Page 29 of The Mating Game
And I’m not talking about a little, I’m talking about soaked underwear and a throbbingneedthat seems to hit me out of nowhere, making everything below the waist positivelypulsewith want.
“How?” I groan as I bundle up Hunter’s coat and shove my nose deeper into it.
The nice doctor in the ER certainly never mentionedthis.
For the most part, we just have to let it run its course.
Run its course, my ass.
I revel in the utter relief that is Hunter’s coat, struck with the sudden urge to seek relief of a different kind. The need to touch myself is overwhelming, and before I realize what I’m doing, my hand is slipping into my sweatpants, my fingertips skimming over my lower abdomen and tucking into my underwear. I hiss when they glide through the moisture between my legs, which is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. It’s not like my usual arousal. No, this is something altogether different. More copious, more viscous, and somehow just…slicker.
But the momentary relief I feel when my fingertips glide over my wet clit is palpable, and my lips part on a silent cry as I circle the swollen bud. Suddenly all I can think about is coming, and withthat in mind, I start to work my wrist, teasing and stroking myself as the cramps in my belly turn to a more pleasant simmer.
“Fuck,” I groan.
Is this really what Ada has to deal with?
And you too now.
I clutch Hunter’s coat to my nostrils as I roll onto my back, the smell of him somehow making my touches more potent, more enjoyable. It’s like his scent is giving me a high, making my skin tingle and my pussy clench. Even as I shake with an orgasm that is satisfying but somehow still not enough, I feel myself slipping into some sort of delirium, one that begs me to somehow get more of it.
Or, better yet, get it straight from the source.
A more rational part of my brain screams that this is a terrible idea—I’m even a little terrified by these current events—but that thought is lost to the rhythmic chanting that’s taken up somewhere in my hindbrain, one that shouts that there’s someone nearby who can make this feeling go away, that he can make itbetter. I don’t know where it comes from or what it really means, but before I can question it, I’m on my feet and stomping to my door.
Hunter’s coat is abandoned on my bedroom floor, but my needy body isn’t even perturbed by this, because it seems to know what I’m after. It seems to recognize that in a few moments, it will have something much better. Or at least I hope so.
I barely register that I’m beating on Hunter’s door; I have no idea what time it is or how long has passed since I saw him, but it’s fully dark outside now, so I have to assume a little while. He doesn’t answer at first, but I can see a shadow under the door, and the sight of it makes me even giddier, the anticipation in my blood actuallysinging.
I pound again, and when the door wrenches open moments laterto reveal a wet-haired, shirtless Hunter Barrett looking like sex and sin, with his dark smattering of chest hair and his abs that look like I could wash clothes on them, I think I actually let out awhimper.
“Hunter.”
He looks at me for a long moment with shock in his features, and I can tell by the widening of his eyes that heknows. He knows what’s wrong with me.And maybe, my fevered brain whispers with delight,maybe he’s going to make it better.
“Tess?”
Jesus, hisvoice. Was it always this deep?
“Don’t feel good,” I tell him. “Hurt.”
He sucks in a breath when I fall into him and rub my cheek against his chest hair, brushing my fingers over his stomach to tease the hard muscle there. He feels like heaven against me, and I loop my arms around his neck and tug myself up, having the strangest urge to lick his neck.
“How are you—Jesus, Tess.”
Okay, so I definitely licked his neck. That is a thing I just did.
“You smell so good,” I murmur into his throat, running the flat of my palm down the center of his chest, gliding it over one of his nipples as he gasps. “Why do you smell so good?”
“I think you’re in heat,” he says through gritted teeth. “Fuck, this is exactly what I was talking about.”
It seems surreal. I’ve known I was an omega for an entireday. How can I already be in heat?
Maybe if I wasn’t so concerned with the possibility of dropping to my knees and wrestling Hunter out of his sweatpants so I can see what his dick looks like, I might have a better answer to that question. As it is, my brain is still hung up on the promise of the aforementioned dick.
His massive hand wraps around my wrist even as I’m going for that particular prize, tightening his grip. This also turns me on for reasons I can’t explain. He’s just sobig. Was he always this big?
“We can’t,” he says. “You don’t know what you’re doing right now.”
