Page 94 of The Rejected Omega

The kiss is tentative at first. It’s the first one we’ve shared without my heat riding me, and it feels new and different. Less harried, with more time to explore.

I taste his lips with my tongue, threading the seam of them. His stubble is rough against my skin.

He’s frozen to the spot, but I can feel his heart pounding.

“I think you’re trying to distract me.”

“Is it working?”

Connor groans into my mouth and starts kissing me back.

The entire gym has gone quiet. There are catcalls and a few claps. The other MMA guys have filtered out, eager to get clear of Connor’s wrath.

Then Connor scoops me up, and he’s walking with my legs wrapped around his waist.

He pushes through the door of the gym bathroom, and it swings shut behind us.

All the stall doors are open—no one is in here.

He carries me to the sink and sets me on the edge of it. Then he licks down my neck and sucks on my scent gland.

“We doing this?”

I nod. I know it’s a bad idea, but I need him. It’s been nearly a week since he’s been inside me.

“Don’t bite me.”

“Remember you fucking said that.”

He slips the mouthguard he was using in the ring out of his pocket and into his mouth.

“There. Kid gloves.”

He sits me on my feet and spins me toward the mirror, then leans me over the sink.

The motion discombobulates me. My hands clench the porcelain edges.

He tugs the seam of my leggings out of the cleft of my ass and rips the fabric apart, then slides my panties to the side.

My gasp is interrupted when he shoves his fingers in my mouth, hooks them around my cheek, and pulls my face up to the mirror.

“Suck. And watch yourself while I fuck you.”

I suck on his fingers, holding eye contact with him through the mirror. He pulls my sweaty hair off the nape of my neck and caresses a bruise on my back—one in the shape of his teeth.

He looks fucking feral with want, and I rub my pussy against the tent in his gym shorts.

He pulls his wet fingers free of my mouth and shoves them inside me, scissoring them back and forth a few times.

It’s quick work, not the thorough preparation of my heat, but I don’t care. I need him inside me.

Connor slides down his gym shorts and his cock springs free. Precum smears across the back of my thigh before he takes himself in hand and shoves into me with a grunt.

I grip the sides of the porcelain basin and groan as his length stretches me open. Then he’s withdrawing and pushing in again roughly, using me for his pleasure.

It isn’t nice, or romantic, or gentle.

It’s raw and feral and borders on uncomfortable, but it’s exactly what I need.

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