The Arrangement (Omegas of Hunter's Point Book 1)

Chapter 22

(This scene still under active revision.)

Damian took her mouth - boldly - thrusting his tongue past her teeth, a preview of things to come. She drew her nails across his scalp. He shivered at the tingling sensation that dissipated at his shoulders. Before he knew it, his hand was moving of its own accord to cup and caress the rounded perfection of one breast. The fingers on his scalp slowed. His thumb circled the pebbling circumference of her baby pink areola making successively smaller circles on each pass until it rolled the nub of her nipple, which grew instantly firm. The fingers on his scalp flexed, then gripped him by the hair, directing him, daring him to take her nipple in his mouth. His kisses blazed a trail down her body: neck, chest. She gasped as his tongue found her flesh, making the same circles his fingers had. When his teeth closed on the delicate bud, she shuddered and moaned. The heady musk of her slick pervaded the space between them.

He smiled, knowing without looking that her pupils were likely totally blown. "You'll have to tell me if you need me to stop."

Her insistent fist pressed him greedily to her breast. "No," she sighed, licking her lips. "No stopping. We don't do that here."

His lips trailed lower still - stomach, abdomen. He knelt on the floor, positioning the bottoms of her thighs on his shoulders so his arms came over the apexes, keeping his hands free to spread her. The smooth curtains of her labia parted, revealing the rose-colored recesses of her entrance. He'd start there, he decided, using his tongue to whorl and tease. She moaned, raising her hips, seeking more, her entrance clenching closed to bear down on the nonexistent member inside her.

"Patience, my unicorn," he rumbled, archly.

That rumble had been closer to his call than he'd realized. A warm stream of slick trickled into his mouth, the intense flavor of her bombarding his senses, making his head buzz. He lapped it up, greedily, ensuring not a single droplet escaped.

"Tell me what you want," he prompted.

"I want you," she panted, breathlessly. "I want you." Her fingertips brushed the pearl which had descended from its fleshy hood, needy and attention starved.

His tongue, thus directed, found its new mission. He licked, touched, and teased. As his tongue busied itself, he slid confident fingers inside her, rubbing the slick walls of her passage in confident strokes, giving her something her body could clamp down on.

In their short time together, it had become very clear to him that Von didn't trust his words. He could tell her all day long how beautiful she was, how much he cared about her, how pleased he was that she'd agreed to stay with him. She would acknowledge his statements, but in her heart, words were meaningless. He'd gathered that she'd been let down too many times by people who had spoken pretty words, then rejected her or failed her when it mattered. She needed actions. So, he endeavored to come through. He paid skilled homage to her with tongue and fingers, worshipping at her alter, demonstrating to her just how much he valued her: valued her well-being, valued her pleasure, valued her company.

Helpless little sounds emerged from the writhing omega on the bed. Each one sent a jolt through him to settle low, making his balls ache with his need to be inside her, buried deep and wringing more helpless little sounds from her. But he'd need to be patient, too. The experience would be all the better for her so long as he took the proper time to prepare her body, to make sure that when he did enter her, when she accepted his knot, she didn't tear.

"Damian!" Von arched back.

A fresh rush of slick gushed around his fingers as she clamped down and cried out. Licking delectable taste of her off one finger at a time, he rose to his feet. Von lay spent, flushed and panting, arms limp. His alpha rumbled. He'd satisfied the omega, well. But he wasn't done, yet.