Page 95 of The Rejected Omega

We’re taking our frustrations out on each other through sex, and the bite of pain intensifies all the other sensations.

My pussy starts to tighten around him, and he stops.

“Don’t come.”

“What? Why?”

His fingers trail down my spine.

“Because you’ve been bad, and you’re not going to come on this cock until I tell you to.”

I reach for my clit, and he grabs both my wrists and twists them behind my back, circling them with his hand.

I lose my balance and fall forward, my chin bumping against the tap.

“You don’t fucking listen, do you?”

He pumps his cock a little, distracting me.

“Connor, please?—”

“I missed this pussy, but I didn’t miss that lying mouth.”

There are voices in the hall outside the door, and I expect someone to test the knob and start knocking any second.

“You locked the door, didn’t you?” Had he? I can’t remember.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Connor!”

“What? This is entirely natural. An alpha fucking his omega after she’s driven him entirely—fucking—mad. They’re welcome to watch.”

Connor’s hips stutter, and he curses.

His hand slips around my front and between my legs, squeezing my clit as he starts to move again. My pussy begins to flutter around him, and his thrusts slow. The slow drag of his cock along my inner walls makes me stupid with want.

“Love watching you take my cock. Your pussy was made for me.”

I come immediately, my cries echoing against the tile walls.

Connor fists the base of his dick, keeping himself from thrusting his knot in as he starts to spill into me. Without his knot holding in the copious amounts of alpha spend, some splatters on the floor.

I ought to be relieved we won’t be stuck together in the bathroom for another thirty minutes while he slowly pumps me full and waits for his knot to recede, but part of me misses it.

Connor’s knot shrinks quickly without an omega pussy to keep it swollen, and he slides out of me and tucks himself into his shorts.

I adjust my panties and hike up my ruined yoga pants before I defile the floor any further.

I’m impressed he was able to rip them so easily. They’re the thick, non-see-through Lycra kind.

“You owe me new pants.”

“Does that mean I get to take those with me?”

I glare at him.

He laughs. He already seems more at ease than before, his scent more balanced.

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