Page 5 of Into the Fire: Before

“Will you be a good omega for me tonight, Teacup?” The tip of my tongue carved a hot line up her neck.

“Yes,” she gasped.

My heart raced, my breaths already shallow and quick. I squeezed my thighs together to soothe the pulse that had started at my clit.

I had to be steady. In control. Of myself. Of Taryn.

“Good. Sit on the chair.”

My omega obeyed without question, never breaking eye contact with me as she sat on the edge of the straight-backed chair. It was an ornate thing we’d picked up for twenty bucks at an estate sale, filigrees carved into the wood of the back and a satiny, shimmery navy material covering the seat.

We’d need it professionally cleaned on a regular basis, for sure.

I perched myself on the end of our bed, legs crossed and back straight. I took a few silent breaths to climb into my persona. To find her voice, to capture the glint in her eyes and the wicked words that sizzled off her tongue.

My alpha, ready to play.

“Spread those legs for me, Teacup.” My voice was low and sultry, so different to even my own ears than my everyday voice.

Taryn dragged her bottom lip through her teeth as she slowly, teasingly, propped out first her right leg, then her left, so that she all but straddled the seat of the chair. The loose fabric ofher shorts flowed over her legs like water over rocks. It took everything in me not to jump up immediately and run my hands over that smooth skin myself.

But this was our game. Our great irony that we connected so thoroughly without touching at all.

I compromised by pitching slightly forward, taking a subtle inhale of her gorgeous perfume billowing outward from her. “Are you aching, Omega?”

She nodded quickly. “Yes, Alpha.”

“Are you slick?”

“Yes, Alpha.”

“Show me.”

Taryn slipped her fingers beneath the gusset of her flouncy shorts, beneath her panties. The fabric bulged and undulated as she took slow, deliberate swipes of herself. Her eyelids fluttered, and she rocked against her own hand.

“Now,Omega."

Her hand emerged, fingers held high and spread to corroborate her word. Sure enough, they were covered in her thick, sweet musk. It stretched like sheets of translucent silk between her fingers and ran in thick droplets down her palm.

My heart sped, excitement coursing through me like lightning. “Thank you for being honest.”

Taryn squirmed in the seat.

“Taste yourself, Omega.”

She sucked her coated fingers into her mouth without hesitation, cheeks hollowing as she cleaned her fingers of her own slick.

I stood, taking one slow step toward where she sat, cheeks and chest pink and eyes glassy. “Do you want me to taste you?”

“Yes,” she breathed, chest rising and falling rapidly.

Another step closer. “You want me to lick up the slick dripping down your leg like melted ice cream?”

She squirmed in her seat. “Yes, please.”

I finally stood directly between her spread legs, my knees bumped against the front of the chair. “Then make way, little omega.”

Taryn groaned, hooking one finger over the saturated gussets of panties and shorts, pulling them to the side and leaving her exposed before me. Creamy, decadent toffee aroma filled the room. I wanted to melt into her like caramel.

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