Page 33 of His Innocent Omega
I didn’t want gentle.
I didn’t want sweetness.
I wanted exactly what this alpha was giving me. Rough touches. Sharp, guttural, unintelligible moaned words. The sound of slapping skin against slick flesh.
I wanted to be split open.
I wanted to be marked.
I wanted to see and feel this night for days afterward.
I wanted to remember it each time I sat down, or took a step, or looked in the mirror.
I didn’t want to know his name or who he was. But I wanted this man–this alpha, this wolf–to fuck me into the mattress, into oblivion, to own me.
Being a virgin never held any kind of sacred meaning to me. It was just a thing. One last piece of my innocence in a world I was happily leaving behind to start fresh.
Closing my eyes against all the thoughts whirling in my brain, the ones that never let me truly relax, I arched my back, ground my head into the pillow, and stopped thinking.
His mouth latched onto my neck, his teeth nipping, laving, and sucking the tender skin there.
Gasping, the heat inside me ramped up to an inferno and my mind let go. Floating, feeling, surrounded by nothing but his hard body, his weight and heat and the scent of him. His hands and teeth on my skin.
Blinding white lights exploded behind my closed lids, like shooting stars in a blackened night sky. Until I was falling, shaking, all my muscles tight but moving against him. His cock so deep inside of me, his hips forcing me open wider, the air filled with grunts, gasps, and moans. And then there’s nothing but a peaceful feeling and I’m floating, floating. Just floating.
I gasped as I woke from the dream that had haunted me formonths. The only difference was that now I had a name to go with the memory.
Blinking my eyes against the bright sunlight spilling over my bed, I stretched, feeling a twinge in the lower half of my body. Thankfully I hadn’t come from the dream. This time. My body was still too sore from giving birth to be interested in joining in on the dream.
I envied all those omegas I saw on TV who seemed to carry on with everyday life immediately after giving birth. A part of me felt slightly defective that everything still hurt, certain parts more than others.
By the time I had gotten Julianna down after her eleven p.m. feeding, I had been in a fair amount of pain. Especially my bottom, after sitting in the rocking chair in her nursery for hours. It was padded, but not nearly enough.
The events of the prior day rushed at me, and I flopped an arm over my eyes, like that was going to drown out the memories.
Grayson had insisted on driving me home when Dr. Sinclair–Finn–had released me. Dr. Pierce–call me Asher–the pediatrician who had been on call when they had brought Julianna and me in, had declared her fit despite being a month early, and released her to go home. A small part of me had been afraid they would keep Julianna for a few more days and I would have to leave the hospital without my baby. Something I hadn’t been looking forward to. Since I didn’t have my car at the hospital, and I wasn’t cleared to drive, I’d let Grayson bring us home.
It had been so strange to be wheeled out of the hospital, holding Julianna, with the large, brooding alpha wolf shifter walking next to us. His arms laden with bags and random hospital paraphernalia. Along with a vase of flowers and balloons that had arrived that morning from Miss Rose. It had remindedme that I still needed to make the phone call I had been putting off to my parents.
When we’d gotten to my house, Grayson had pointed out a loose board on my porch, declaring he was going to call someone to come fix it. Last night I had tried to remember who he was going to call and when I couldn’t I had nearly panicked. I had an eidetic memory. Why couldn’t I remember? Was it pregnancy brain? How long after having the baby would I have to wait for it to go away?
Upon discovering Julianna’s crib miraculously standing, put together, in the middle of her nursery, I had burst into tears. Because…because all I seemed to be able to do was cry the last few days, and that was becoming my go-to response to just about everything in my life. It was as annoying as the lingering pregnancy brain.
My tears had seemed to flummox Grayson, and he floundered, not quite sure what to do with a crying omega. He had flushed, rubbing a hand through his hair, and mumbled something about having taken Julianna back to the hospital nursery for a few hours after I had fallen asleep, and leaving long enough to put her crib together.
My bed had been put together too, and made up with fresh sheets, even if the rest of the furniture and boxes seemed haphazardly scattered throughout the house. The bathrooms held all the essentials though, and the kitchen had been put to rights well enough. Even the fancy bottle warmer had been found and was waiting on the kitchen counter. Sure it was the work of the two grandmothers who seemed to have chosen me, I needed to remember to thank them.
And, then it had all gone to hell. It was all too much for me. I’d felt overwhelmed by almost completestrangers doing so much for me. Grayson was stepping in where I didn’t want him to be, doing the things I had planned to do for Julianna myself.
And hewouldn’tleave. Every time I had turned around, I was practically bumping into his large frame.
He wanted to feed Julianna, change her, and just take over all her care. It was maddening and frustrating, and I’d finally told him he needed to leave.
Which had started an argument. He felt he had a right to be there and was just trying to help. I felt he wasn’t letting me do anything for my baby, and that she and I didn’t seem to be bonding. He told me I’d better get used to him being in our daughter’s life, and I had snapped, saying that he should probably get a lawyer. In my mind I had meant it as a protection for both of us. Having things firmly in place, in a court order, protected both parties. My snappish tone had come across as an attack and he’d taken it as one.
Glaring, he had stormed out, slamming my front door, promising this wasn’t over between us. The slamming door had startled a dozing Julianna, who had spent the next several hours alternating between fussing and screaming.
At least I knew she wasn’t hungry, as she was taking to the formula fine. She just wouldn’t settle for me. It was like my presence upset her entire world. It had taken hours to finally get her settled last night, before I could tip toe across the hall and collapse on my bed in mind numbing exhaustion.
