Page 58 of Knot All is Crystal
“Yes.”
“‘You know, it’s alright. Smiley face. I was thinking about that movie we watched, and it made me realize I don’t even know if you like romcoms. Were you just humoring me?’ Respond?”
I chuckle and grab my phone, willing to endure the pain for a few minutes.
I don’t not like romcoms. I wasn’t paying much attention to the movie.
Oh? What were you paying attention to?
You have a ceiling tile that is waterstained…
Kidding.
I was paying attention to the way too pretty for me Omega.
Who is she?
I’ll kill her.
My laugh tumbles out, feeling almost a little rusty. I never dreamed about having an Omega, so I didn’t have any notions about what mine would be like, but I don’t know if I could’ve pictured Crystal. She’s delicate, but there is a hardness behind her eyes that I long to get to the bottom of.
I have caught her staring off into the distance a few times, her eyes haunted and mind wandering.
I want to know what makes her look like that, what brings that kind of melancholy into her life. Not that I can do much about it.
But I’d still like to try.
We text back and forth for the duration of her lunch break, joking about the movie and making plans to get together again. I want to take this slow, to get to know her and court her, but it’s hard when all I want is to climb into her nest with her and never leave. To hold her to my chest and never let her go.
But holding an Omega hostage, even if she’s mine, is frowned upon, I suppose.
When she goes back to work, my migraine spikes again, punishment for staring at my phone. I curl up for a nap, even though I know it won’t send the pain away.
Maybe I’ll dream of my Omega. I bet that would help.
* * *
That did not help.
Instead, I wake up hard as fucking rock, mortified that my subconscious mind is objectifying my Omega.
Of course, I’ve noticed how gorgeous and sexy she is. But she’s more than that, and it makes me feel like a slimeball to focus on the sexual component of our relationship, so when I fall asleep and dream about her riding my face, I wonder if I’m worthy of her.
There’s mixed research on whether orgasms help migraines. Essentially, it’s dependent on the person. Some people report significantly less pain after an orgasm, while others report increased pain.
All I know is that all of my blood living in my cock isn’t helping things.
I slide down the waistband of my pants and pull my cock from my briefs, sighing almost immediately at the relief I feel. I grab some lube out of my bedside table and squirt a generous amount in my hand before gripping my cock and lightly stroking it.
Each touch feels like an electric shock, and I can’t help but wonder how Crystal’s slick heat would feel.
But more than that, I want to know what she tastes like.
In my dream, she crawled up my body, kissing and licking my skin before pressing her cunt down on my face and gripping my hair. I could barely breathe, but that was okay because her taste flooded all my senses.
She ground her clit against my nose while my tongue dove inside her, lapping at her sweetness.
I stroke my cock to the fantasy, squeezing my tip as I picture her using my body for her pleasure.
