Page 4 of Forbidden Taste
“Well, clearly it’s not enough, becauseBenjaminmentioned you still aren’t able to finish the final piece. And now I find you lip-locked with that student—another Omega, no less.” Her eyes narrow. “Riley, you’ll be performing at the Karlen Center at the end of the semester. We can’t afford any setbacks. Now, what piece are we working on?”
I’m pissed off. All the professors feel like they’re worming their way into my life, just like my mother does—controlling, demanding, suffocating. I’ve been trying to get this damn piece right for months. I know the theory, the fundamentals, every note and rhythm. But when I hit that part, I can’t. Something’s blocking me, a wall I can’t break through. “We aren’t working on anything, Professor Jameson. I’ve been practicing for two hours. It’s also Friday,so it’s time for me to go to my nest and watch my show. Have a good weekend.”
“Riley…” Her tone warns me, Alpha authority dripping from it.
I know I’m about to overstep but I just can’t focus on the music right now. “It’s Mr. Hart,” I throw at her. “Just because my parents paid for this building doesn’t mean we’re friends.” My chest tightens as I hold her stare, tears prickling in my eyes again, the anger and exhaustion crashing together. I want out. Want my nest. Want Leo’s scent back, not her sterile perfume cutting through the room. When she doesn’t say anything, I slip past her and head for the Fairy Cove Apartments at the edge of the academy grounds.
Every Friday is the same. My favorite strawberry ice cream paired with whatever soap opera show I can find; the more sappiness, the better. But this time, it feels like someone will be missing.
three
LEO
I slip into my dorm, my heart slamming against my ribs as the door clicks shut behind me. My breath is coming in short, panicked bursts and I’m starting to freak the fuck out. Correction, I already am. The junior dorm wing for architecture and trades is quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos in my head.
My bare room greets me, colorless and devoid of any of thenormalOmega items everyone brings to school. All I have is the single full blanket draped over my bed with an extra few frills than a regular duvet. I’ve never minded it before, never needed anything else but now it all just feels wrong, too small, too empty, too… I don’t even fucking know.
I claw at my neck, nails dragging over flushed skin as my body overheats. Sweat beads on my forehead, panic overtaking my rational thought because I don’t know what’s happening.
Ripping off my shirt, I chuck it across the room, my jeans following and end up in a tangled heap on the floor. That only proves worse, the absence of Riley’s scent making me retrieve both items before crawling into the corner of my bed and stuffing my nose into the fabric. His rose and honey scent surrounds me, calming my nerves just slightly.
But then a whine escapes my throat, a raw and desperate sound I’ve never made before. I know enough about Omegas—hell, Iamone—that I understand the biology of what’s happening to me but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying. All of my friends have had their first heats, their first reactions to a scent so mouth watering that they needed to be filled afterwards, a visceral reaction to an Alpha or Beta… the list goes on.
The difference with me is that I’m not aching to be filled. I want to fuck Riley’s sweet little hole and hear him howling my name.
The scent of spiced apples explodes into the air as I war with my desires. I think about calling home, but what could they possibly say to help me in this situation? I take after my Omega father, Kieran, my twin brother and I sharing the same bulk but Kieran has never shared any of his first experiences. I know the memories are painful; no doubt in my mind that it would bring up moments he doesn’t want to relive.
My twin brother might be of help, but he’s off somewhere—free, wild, exploring the world while I’m stuck here. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to breathe through whatever this is but then I truly feel it. A deep, undeniable need coils low in my gut—to fuck something, to fill something. Riley’s face fills my thoughts, those beautiful doe eyes, those full lips parting as I kissed him. The little Omega pressed against me as I wrapped my arms around him…
“Shit,” I mutter to myself, scrambling off the bed, intent on heading to the bathroom for a much needed cold shower. I don’t realize until my hand’s on the doorknob that I’m naked and while this might be college, I won’t escape the ridicule of being an Omega with a knot.
My gaze drops, and my cock stares back—fully hard, thick, leaking, my knot twitching ever so slightly at the base of my cock. Hesitant, I reach down, my fingers brushing it, the touch drawing a hiss from me. It’s so sensitive, pulsing under my touch, my knot swelling the tiniest bit, wanting to fill something, to lock someone to me.
Confusion and uncertainty fill my chest as I give my cock another stroke, those emotions turning into desire. My hips buck into my grip, a low groan rumbling from my chest. I stroke again, harder, the heat of my palm slick with my own need. My breath hitches as I imagine Riley beneath me, his soft body yielding, his scent drowning me.
“I’m an Omega.” My voice is thick with need, rough with desire. “Why do I want this?” My thumb grazes the underside of my knot, a jolt of pleasure spearing through me. I gasp, my free hand clawing at the door as the fantasy of Riley completely takes over.
His lush body pinned to the door, thighs trembling as they lock around my waist. I thrust into him in my mind, slow and deep, his heat swallowing me whole. His scent floods my lungs, rich and intoxicating, a memory I’ve memorized down to the exact notes. My fist tightens, pumping in rhythm with the fantasy, and a guttural moan spills from my lips, echoing in the bare room.
In my head, Riley’s lips part, his tongue darting out to wet them as I sink deeper into his slick ass. My knees buckle and I slide down, the cool tile kissing my skin as I kneel. My thighs splay wide as I fuckmy hand harder, the slick movement of my hand filling the silence. My free hand presses flat to the floor, fingers splaying against the smooth surface, grounding me as my cock pulses. My knot is almost fully swollen, each graze of my hand as I stroke myself causing me to hasten my pace.
But then the rhythm changes, the need morphing into something else entirely. I arch my back, spine bowing, and a bead of sweat trails down my neck. Slick gathers around my hole, coating the inside of my thighs, a slow trickle that makes me gasp, my breath hitching in my throat. No one’s ever stirred me like this—needy and dominant, a primal clash that sets my blood ablaze.
As confused and terrified as I am, scared of what my body is trying to tell me, I can’t stop. I need this orgasm as much as I need to breathe. The fantasy shifts and changes, my body tensing—an Alpha behind me, his hands gripping my hips as he knots me. My hole clenches around nothing, craving the stretch, the fullness.
Another whimper makes it into the air, my desire torn between the two invisible forces—wanting to bury myself in Riley’s warmth and to be split open, filled to breaking. My hand moves faster, chasing the edge as I cry out, a ragged, pleading sound that bounces off the walls. I come hard, ropes of cum spilling over my fist and dripping to the floor in thick strands. My knot pulses, locked tight in my grip, and I tremble through the aftershocks, pleasure so sharp it borders on pain.
I push myself to my feet on shaky legs, shame slowly creeping back in as the haze clears. I grab the wipes from the nightstand by my bed, slowly cleaning myself up before climbing back onto my bed and surrounding myself with my discarded clothes, Riley’s scent still lingering.
How can I want both? To knot Riley, to sink into him, and to be knotted, claimed,owned? And even then, I don’t want to submit. I just need… fuck, I don’t know what I need but I do know what I want. My knot throbs faintly, a cruel reminder of my strange body. An Omega shouldn’t crave this. Riley—sweet, perfect Riley—how could he want me?
That thought swirls around in my head until I pass out, dreaming of a world where my size would be welcomed rather than despised.
four
RILEY
Mounds of pillows cradle my small form, the softness of each one picked out with perfection. It’s a mass of pinks and yellows and one green one because it reminds me of apples. My shirt is wrapped around my neck, draped over my nose, Leo’s scent firmly embedded into the cotton. Spiced apples flood my senses, my eyes glued to the small screen perched at the edge of my nest. Some TV show flickers on, the woman’s voice trembling as she proclaims her love to her crush.
