Page 95 of Wild Omega

“Me too.” She drops a searingly sweet kiss on my lips that sends heat flooding through my body, straight to my cock.

I stifle a groan, knowing others are watching. Red leans back and tugs aside the scarf around my neck to run her finger across my yellowing bruises. “I was worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” I say, stretching my neck so she can see it’s nearly all healed up. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. Callisto was a tad overprotective; made me stay in hospital for four days.”

“Good.” Red grins. She’s so generous. Even though Callisto rejected her, she’s still happy to see him paying attention to me. My omega runs her fingers gently across my bare eyelids. “Where’s the color today?” Heat flushes up my neck as she catches my gaze. “I hope you aren’t hiding.”

I clear my throat, which still gets a bit scratchy at times. “Today’s not the day to be mistaken as an omega.”

Her thumb caresses my jawline. “Don’t hide who you are, alpha. Rainbows and all.”

I nuzzle into her hand, wondering if those precious words apply to her too. How often does Red have to hide who she is, afraid of rejection? I need to show her it’s safe, and me hiding isn’t going to pass the litmus test. “All right, Biscuit. Next time I’ll come in full color.”

Red grins, easily pleased. “I think it’s about time you tell me why you call me Biscuit.”

I freeze in place. “Um, it’s a little embarrassing to explain it out loud.”

She pops a finger under my chin to tilt my head up. “You’re cute when you’re shy.”

Shit, well, now I’m blushing for sure. Red leans in and kisses the red spots that must be blooming on my cheeks.

I clear my throat. “When I lost my parents, Mrs Wren took care of me, and some days when she saw I was struggling, she’d slide a cookie across the counter and say, ‘Have a biscuit, darling. Sugar makes the world sweeter.’ And somehow that made everything better.” I grin. “She’s from the UK, so she really meant cookie, but biscuit just kinda stuck with me.” Feeling braver, I reach up and stroke Red’s hair, tucking a long, straight lock behind her ear. “You’re my sweet biscuit who makes everything feel perfect.”

Red stares at me, the tiny muscles in her cheeks twitching.

I can’t tell what she’s thinking, and I tighten my grip on her shirt, afraid she’ll pull away. “Is it too sappy?”

She shakes her head, dislodging the hair I just tucked away. “No, it’s beautiful.”

Red cups my face and presses her lips to mine, and the entire Omega Center fades away ’til only she and I remain, our souls trying to touch each other via our mouths. I splay my hand across her back, pressing her closer and trying to reach as much of her as possible.

Red resettles her position across my thighs, and even that slight movement squeezes a hungry moan from me.

Her eyes light up as she pulls back enough to ask, “Is there something more you want from me, alpha?”

I squeeze her tight to my chest. “Everything.”

“Oh, really? As in, if we weren’t here in a public meeting room?”

Fuck, she’s teasing me, and it’s working so well. An ache settles in my balls and my dick strains against my underwear. “Hypothetically, you mean?” I ask huskily.

My little crimson minx rocks across my lap, teasing. “Exactly. Hypothetically. Theoretically. Supposedly.”

I run my hand down to rest on her ass. “Then theoretically, I’d massage my aching dick through your gorgeous pussy until it stopped throbbing and until you squirted all over my lap.”

She whimpers faintly, her eyelids sliding shut. Best of all, her honey and macadamia scent flares wildly. I want her so badly it hurts, and knowing she wants me is delicious agony. But we have rules to follow.

Red leans in and nibbles on my ear, her hot breath washing across my neck. “Lucky I’m hypothetically not wearing panties. Just in case.”

Fuck the rules.

I run my hand up her dress hem and my breath catches as my fingers brush against her pubic hair and then slide through warm wetness. My omega’s slicking for me like a fucking river.

“Biscuit,” I murmur as a heated spasm constricts my body. “I’m not supposed to lay hands on you.” I groan and pull her head to mine, nipping at her lower lip. “You’d have to do all the work.”

She dives for my zipper.

“Red—” Samantha warns.

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