Unbalanced Omega (Alpha Elite Series Book 3)

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Unbalanced Omega (Alpha Elite Series Book 3) Page 10

by V T Bonds


  “Dirk?” her shaky voice asks.

  “Yes, Little One?” I respond, pushing the hem of the shirt higher up her leg as I stroke closer to her dripping center.

  “Can we do that again?”

  My chuckle causes her to bounce against my chest, and I can’t help but wrap my arms around her and pull her close.

  “There’s more I want to do to you, but yes. Each thing will involve that,” I whisper, my lips brushing the shell of her ear.

  “Promise?” she says with a shiver.

  Her heart still thumps against my arm, a rapid tattoo much quicker than my own.

  “Promise.”

  After giving her a little while to recover, I unwrap one arm from around her and grab the unopened water bottle from the table. When I let go with my other arm to twist open the bottle, tiny fingers wrap around my wrist.

  “No, don’t let go. Please. Hold me tight.”

  The thickness in her voice carries desperation, her heart increasing its pace again. Her ribs expand on a fearful breath, and I war against my instincts to toss her onto the bed and alleviate her worries with my cock.

  I clamp my arm back around her, giving her the assurance she needs.

  “You need water, Shya. Reach up and open the bottle,” I instruct.

  Watching her fragile hands work next to mine causes profound delight to flow from me, and her resounding happiness through our bond pulls my mouth into a grin.

  Only she can make me smile while arousal eats me up from the inside, my dick kicking angrily at being denied.

  Once she holds the bottle cap in her fist, I lift the drink to her mouth, watching with rapt attention as she positions her lips around the opening. I tip the bottom, enjoying the way her throat works as it swallows down the little sips she takes.

  When she pulls back as though she’s done, I trap her in place by pinning her head to my chest with the bottle against her lips.

  “More. Drink at least half the bottle,” I demand, knowing once we leave this chair I won’t stop exploring her body until we’re both replete.

  Her wide eyes meet mine, the angle making it seem as though she’s hanging upside down. The pink orbs electrify my nerves, the impatient member in my shorts spurting at the intensity of her sweetness.

  She gulps down mouthful after mouthful, her open expression fulfilling my need to dominate.

  Everything Alpha in me preens at her obedience, and I ache to give her what we both crave. The urge to give in to my instincts grows to an unprecedented level, and I delve into her eyes, soaking up her preciousness as a deterrent.

  I know my stall tactics will only work for so long. She’s too pure to hold myself back from for much longer.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Shya

  I don’t know how much I’ve taken from the bottle, but if he doesn’t let me up soon, my stomach may burst. The simple act of drinking became so much more at his command. Following his control feels natural. Right.

  It is meant to be.

  I’d have no problem drinking until my stomach popped, if that’s what he wanted, but I don’t think it is. He’s been so careful with me.

  Except for when he bit me.

  And when he filled me with his fingers.

  No one has ever touched me with such need. Despite his roughness, I want more.

  I swallow another bit of water, thankful when he pulls the drink away and lifts it to his own mouth.

  Despite my nerves still tingling from my first true orgasm, the sight of his throat bobbing as he guzzles the rest of the water makes my insides throb as though I’ve never found release before. When he lowers the empty container and sets it on the table, my insides quiver at the leashed power in his movements.

  His eyes turn back to mine, and I know I’d do anything he asked, no matter the consequences.

  My heart beats in his chest. I want his in mine.

  Slick drips from me, the aching in my womb displacing any discomfort from his thick fingers.

  A whine slips from my throat, and his blue eyes deepen as he fills his lungs with my scent.

  “Fix our nest, Little One. Hurry, my control wears thin,” he urges, letting me go and clinging to the bottom of the seat.

  I mourn the loss of his warmth, uncertain if I’ll be able to leave the pleasure of his lap.

  “Now, Shya,” he growls, the command amplified through our link, pushing me across the room before I even realize I’ve moved.

  I catch sight of the ruined nest and growl. My hard work destroyed by forces beyond either of our control. This won’t do. No, if my nest is to be wrecked, it’ll be because my lifemate deemed it so. It’ll be because we claimed each other, body and soul.

  The lack of my mark on his body sends a discordant note through me, giving weight to my feminine growl. An invisible nudge through our link pushes me forward, and I sink down into the bed.

  I don’t have the patience to start from scratch. Instead, I bunch the top layer to the corner, smooth out the layer we’ll lay on, fluff a few pillows, and start tossing blankets back on top.

  When I step back, I berate myself.

  No, I can’t handle the wrinkles, and Dirk shouldn’t have to make do with a second-rate nest. I dive back in, fixing the crinkles until every surface is soft and smooth. Still between the layers, I crawl to the bottom and shove pillows closer to the wall, making sure my lifemate will have more room than before. Testing it out, I lay on my back and spread my arms and legs as far as they go, deciding it is ready.

  Folding the top back with a crisp line, I expect him to still be in the chair.

  Nope.

  He towers over the edge of the bed, blown pupils staring down at me, arms held stiffly at his sides. He stands as still and silent as a statue, his underwear barely managing to contain his straining cock.

  His scent smacks into my sinuses, and the distance between us hurts. My mouth waters at his amazing fragrance, my slick pooling under me and wetting the bed. Unsure of what he wants next, I groan and purr, too worked up to wait in silence.

  I want to meet his gaze but find the view of his shorts too distracting. He needs to tell me what to do before I make too much of a mess in our nest.

  “Invite me in, Shya.” His impossibly deep voice grates along my nerves, the sensation too wonderful for words. The shirt surrounding me becomes a nuisance, too soft to stimulate my nipples in the way I need and barring my mate from enjoying my body.

  “I need you, Dirk. Now,” I plead, done with our half bond. Too aroused to be patient.

  “I know, but that isn’t permission. Use your manners and invite me in,” he snarls, the rigid set of his muscles and tight tone telling me he’s just as done with waiting as I am.

  I snap, my self-control gone.

  “Get in here. Now!”

  The second the outburst leaves my lips mortification burns through me. He’s been more patient and kind than anyone else has ever been to me, and I repay him by being snappish and demanding.

  Tears fill my eyes, and I shrink in on myself, mad and sad that I’d be so nasty to him.

  Without warning, his heat engulfs me, his movements so full of prowess I missed them through the flames in my veins and the upset in my heart.

  “Hush, Little One. I have you.”

  His voice is barely more than a rumble, reaching deep into my soul and caressing my upset away, only for his new words to begin a new kind of turmoil in my body.

  “I like you fierce and demanding. Tell me, what else do you want?” he says, lifting me onto his chest as he settles on his back.

  My cheeks heat a bit at the picture that pops into my head, but his nearness overrides any thought of shyness.

  “To touch you. All of you,” I squeak before folding the top layer of nest over us, shutting us into a world of our own.

  I let instincts guide me to where I want to be. My hands glide down his chest as I crawl backwards, the smell coming from his shorts too heady to ignore.

  I saw w
hat he did earlier, after he took his fingers from inside me. The way his tongue lapped at his hand had been animalistic and thrilling.

  If I can get half the pleasure from tasting him as he did me, then I’ll have no regrets.

  If I can please him as much as I was pleased at seeing him enjoy my flavor, then I’ll do this as often as he’ll let me.

  When I reach his waistband, I can’t help but glance up at his face, worried about what he thinks. Even with his pleasure flowing through our bond, I need the visual encouragement to take the next step.

  His blown eyes hold so much desire it makes my stomach drop, the restraint he shows beyond reason. I see his need to conquer and claim, yet he holds still, letting me explore his body.

  Letting me lead my first pleasurable sexual encounter.

  Gratitude swells in my chest, resting alongside the lava coursing through me. With every inhale the need to taste him grows, eating away at my dropped stomach with such hunger it peels my eyes from his face.

  I hook my fingers under his waistband, biting my lip as he lifts his hips so I can slide it down. Even that small movement displays his iron will, the strength in each of his muscles more than I possess in my entire body.

  As I slide them down, his thick member pushes against the fabric, making it tricky to peel away from his skin. Once I scoot my bottom closer to his ankles, I finally have the room to drag it to his knees. His shaft springs free, the movement surprising me. I stare for a moment, too startled for thought, but then the mouthwatering scent fills my nose and I have no room for hesitation.

  Leaving his underpants around his knees, I bolt up his legs and grasp him with both hands. His hiss ricochets through my ears, but my tongue laps at the bead of moisture at his tip before I can react.

  Sounds become colors. Flavors become lifelines. Emotions become entire universes. The taste of him steals all thoughts except for one.

  More.

  Reveling in the bunching of his thighs under my butt, I inspect him with my mouth, surprised to find him velvety soft and smooth. The hard steel between my hands causes tremors in my core, and the molten lava coursing through my veins bubbles and swirls hotter. The ridge near the top of his shaft makes his entire body flinch when I flick my tongue over it and, mesmerized, I lick the entire way around. The resulting pearly liquid dripping from his tip gets quickly gobbled up, my chest twinging from the force of my purr. I latch my lips around what I can, running my taste buds over the slit in his tip over and over.

  Feeling left out, my hands start moving, testing his resilience and exploring every inch of him. They enjoy his silky skin and thick girth, marveling at his masculinity and size.

  My slick coats his legs, and on instinct I swipe my hands through it, bringing them back to his length and stroking from his base to my lips. I can’t bring myself to take my mouth off him, even when a big surge of liquid nearly chokes me. I swallow it down, lapping and stroking and urging him to give me more.

  More.

  Humongous hands gather my hair, and I fear he means to make me stop, so I tighten my grip and increase my suction.

  “Fuck, Shya, your mouth is too perfect,” his low voice vibrates into my unsatisfied places, making my cravings intensify.

  He pulses in my grasp, releasing more deliciousness into my mouth, and I give an impatient tug, wanting to fill my belly with him. To my surprise, my hands catch on an expanding bump near his base, and I can’t stop my palms from returning to it.

  Fascinated by the growth, I ignore my Alpha’s jerk and warning growl, my scalp loving the slight pain as he pulls my hair. I gather more of him into my mouth, increasing the pressure on my hair follicles and humming my delight.

  The thing under my overburdened hands inflates even more, and my mind dredges up the word from secondary classes many years ago.

  Knot.

  I knead my fingers in the massive bulge, shock, stubbornness, and curiosity keeping me latched to him despite his scary growl.

  More.

  My fingers clench harder than I mean to as one of his hands wraps around my upper arm and starts tugging me upward. Refusing to let him take away my new toy, I lurch forward, taking too much of him into my mouth. My lips hurt from stretching and my tongue gets flattened to the bottom of my mouth.

  Vague sounds of distress float just out of reach, but my focus zeroes in on the solid knot under my palms. Salty warmth floods my taste buds, choking me with the force of its arrival, and the euphoria coating my tongue makes my other senses fade. I swallow and gulp, but still more shoots into my mouth, until it overflows and drips from my clenched lips. Even with sounds of strain trying to break into my elation, I keep milking the fat flesh under my fingers with everything I have.

  I need to consume him. He has my heart. I want his flavor on my tongue. I must have his warmth in my belly.

  As the splendid rapture dissolves, I loosen my grip and lift my head until my lips rest along the ridge near the tip of his cock. When my senses return enough for me to understand what I’m hearing, shock makes me pop up in alarm, even though he still leaks fluid.

  With spit and overflow dribbling down my chin and continuing down my chest, I stare up at him in shock.

  Those whines and grunts came from my Alpha, not me.

  I don’t know when his hands left me, but currently they twist fistfuls of sheets, wrecking the sides of our nest, his back arched so only his shoulders and hips touch the mattress. Despite the bend in his spine, he holds his head up so he can stare down at me, his teeth grinding along with his growl. I could drown in the dark pools of his pupils.

  He grunts as my fingers flex on his knot, and the worry wriggling in my chest eases. A new emotion rises in me, and I dip back down, lapping at him.

  I’ve felt helpless and little my entire life.

  This moment is the first time I’ve ever felt powerful. I know he could take control at any moment, but the love soaring in my veins doubles as he lets me stay where I am, enjoying my newfound sense of worth.

  The gentle stroke of his large fingers running over my scalp lulls me into gentling my touch, and I mourn the loss as his knot shrinks. Peppering little kisses all over his tip and shaft, I sigh and purr, feeling more satisfied than I have in my entire life.

  My name leaves my Alpha’s lips, the sound barely more than a growl, but the reverence and vulnerability in it makes my heart stutter.

  I lift my head and meet his eyes, a little uncertain with the act over and not knowing what comes next.

  A purr vibrates into my bones, Dirk’s pleasure shielding me from any worries.

  “You’re magnificent, Little One. A perfect, sweet, giving Omega. Come here,” he urges, wrapping his hands around my biceps and pulling me up his body.

  The glide through our mixed juices proves too stimulating. My body bucks, the satisfaction eaten up by blazing lust. As he drags my writhing body up him, my hips angle and mash the sensitive button above my lady bits along every inch of him. The part of him I just had in my mouth becomes the thick, hard thing my body craves.

  New slick pours from me, and I clench my legs around his hips, squeaking a little when he keeps trying to pull me. My arms hurt from the pressure, but I refuse to let go, rubbing my hard nub against his even harder manliness.

  “You’re a messy, demanding little thing, aren’t you?” he says, his tone so full of adoration my addled brain glosses over his less than favorable words.

  “Come up here, Shya, and kiss me,” he demands.

  No matter how much I want to taste his lips, I can’t part my intimates from his.

  Even with his release warming my belly, I feel so empty.

  “I need this more, Dirk. Ple-e-ease more,” I whine, rubbing my hungry folds against him for emphasis.

  I don’t know where the begging comes from, but my instincts pull it from deep within me, whirling behind my breastbone with my recent emotions.

  His eyes squint for a moment before the pleased expression returns to his face, b
ut he tugs my arms again.

  “You aren’t ready. Come here, my little Omega, and let me prepare you.”

  Unexpected anger fills me. I’ve taken his mark. Orgasmed on his fingers. Loved him with my mouth.

  But he thinks I’m not ready.

  He lessens the pull on my arms, trying to give me a chance to crawl up him on my own.

  I don’t.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dirk

  Astounding, dripping constriction grips the first inch of my cock. Shock and ecstasy whisk away logical thought, leaving me a jumbled mass of Alpha instincts and overwhelmed male.

  This tiny scrap of a female has rendered me defenseless. Her tight entrance stretches around my tip, and any hope I had of easing her into coupling flees.

  My fingers dig into her hips, her huge pink eyes shining at me with alarm. Her mouth opens in a startled O, but there’s no going back now.

  Her slick drenches me from tip to root, but her nails puncture my chest as she strains to stay raised.

  I held on by a thread while she explored me with her hands and mouth, but this? This shatters every ounce of self-control I possess.

  “Don’t move,” I manage to growl, hanging on to the worry in her eyes like a lifeline. Maybe if I focus on her discomfort, I’ll be able to take this slow.

  She whimpers, her thighs shaking with the effort of staying poised above me. The resulting vibrations along my shaft urge me to force her all the way down on me, but I manage to halt my hands after only a little tug. Her nails flex into my chest. My muscles jerk, cramming more of my wide cock into her tight pussy.

  She gushes around me despite her obvious distress, and I lose it. Staring into her astonished face, watching as delirium overtakes her, I yank her all the way down on me.

  Her squeal of pain breaks my heart, even as the Alpha in me revels at my mastery. I clamp my fingers into her hips, trying to give her a moment to adjust to my girth, only for her to shock me yet again.

  One of her hands leaves my chest and strokes the huge bite mark on her shoulder. Glorious fire sets my heart ablaze, and I have no choice but to lift her up and cram her back down around me.

 

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