Page 6 of Nursing the Alpha
I saw him.
And worse, Ismelledhim.
Gods.
Even through the suppressants, it filtered in. His milk. Warm, trapped behind damp cotton. He made a discreet movement that no one else would have noticed. I would have missed it except for the way I watched him. He pressed against his left pec as if trying to ease the buildup.
My tongue thickened in my mouth. I imagined peeling off his shirt. Taking the feeding pads away. Pressing my nose to his skin. Licking the salt and sweetness from his nipples.
Would they be flat and shy?
Or swollen and elongated, like the kind I liked? Fat with milk, leaking if I sucked too hard.
Fuck.
I shifted my stance. Too late. My cock twitched once, hard, and then?—
Goddammit.
I came.
Right there.
In my goddamn pants.
Barely a rub. Just the scent of him and the fantasy I hadn’t even let myself touch all week.
My vision swam. I blinked hard and clutched the seat.
The omega was getting closer. There was movement. Someone vacated the seat next to me, and he glanced around, then slid into it.
I held my breath.
He turned, saw me, and smiled.
Fuck.
He was so beautiful.
Like the sunrise peeking through morning mist. His lips tightened in a nervous line for a moment before stretching back into a soft, hesitant smile.
“Hi,” he said.
His voice was soft. Nervous, maybe. But open.
My cock twitched again. Fucking hell.
I cleared my throat. “Hey.”
“You okay?” he asked, eyes dipping slightly toward my lap, then back up. “You look kind of… tense.”
That was generous. I was about to blow another load in my pants.
“I’m good,” I croaked. “Just… long day.”
He nodded sympathetically. “Tell me about it.”
A moment of quiet fell between us. His scent filled the air, thick and laced with something like cinnamon. Maybe his soap. Maybe just him. I wanted to bury my face between his pecs and plump them together, drowning in his scent.
