“Alpha,” I cry, “Alpha!”
“You want to come, Baby Girl? Then come for me.”
I tear at the sheets, panting for air, gasping every time his wet tongue hits my clit. Hits it again and again and again and …
I scream, my spine rigid, the orgasm ripping from my core and blasting through my body. The world blinds white. The air stops in my lungs.
I’m nowhere, nowhere, suspended in nothing.
And then I fall back down, sparks flying through me as he laps at me, not giving way even when I place both hands on his scalp and push him.
He growls at me, his hands tightening on my thighs.
“No,” he says. “I’m not done, not done yet.”
“Ohhh,” I moan, that rushing sensation stirring, building in my core. “I’m going to come again,” I mutter.
“Yeah you are, Baby Girl, going to gush all over my face, going to drown me in it so I can lap every drop from this sweet-smelling pussy of yours.”
His words are as filthy as what he’s doing to me and I’ve never been so turned on. This isn’t how it’s meant to be between omegas and alphas is it? We’re their fuck toys. A possession to be rutted and knotted. And hell that’s what I wanted when I chose to come here, to be with him through this heat. I’m not a fool. I know it’s preferable to going it alone.
But this? This is more pleasure than I’ve ever known before.
“I’m com–I’m com– Fuuuuucccckkkk!” I scream as it happens all over again.
“That’s it, pretty Omega, come all over my face. Like a good girl. Like a good little omega for your alpha.”
And I do. I gush all over him, slick flowing from my cunt too, the bed wet beneath me.
It should be excruciatingly embarrassing, but he purrs with such contentment as he licks me clean, I feel … proud.
No man has ever been into me like this.
Maybe instead of fighting with each other for the last year, we should’ve been doing this instead.
I think that’s going to be it. He promised me an orgasm, and he’s given me two earth-shattering, mind-rearranging ones.
But he’s not done. He’s not done with me at all. He’s going for round three.
There’s no way I’m stopping him.
* * *
He gives me more orgasms in the space of an hour than I’ve had in whole relationships before.
When he’s finally done with me, I’m a wreck, tossing around on the surf and left limp and half-drowned on the rocks.
I have no voice left and no energy to move. He stumbles to his feet, wiping his hand over his face, glistening with my juices and his spit.
I’m so exhausted I don’t even have the energy to close my legs and his eyes flutter down from my face back to where he’s been feasting.
For a moment, I think he’ll dive straight back in, but he stands there staring instead.
“You taste so fucking good, Omega,” he tells me.
“Hmmm,” I manage to mutter in response. “Will you fuck me now?”
“Uh uh, not yet. We have a deal.”