Page 59 of Single Omega Dad
Every night we ended up in my big, purple-draped bed with the candles lit and dancing golden shadows on the walls. Mathias stayed later and later with me, but always left before the sun came up. I was sure by now it was because he was being polite and not because he wanted to leave me.
But he never knotted me.
Usually, Alphas knotted during their Burns. That was a given. But they could also knot outside the Burn if circumstances were right, and if they had strong feelings for their partner.
Most especially it happened if a bond was beginning to form. Alphas could not resist attempts to grow the bond, or even finalize it, through knotting.
Drayden had knotted me often, including before we married, but the intimacy between us, instead of increasing with time, began to decay about a year after our marriage, degree by degree.
Maybe Mathias thought differently about such matters. Or maybe he didn’t feel the same things I felt. Though in bed it didn’t seem like it. He cupped my swelling belly in a proprietary and gentle manner. He made sure I was satisfied every time, both ways, giving me internal and external orgasms. At times he held me so tightly I almost couldn’t breathe.
He told me I was beautiful.
We’d started to text. Finally. Little things throughout the day.
Me:Do you like spaghetti? If so, drop by tonight in time for dinner.
Mathias:Do you like pizza? I can bring pizza so you don’t have to cook.
Me:When you get here today, hopefully don’t mind the mess. The boys have been spectacularly rambunctious today.
Mathias:Lunch with pompous asses, friends of my father. I miss you.
These texts were, in their own way, also intimate by my definition. The one day Mathias said he missed me, my heart nearly shattered into a hundred pieces.
I had fallen for him, but I didn’t dare say it to his face. By nature, he was not verbose, which to me meant he lived behind a lot of walls he’d built up over time. A hardened man could be the most sensitive when confronted. I feared I’d chase him away if I were too forceful.
But sometimes, after we’d orgasmed together a couple of times, and lay drowsy in each other’s arms, we would speak.
Mathias asked me once, as if hinting toward more of a future between us, “When you were married, what did you do with the kids during your husband’s Burns?”
I loved when he asked me personal questions. I wanted to be as open as I could with him. “Sometimes they went with my in-laws to stay a couple days. Or we’d hire a nanny and we’d get a hotel room.”
“Oh.”
I longed to ask him for a knot, but some instinct inside me held me back. And that silver cock-ring—it was always there.
I asked him about his brothers. He would talk about one called Trigg, but not about the other, though I knew he was called Kris.
“Trigg,” he said, “is a far more decent human being than I am. He’s stuck by me. Even when I don’t deserve it.”
“What makes you think you don’t deserve it?” I asked.
Mathias tilted his head back on the pillow, his muscular arm still under my neck, his other hand palm down over my belly. “I told you. I’m not the good guy.”
For a moment I kept my words to myself. This repeat confession came slow and awkward, and out my peripheral vision I saw him staring up at my ceiling unblinking.
In my experience growing up surrounded by people, by Omegas of all ages, when someone made a statement like that it was because they regretted some action. Usually it was something like lying, cheating, stealing. Or hurting another.
I turned in the bed to lay my head along his upper arm. His hand slid over my side and down to my hip, making my very spent cock throb. Damn, but I could not get enough of him.
I watched his flat, dark chest rise and fall, his brown nipples still hard from our enthusiastic lovemaking.
I reached out and ran my hand over his taut, curved pec. “I want you anyway,” I said softly. “Despite that. Including that. All of you.”
He took a few breaths. The last one came out in little bursts. “I’m not good at talking about stuff like this.”
“I know.”
