Page 31 of Rocked By the Alpha
Finally, the ticking minutes, crawl by and it’s 2pm. The exact time she’d told him to show up. He waits another seven, his body aching from the effort of keeping himself in the car. Then he parks up, and trying to shake away the tension, he slides out of the car, grabbing his duffel bag from the passenger’s seat.
He dawdles up to the door in case she’s watching and slides his shades off his head, pressing the buzzer.
“Hello?” comes a breathy voice, one heavy with arousal. Has her heat already started? Why didn’t she tell him to get here sooner?
“It’s me,” he says. Then adds, “West.”
“Alpha?” she mutters.
“Yes, Omega, it’s me. Let me in.” He shuffles from foot to foot, twisting the shades in his hand.
The door buzzes and he slams through the doorway, immediately hit by Omega scent so heady for a split second he forgets who he is and what he’s doing.
He drops the bag and the shades clatter on the floor. He swings his gaze about. The Omega isn’t here. He growls in irritation, her aroma already making him hard.
“Omega,” he calls. But no voice calls in return, only the faint, distant sound of someone whimpering.
He bolts up the stairs, chasing her scent.
He knows where her bedroom is but the scent leads him somewhere else, down the landing to a back room. The door hangs ajar; the room dark.
“Omega?” he says, pushing back the door.
“Alpha,” she splutters out the word, and he catches sight of her in the dim light. She’s curled up on top of a giant mattress that takes up the whole floor, cushions and blankets scattered around her. Her back rests against the wall and she hugs her knees, rocking backward and forward. Her hair is scraped up into a high bun, damp with sweat, and more sweat rolls down her bare torso. She’s wearing only panties.
He’s beside her in three quick strides, crouching down and wrapping her in his arms.
“Shhhh, Omega,” he whispers, “shush now, I’m here, aren’t I?”
Her teeth rattle together and she looks at him with glassy eyes. “Need … you … Alpha,” she says.
A light breeze from an open window flutters the curtain and around her, pillows are discarded and a dildo protrudes from a tangled blanket. He wants to pick it up and throw it out the window.
Instead, he rests his palm flat against her collarbone and pushes her down to the mattress until she’s lying on her back. Then he digs his fingers into the waistband of her panties and snatches them down her thighs, enough so he can gain access to her sweet-smelling pussy. It gleams with slick, so wet he could probably swim through it.
He swipes a finger through the mess and she bucks, moaning at this simplest of touch.
“Why the fuck didn’t you call me, Omega? I’d have come sooner. You didn’t need to suffer like this.”
“It came on suddenly,” she says, raising her hips and attempting to chase his hand. “I … couldn’t …” Her words are swallowed by a series of moans as he cups her sex and presses her back down against the floor.
“Next time, you call me immediately, understood?”
“Y-y-yes.” She revolves her hips, trying to rub against his palm and grant herself some friction.
He removes his hand and the slick trails in ribbons between his fingers. “Look at you. You’re a fucking feast.”
Resting a palm on either thigh, he presses her open, forcing the lips of her sex to part and show him everything. She’s so swollen and pink it’s obscene. He takes a minute just to appreciate the sight of her open on a plate for him like that, ignoring the ache in his balls and the throb in his gland.
“Alpha,” she moans. Her hands scrabble at him, clearly desperate for him to do something.
He lowers his chin. His nose and his mouth hover directly above her folds and he watches as more slick comes pouring from her pussy in pulsations. Inhaling deeply, he allows that heavenly aroma to hit every nerve along his nose, in his mouth and down his throat. Her little nub protrudes from its hood and it quivers in excitement, tempting him. He doesn’t know where to start.
“Please,” she cries, “please!”
He shakes himself out of his trance. His Omega needs him. He’s here for her. Not his own damn perversions and fascinations. She needs an orgasm to relieve the pain and she needs one now.
He flicks his tongue against the nub and she screams so loud, her hips bucking, he thinks the whole street — the whole goddamn city — must hear her.
