Page 11 of Forbidden Taste
It’s like everything aligns, the world snapping into place, and a long unbidden moan falling from my lips, as he hovers over my back, his chest pressed to my spine. We’re both panting, sweat-slick and breathless, the air heavy with our scents as he comes, tipping me over again.
I come a second time, weaker but no less intense, my cock twitching in his hand as I shudder beneath him. As if he’s done this a thousand times, Leo gently picks me up—his knot still firm inside me—and sits back on the lounge, settling me in his lap. I’m still impaled, my thighs splayed wide over his as I sink back against his chest, sated in a way that I haven’t been in years.
“I didn’t know that this is what…” he murmurs against my ear. “It’s a lot.”
I tilt my head, catching his gaze as I settle my hands on top of his resting on my belly. “This was okay?” I ask, searching his flushed face.
He twists my head gently, fingers brushing my jaw. “More than okay,” he says, his breath warm against my skin. “What about…” He trails off, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.
“Nobody else exists right now. Not when you’ve got your knot inside me.”
He hums, a low, contented sound, his lips grazing my shoulder in a kiss so light it makes me shiver. I wonder if he’s not entirely Omega—if he could claim me, mark me as his. The fantasy of us two against the world isn’t one that’s feasible but it’s one I’ll cherish. Some biological part of me will still need an Alpha—Leo too, but for right now I can dream of a world where it would bejust us.
His hand slides down, wrapping around my cock again, and I laugh, breathless. “Sweetie, I don’t think I could come again if I tried.”
Leo doesn’t seem to care as if these last several moments have opened the floodgates of his instincts. I’ve heard stories of Alphas suddenly becoming possessive when they find their mate, seeking out their Omegas, and shielding them from everyone else. And then there’s the Omegas, territorial and needy, always wanting to give pleasure and attention.
I might have just unleashed the primal part of my mate and god, it’s going to be glorious.
“I love the little sounds you make,” he mumbles, his lips brushing my ear, the husky edge to his voice making me wiggle on his cock. His knot settles deeper inside of me and I arch against his chest, whimpering at the oversensitivity. “And the way you squeeze my knot.” His fingers stroke me lightly, not demanding, just savoring, Leo humming again.
“And if you keep doing that,” I tease, my head lolling back against his shoulder, “your knot won’t go down.”
He doesn’t reply, just pulls one of the lounge blankets over us before his arms wrap around me, holding me close, and I realize he’s purring—a low, steady vibration against my back, like an Alpha would after knotting their mate.
It’s soothing, possessive, and I sink into it, my lids growing heavy. He’s an Omega—I smell it in his scent, see it in his shy smiles, his gentle touches—but there’s Alpha in him too, in the way he took me, the way he growls, the way he purrs now. I don’t have time to dwell on it, to untangle the mystery of him, the safety of his embrace drawing me under.
nine
LEO
I hold Riley against me, his warm, pliant body pressed to my bare chest, the blanket draped loosely over us as my knot slowly deflates inside him. As the haze of the moment fades, the needy, raw desire sifting into the background, the confusion settles in. I’ve never responded like this to anyone—never been so overcome by the need to fuck someone, to claim them, to lose myself in them.
Sure, I’ve had toys, my hand, late nights chasing release in the dark of my dorm, but being sheathed in Riley’s ass? It’s an entirely different beast—a sensation that sinks into my bones and sets my blood ablaze. I want to do it again. Soon. Tomorrow. Right now. The urge claws at me as I shift beneath him, my hands steady on his hips as I slowly lift him off my cock.
He slides free with a soft, wet sound, and the sudden bloom of his scent—syrupy roses and honey—spills into the room. It hits me like a drug, pulling me under until I’m entranced, completely lostin the Omega in my arms. It’s wrong, taboo—two Omegas tangled like this—but I can’t seem to care. The threat of getting caught, of Benjamin storming in with his sour citrus stench and his possessive glare no longer terrifies me. Something’s switched, a primal shift deep in my core, and now my sole focus is Riley—his safety, his pleasure, the way his breath fans softly against my neck.
I stare down at him, brushing the side of his face with my knuckles, his skin smooth and flushed beneath my touch. How did I get so lucky? To play out this fantasy I’ve nursed for months, watching him through that window, dreaming of him like this?
The fantasy is coming to an end though. I’ll need to leave, return to my dorm and let the golden Omega go, let him slip back into his world of music and expectations. But the thought of it—leaving him here, walking away—pains me, a physically sharp jolt in my chest that’s impossible to ignore.
Riley hums a soft sound before curling up tighter against me. “Ehm, I feel empty.” His voice is sleepy, slurred with exhaustion as he places a soft hand on my chest, looking up at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “If you’re thinking about leaving, don’t. I think my Omega claimed you as his already, and he wants a few more moments.”
I snort, a small, shaky laugh escaping me, and shake my head. “Is it weird that I don’t want to let you go?” My hands tighten on him, one sliding up his back, the other resting on his thigh.
Riley’s lips curve into a sweet, knowing smile. “No. That’s what it feels like to have a mate—to want to be with them every waking moment, to share their time, their bodies, their attention.”
I drop a kiss to his lips, lingering there, tasting the honeyed sweetness of him. “I think I’m going to get addicted to you,” I whisper against his mouth as my hand cups his cheek, my thumb brushing the curve of his jaw.
“I already am,” he purrs, his voice a husky confession that sends a shiver racing down my spine. His hand slides up my chest, tangling in the curls at the nape of my neck, dragging me into a kiss until we’re just there, holding each other, tasting each other. I’m loving every last bit of this, the way he tries to curl even closer or the way his little moans and whimpers seem to grow more insistent the longer he’s in my arms.
It’s like he’s fully embraced his instincts in a way I’ve never seen him with anyone else—like he enjoys being needy and I love it. Because I’m enjoying the idea of control, of drinking in those sweet kisses and touches and giving him attention, all the same.
Then a phone buzzes, cutting through the haze. Riley stiffens slightly, his lips pausing against mine. “Ignore it,” he murmurs and I do, sinking back into the kiss, my hand sliding up to cup his neck. But it buzzes again, louder this time, and he sighs, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against mine. “It’s probably a professor,” he says, his tone edged with frustration, “or Benjamin, or my mother, asking if I’m practicing again.”
I tilt my head, brushing my nose against his. “Why do you practice so much if you don’t like it?”
He shifts, his eyes flickering with something dark—resignation, maybe. “I love music. It’s my passion. But being forced into something I don’t want to be makes it hard to feel the emotion that comes with the notes.” He pulls away then, climbing off my lap, and I already hate the loss of him—the sudden absence of his warmth. I watch as he crosses the practice room, unashamedly bare, in contrast as I drag the blanket up over my lap.
