Page 53 of In Doubt
“It’s alright,” I tell her, reaching out and gently touching the curve of her back, lifting her through the water towards the surface. Her arms settle and her wide eyes land back on me.
“Alright?” I repeat. It’s far too sexual, her laid out beneath me, dressed in only this bikini. My cock stirs in my shorts.
“Uh huh,” she says, although her voice sounds tight.
“Just relax. I’ve got you. Straighten out your body, tip back your head, and spread your legs.”
Her eyes grow wide in alarm. “It will help you float,” I say with a wink.
She rolls her eyes at me but to my delight does as I tell her. It feels fucking amazing to have this omega balancing on the palm of my hand, floating below me. Far more erotic than I realised it would be. I’m a fucking creep. A fucking creep who can’t help but enjoy the view. That bikini, all wet and clingy and the tight little bud of her nipple, clear through the material.
Fuuucccckkkk!
What I’d give to capture that between my teeth!
“How does that feel?” I ask her, my voice more husky than I’d like it to sound.
“OK,” she says, still looking nervous.
“I’m going to remove my hand then.”
“Oh,” she squeaks.
“I’ll be right here if you sink.” I sweep my thumb across the flesh of her back, reassuring her, her skin goosepimpling at my touch. “On the count of three, alright? One … two …” I slip my hand away.
Immediately her body stiffens, and she sinks through the water, her eyes growing wide in panic. I catch her with my palm and float her back to the surface.
“It’s alright. I’m right here like I promised.”
“I’m not sure about this,” She screws up her face.
“Just relax. Don’t go all rigid like that. Let your limbs float, your body float, and then you will too. OK?”
“OK,” she chimes, not looking convinced at all.
“Good girl.” Hey, I know I’m pushing my luck but it was too damn tempting. Her eyes dart to mine and I smile down at her. “Let’s go.”
I remove my hand and this time she forces herself to relax, a little crease of concentration forming between her bows. “That’s it,” I tell her, beaming down at her. She bites her tongue between her teeth as she bobs up and down on the surface. Then she swings her legs down and lands on her feet.
“Well done.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “It wasn’t that hard really.”
I wink at her. “No, I told you it wasn’t. And now if you ever fall into the water, you’ll know how to float.” She nods. “But,” I add. “You should learn to swim.”
She rolls her eyes. “Maybe one day.”
“If you were my omega, I’d insist.”
Her shoulders stiffen. “Insist?”
“Insist,” I repeat, holding her irritated gaze and I swear she shivers a little despite herself. Omegas can protest all they like that they want things their way. That they want an equal footing with an alpha. And I’m all for that. But sometimes appealing to those primitive instincts to submit, to obey, can be fun. Especially in the bedroom.
And the more time I spend with this omega, the more I want her in my arms and in my bed. The more I find I’m falling for her. Bright, beautiful and witty. I can’t help myself.
If only I can convince Jake our bed is where she belongs.
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