Page 24 of Feeling the Heat: Part One
Granted, all of those someones have been cis women, but dicks are a lot less nuanced and I’ve got decades of hands-onexperience with my own. Plus, I know where the prostate is. I’d be fine.
Camille’s glistening pink pussy and her scent are making my mouth water, but I don’t dive right in to eating her out. She’s in heat, so we need to skip a good chunk of foreplay, but I’m still going to do what I can to build her up.
I stroke her spread thighs in a light caress a few times, letting her get used to my touch. Though, maybe that’s more for me than her, because she’s had no problem with my hands on her since the moment we met. I just love how soft her skin is. I enjoy feeling the slight texture of the faint pale stripes that mark it, too.
Camille lets out a frustrated huff and spreads her thighs wider, a clear invitation to touch her somewhere else. I increase the pressure, kneading into the plush flesh of her thick thighs and letting my thumbs drag close to where she’s dripping for me without touching her pussy.
Fuck, Camille is sexy.
I’ve always had a thing for slightly older women. Not a mommy kink or anything like that—though I’d be lying if I said it wouldn’t be hot as fuck if she decides to take the reins further into the heat. Shit, is it a mommy kink?
I suppress a shudder at the thought. Nope, I just like hot, mature women.
And thicker women. And redheads.
So yeah, she’s fucking sexy. No wonder Ambrose lost his shit over her.
“This has got to be the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” I murmur, gazing down between her thighs. It’s the absolute truth, but I also want to test if she’s any more comfortable with praise now that we’re naked.
Her cheeks flush a deeper pink and sheshakes her head at me, thighs pulling together slightly. “I doubt that. You’ve seen a lot of pussies.”
Making a mental note that she’s not comfortable with compliments yet, I grin back at her and change tactics. “None of those pussies looked like they could take my cock so well. You’re made to be fucked, aren’t you?”
Camille’s breath hitches and her perfume grows stronger. “Yes. Please. Fuck me.”
Mmm, she likes that.
“Not yet. I’m in charge, remember?” I chuckle and shake my head, palming one of her breasts and watching her reaction as I thumb her nipple. Her eyelashes flutter with pleasure, which is good because there’s no way I could resist playing with tits as spectacular as hers.
I groan at how perfect she feels in my hand. If she wasn’t in heat, I’d want to spend at least an hour exploring every soft, luscious inch of her body, but she’ll be in pain if I wait too long to give her a knot.
“Y-yes,” she murmurs, gaze growing molten.
Camille likes being reminded that I’m in control, and I have no problem using that to my advantage.
I slip my hand down to cup her pussy, and she rocks her hips up to meet my touch with a gentle moan. The heat of her pussy against my palm is intense and my eyes squeeze shut as I imagine how good it’s going to feel to be inside her.
I lock eyes with her. “This is mine.”
The words are meant to turn Camille on, but they’re accompanied by a surge of genuine possessiveness inside my chest.
Whoa, what the hell is that about?
I’ve worked dozens of heats with many omegas, and not once have I wanted to claim them as mine. Betas don’t have the samepossessive instincts that alphas do, so why would I? I’ve gotten pretty good at mimicking those behaviors since sometimes they’re needed to soothe an omega, but it’s always been an act.
Camille is different. Her scent makes my head fuzzy with how good it is, and now I’m thinking of her as mine.
It’s stupid, but there’s a small part of me that wonders if late-revealing alphas are a thing, too.Hopingthat it’s a thing. After all the time I’ve spent coming to terms with my designation, I hate that the idea is exciting.
I know for certain I’m a beta. My parents did a bunch of genetic testing when I was younger, because they assumed I’d be an alpha, given my size and temperament. Every genetic marker that would indicate a potential alpha designation was absent.
Camille whines, and I shake away those thoughts.
Now is not the time to get all introspective and shit. I’m sure the strange feelings she’s evoking are nothing more than normal attraction.
“Hmm, how should I make you come first?”
Camille’s plush lips part to answer me, no doubt to tell me to use my cock, but I shake my head at her. “Rhetorical question, gorgeous.”
