Page 24 of In Deep
I start to walk, but he grabs my wrist. His eyes are dark as night, his jaw set.
“Let me show you the rest of the house, Omega.”
It’s an order. One I don’t want to refuse. I’m skittish and scared. But I also want this. My body’s wanted this for weeks. I can no longer resist. So, I let him lead me up the wide staircase, knowing where we’re going, understanding what this means, ignoring the rooms downstairs, and walking down another hallway to a room at the back of the house.
“My room,” he tells me as he opens the door.
The room is large. Framed movie posters line the walls and there’s a gaming desk set up in one corner, surrounded by piles of medical textbooks. A sofa and TV stand in another. Then there’s the bed.
“You’re wet, little Omega, so fucking wet. Let me taste.”
His voice is almost a whine, and I’m not surprised. We are what we are after all, and we’ve been fighting against this need to take things further. Forcing ourselves to go slow.
I want this, I want him. Yet, I’m also afraid. Afraid he’ll learn the truth about me and this will all come to a screeching halt.
I back up against the door, my hands behind my back, locking on the handle.
He watches me, and the lust in his eyes is overtaken by concern.
“Are you scared?” he asks me. “You know I would never hurt you. I’d never pressure you into doing something if you didn’t want to. We can go find the key to the boathouse and go to the river instead if–”
“I’m broken,” I confess. “This isn’t going to work out how you think it will.”
He steps closer, lifting my chin to look at him. “What do you mean?”
But I can’t meet his eyes. They’re too intense, and I’m already a mess for him.
“I can’t come,” I whisper, ashamed of the truth.
“And what does that mean?”
“You won’t be able to make me orgasm,” I whisper even more quietly. This is it. I’ve been putting off this moment, holding back the truth, but now he knows.
He’s silent. I hear the slight pant of our breaths and footsteps somewhere in this giant house. I can’t look at him.
“You’ve never come?”
I want to turn around and bury my face against the door. I don’t want him to discover the truth. To learn the truth, and discard me.
“Omega,” he says more gently when I don’t respond. “Are you telling me you’ve never come?” He strokes his thumb along my jawline.
“I … I’ve never come with anyone else.”
“But you’ve come? You can make yourself come?”
I squirm with embarrassment. “Yes.”
“Talking about this makes you uncomfortable?” he asks.
I nod, my eyes flicking briefly to his. There’s no amusement or disgust, just concern.
“You know, the thought of you pleasuring yourself is a huge turn on. You think I haven’t fantasised about you doing that? That I haven’t got myself off to the thought of you getting yourself off.”
I shiver hard, and he lifts my chin higher, forcing my gaze back to his. I’ve come plenty of times imagining him. Every time we’ve been together, he’s left me a needy ball of frustration. Frustration I’ve had to release or I’d combust.
“I said we’d take this slow, but I’m finding it fucking hard to wait.”
“I don’t want to wait,” I gasp.
