost as if his thoughts were mine.
Almost to show off myself to him in all the ‘rider’ glory, I lift my hips higher, still a bit experimentally.
The drag of his dick sliding out sends sparks through my passage, so right away I sink back down, but now, I’m hooked!
The feeling is just sooo good. Growing bolder, I finally start to ride him more dynamically, up and down, up and down, my eyes locked on him, as I'm gradually speeding up, working in earnest.
My thighs flex with each movement, cords of muscle bunching and releasing as I rise and fall, keeping up the pace. My hips roll, grinding down to take him deep, but still without bottoming out, holding that sweet spot where the stretch is intense but bearable.
Sweat slicks my skin, making my tattoos glisten.
Eliano's hands grip my thighs tighter, his fingers digging into the flesh, guiding me without forcing me to take him fully.
I can feel every ridge of his cock dragging against my inner walls, the condom doing nothing to dull the heat of him, my slick making obscene, wet sounds with each thrust—schlick, schlick—as I bounce on him.
I’d thought the pleasure would build slowly, distracted by the physical effort of the ride itself, just a coiling tension in my gut.
But as I find my rhythm, it ramps up, spilling my moans out.
Soon they fill the room. I lean forward, bracing my hands on his chest, feeling the hard planes of his pecs under my palms. My hips work faster now, circling and dipping, my ass clenching around him on every downstroke.
Eliano's head falls back against the pillow, a deep, guttural moan ripping from his throat, his golden eyes squeezing shut for a moment before snapping back to mine, locked in an intense gaze.
"Fuck, Salt… you really ride perfectly!" he groans, his voice breaking on the words, hips bucking up subtly to meet me.
Encouraged, I ride him harder, more enthusiastically, my thighs burning from the effort, muscles straining as I lift and drop, the impact of skin on skin echoing in our quiet module.
My cock slaps against his abs with each motion, untouched but throbbing, pre-cum smearing across his skin in sticky trails.
The pressure inside me mounts, that spot deep within sparking with every grind, pushing me closer to the edge.
Eliano's moans grow louder, more feral, his hands roaming up my thighs, squeezing my ass cheeks, and from time to time, pulling me down for a messy kiss; tongues tangling, teeth nipping, breaths mingling in hot pants.
Suddenly it's too much, the way he tightly fills me, the way he’s staring like I’m amazing.
My rhythm stumbles as the orgasm crashes over me, my hole spasming around his cock in tight pulses.
I cry out, a loud, broken sound, as I come hard, ropes of cum splashing across his chest in impressive arcs, the first spurt hitting his neck and collarbone, the next painting his pecs pearly white.
My vision blurs, body shaking as waves of pleasure rip through me, my thighs clamping down on his hips, still milking him.
Eliano joins me, his own release contained by the condom, but I feel him swell slightly inside me, his moans turning into a long, throaty groan as he throws his head back again, neck arching, Adam's apple bobbing.
His fingers bruise my hips in the best way, holding me down as he pulses, the sensation drawing out my aftershocks.
And suddenly the ride ends. The room fills with loud panting as I flop down over his chest, my forehead landing on his collarbones, probably smearing over droplets of my own cum. But I need a minute to catch my breath.
We stay connected for a dizzying moment, my body slumped over his, our mingled scents of sweat and sex filling the air.
But as the high fades, darker thoughts flood back in.
What the hell was that? I just rode him like my life depended on it, forgetting who I was and what my mission was supposed to be.
Suddenly, I feel Eliano’s hand slowly sliding down my back, along my spine, lightly teasing my vertebrae, and his quiet voice whispers in my ear, "Do you know what kind of AO call you gave out last night?"
I freeze instantly, not lifting my head, my forehead still resting on his collarbone.
"What?" I mumble, my tone almost annoyed.
"A heat call. A demand for me to serve you in your heat."
"The fuck!" I jerk my head up, our eyes meeting.
I had suspected and imagined a lot about what it could mean, but not this damn nonsense!
"Your scent, Salt…"
"Stop!"
Without another word, I lift off him, wincing at the sudden emptiness, a trickle of slick following as I scramble off the bed.
Eliano reaches for me, but I dodge, muttering something incoherent about cleaning up.
My cheeks burn as I bolt for the bathroom, slamming the door behind me, my heart racing from more than just the sex.
Leaning against the sink, I catch my breath, staring at my flushed reflection, the wild hair, the hickeys on my neck, the satisfied glow I lowkey dig.
Fuck, I refuse to believe it! Heat?
One voice whispers: No! It can’t be it!
Again, the other one sensually teases, Oh yeah, maybe you should go back there, and enjoy whatever it is, to hell with all the rest!
I shut my eyes tight. For now, I need a minute to compose myself. I’m in fucking trouble, for sure.
Suddenly I remember something. My eye lands on Eliano’s toiletry bag sitting on the edge of the sink. On a weird impulse, I peek inside. It’s packed with the usual travel-kit stuff you can grab ready-made at airports. I spot a tiny deodorant stick and focus on the label.
Bingo! "Blocks pheromone scent during rut/heat and pregnancy."
I grin under my breath.
◆◆◆
That morning there are photography classes for couples.
It is another one of the so-called bonding activities they run here regularly.
The whole group is divided into four smaller parts of about twenty people.
Each is assigned one of the entertainment coordinators, and we end up with Hugh.
I decide it is worth staying on good terms with him, since he is responsible for kitchen supplies and usually knows the ferry schedules well in advance, so I keep a positive attitude, almost friendly, which is a lot for me, especially with everything that has been going on lately.
Eliano and I don’t talk about what happened, and the whole heat topic doesn’t come up even once during breakfast.
Mostly because I’m still clinging to the idea that this can’t be it.
Heats are supposed to be the kind of thing where omegas can’t do anything but lie there and take it, with waves so intense they knock them clean off their feet. And not getting off? That’s meant to come with some serious physical pain.
However… beta heats, if they happen at all, affect only about two percent of the beta population and are described as mostly subtle, with rare exceptions.
So what’s going on? Am I one of the crazy cases?