“I want to see you again,” I told him, spreading my palm over his stomach to make sure he understood. The thin fabric wasn’t much of a barrier between me and his skin, but I still wanted it gone — and as he sat down on the bed, trembling hands starting to undo his buttons, I could see that he felt the same.
“You too,” he said quietly.
I could see what it took for him to be so direct, and rewarded the confidence with a long, eager kiss.
“Uh-huh.”
I discarded my shirt before his was even fully open, and watched his hands falter as I moved straight to my belt. His attention was slipping fast, and he stalled entirely as I dropped my pants and my boxers at the same time. I grinned, approaching where he sat on the bed, and replaced his hands with mine.
“Let me help.”
I could see his jeans were tented now too, and smoothed a hand over that tightness as soon as his shirt was cast aside. He groaned, head tipping back and hips lifting slightly into the pressure of my hand. “God.”
“Just Vaughn is fine.”
He cracked a smile at that. When our eyes met, I saw in them a gentle, playful reproach that I loved.
That’s exactly what I want, I thought, bending to kiss him again. Don’t be afraid to make fun of me. I’m not going to bite.
My stomach twisted as I thought it, and I struggled to contain myself. I hadn’t meant bite like that. I’d never even thought about marking an omega before — not outside of half-baked hypotheticals and exploratory daydreams. Not with one right in front of me, smelling sweet and new. This really was uncharted territory now.
“We’ll take our time…?”
“Absolutely,” I assured him, running my hands over his thighs. “I mean… shit, Fin. It doesn’t have to be tonight if you’re not ready.”
“I’m ready tonight,” he said, with tantalizing quickness, and ducked his head with squirming, shy pleasure as I grinned at him. “I just… You know. I think if we go easy…”
“Of course, Fin.”
He shuffled back on the bed, unfastening his jeans. I helped him tug them off as he lifted his hips, and drank in the intoxicating sight of his cock straining up into the soft cotton of his underwear.
“Fuck. You’re beautiful.”
His toes curled, and he shifted further back onto the bed as I crawled up over him. My bare cock nudged into his thigh, and he hooked one foot around my ankle.
“I can’t believe you’re actually here,” he admitted.
Chest flooded with some joy I couldn’t identify, I pressed down and kissed him again. I didn’t rush in, just like he wanted — not even now that I could feel his hardness pressed up against my body, tempting and desperate.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’m real glad you’re here too.”
I wondered if he knew how incredible it was that I could say so and mean it. Maybe one day I’d tell him. Right now I wanted to show him instead. Flopping down beside him on the bed, I smoothed a hand over his shoulder. He didn’t take much encouragement to climb on top, legs tangled up with mine. He was so light that it wasn’t his weight pinning me down but his presence. I felt like a child sitting stock-still so as not to disturb the butterfly that landed right beside me.
Well, almost. I didn’t plan on sitting still.
I kept rubbing at his shoulders as he kissed me, letting my hands make slow, circling progress down to the small of his back. When I felt him rock his hips and moan into my mouth, I knew instinctively that he was giving permission, and ran my hands down lower to cup his ass through the fabric of his underwear. One fingertip dipped up inside the seam at the leg.
“Vaughn…”
He dropped his head, nestling into the curve of my shoulder. I felt his need wash over me like summer rain, and slipped my hands underneath the waistband of his underwear instead.
“You’re fucking incredible,” I muttered into his hair, tuned into the slow, quiet moan of pleasure he may or may not have intended to make.
“No, I-”
“Yeah,” I insisted. My words soothed him like a spell and he swallowed, shifting off me again to lie by my side. If I had learned to read his body correctly, he wanted more, but he didn’t know how to ask for it. I sat up on my side, and let my eyes track down the pale, pretty canvas of his body. “Shall I touch you?”
“Mm. Please.” Then, after a beat: “Vaughn, I don’t know what I’m doing. You’re not getting — I mean, should I…?”
“Not yet,” I said. “Right now, it’s all you.”
He shivered, head dropping down into the pillows as my hand trailed as slow as a bead of sweat down the center of his body. I felt that there were other words left unsaid, but I knew Finley well enough to know that uncertainty chased him wherever he went. Whatever doubt he had remaining about whether I wanted him, and whether I was happy to pleasure him first, he clearly didn’t want to speak it, and I wasn’t about to force it out of him.
I would just have to show him how much I wanted him.
That wasn’t going to be difficult. When I had him in hand, lifted out of the confines of his underwear, I felt a rush of desire unlike any hookup I’d ever had before. Even thinking the word ‘hookup’ felt strange right now, even though I already knew for damn sure it didn’t apply.
He shudder-moaned as I gave him a few slow strokes, eyes squeezed tightly shut. He seemed to feel my touch in every inch of his body, and devoted every sense to it — didn’t need the distraction of his sight right now.
“I want to kiss you,” I told him, voice low and gravelly in my throat. Our lips met, and I felt his feverish intensity surge between us like a crack of electricity. Still, I only kept his lips for a moment, and then pulled back to clarify. “Your cock.”
“Vaughn, I… God, yes, please…”
For all his politeness did to me, twisting happy shapes in my stomach, I definitely didn’t need it. I was already desperate for him, and I shifted down the bed to reach him, entranced at the desperation in his body as he pulled off his underwear. He was already slick at the tip, and groaned as I rolled my hand around the head of his cock to spread it — then again, intense and carnal, as I finally took him into my mouth.
“Vaughn.”
My name sounded new like that, gasped like a prayer. My head spun with a kind of confidence even I had never known before, grounded in warmth and strictly, solely about Fin. As I sucked him, tongue lapping the underside of him and one hand free for the base, I had the strange impression that every time I’d done this before had been a dress rehearsal.
Feeling his sensitivity and his pleasure made all the waiting worth it.
Hands smoothing over his thighs, I was ready to make him come like that — to feel him shudder up into my mouth, voice pitched and unguarded. Instead, I felt his hand on my shoulder, tapping at me. I sat up, finding his big gray eyes staring right into mine. My concern swelled.
“Vaughn, it’s…”
“I can stop,” I told him, shuffling off. “I’m sorry. I thought it was good; I-”
“It is,” Fin insisted. He reached out to touch me again, his hand resting on mine. I could feel his pulse through the thin skin of his wrist. “It’s not that. I just… I think I ought to tell you. Before we go any further.”
I blinked, brow lowering a little. I felt like a broken record, but I still had to ask. Something in the center of my chest compelled me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” he said. “I promise. It’s really good; you’re amazing. I just that I haven’t done this before. I mean…” He swallowed, dropping my eyes as he tipped his head askance. “I’m a virgin…?”
8
Finley
I couldn’t meet Vaughn’s eyes as he processed the information. It felt like a watershed moment. I knew that sometimes virgins were seen as desirable, but how could that be the case for an alpha like Vaughn, who had experience sleeping with plenty of omegas who already knew full well how to satisfy him? I couldn’t measure up to that.
&nb
sp; “Fin, I’m… Wow. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think.”
I shook my head, eyes fixed down on the bedsheets. “It’s okay, you know. If you don’t want…”
“No, no.”
The intensity of his tone pricked my ears, and instinct lifted my chin to look at him. There was sincerity and surprise in his eyes, but not disgust or disinterest or boredom or… really anything that I had been so afraid of spotting. Didn’t he feel deceived? Led on by an omega who hadn’t been upfront from the offset?
“Of course I still want you, Fin.” His hand found mine, squeezing it gently in a show of fondness and reassurance. “I just… I mean. I guess it makes sense, but…”
He trailed off, looking distant as he ran over our short history in his mind. I bit the inside of my lip and waited for him to continue, still nervous of saying the wrong thing.
“I mean… you know I wouldn’t mind if you weren’t, right?” he said, after a pause. “Because I promise I’m not the kind of alpha who cares about all that ‘purity’ bullshit.”
“I’m not making it up,” I insisted. “I swear.”
“But… why?” Vaughn gave me a sheepish smile. “I mean. I don’t want to be an asshole, but it’s not like you’d struggle.” He gestured at me with a hand — traced my whole body in mid-air with a quick flick of the wrist. “You’re amazing. I’m sure all the alphas hound you all the time, so it’s not like you’d never have had the chance…”
He trailed off, waiting for his answer. My throat felt dry, but we’d wandered this far into the conversation. I figured I might as well talk about it now.
“You really haven’t noticed…?”
Vaughn shook his head, nonplussed. “Noticed what?”
“My scent.”
His face still looked blank, so I drew up my knees and took a deep breath to explain. “I’ve never gone into heat.” I paused, waiting for a reaction, but he didn’t say anything, and I soon lost my nerve. “I don’t know why. It’s not like I’m not interested in sex, or… or in any of it. I am.” Though I felt timid, I forced myself to meet his eyes. I knew Vaughn was concerned about my shyness and about taking care of me, and I wanted him to know just how eager I was. That I wasn’t just indulging him. “I have… urges. Just like anybody else. It’s just never happened. At this point, my doctor thinks it probably never will. If it does, it’ll be irregular. Probably means I’ll never carry a child, so I guess I’m damaged goods.” I gave him a faint smile. “At least, I must be. No other alphas have ever looked twice at me…”
As I trailed off, his hand tightened around mine — not constrictive, but fond. Supportive. It happened so instinctively and quickly that I couldn’t help but feel reassured. Faced with evidence like this, my insecurity finally began to thaw and melt.
He isn’t running away.
“Fin, you are not damaged.”
Hearing it said in such a forceful, definite tone of voice made my breath catch in my throat. It felt oddly personal, like his approval came from within me — like I had just experienced positive self-esteem for the first time. I swallowed, determined not to cry, and though my eyes creased, I managed to keep them rooted on him.
“Honestly, I… if I had known that…”
Now it was his turn to trail off. Sensing vulnerability, I coaxed it out of him with a thumb rubbing the back of his hand.
“I can’t,” he managed quietly. “Either. Kids.”
I felt like I was falling. Not in a good way or a bad way, but just irrevocably tethered to him — tumbling through life at twice the speed now that our weight was combined. However long this thing between us lasted, I felt innately that we were kindred. That this shared grief bound us together in a way that could never be prised apart.
Still, I just squeezed his hand tighter, and left a space for him to keep speaking. I could tell there was more to come. Sure enough, a few moments later, he pressed on again.
“I had a motorcycle accident,” he said. His voice was still and emotionless now, as if he were describing a movie or a dream. “I was nineteen. Fucked up my whole reproductive system. Seen fuck knows how many specialists, but… that’s how it is, now.”
“Vaughn, I’m so sorry.”
He shook his head. “I guess I came to terms with it a while ago. Never been sure I want kids since it happened, anyway. It’s just kind of… been there, I guess. Waiting to scare off any omega I actually cared about.”
The world vanished around us. There were only his eyes and mine, and the warmth of our hands. I shuffled closer, letting him fold me into the heat of his body. The sexual electricity that sparked between us not long ago had diverted into something dizzyingly deep.
“You don’t mind?” he asked, after a long pause. “I’d understand if you wanted somebody who won’t shoot blanks if it ever happens for you. That heat.”
His thumb rubbed circles on my shoulder. I lifted my head, nuzzling into the hard line of his jaw, eyes closed and head turning circles.
“Vaughn, I don’t want ‘somebody’,” I admitted. “I just want you.”
Vaughn’s lips found mine again. That raw, lustful heat of just minutes ago swept back with a new flavor — frantic, still, but in a very focused and particular way. Gone were the weeks of frustration and nights spent pulling myself off beneath the covers, and my half-baked dreams about what he’d do to me. I only had this exact moment in time, and an unfamiliar, instinctive need to give every part of myself over to him. To take everything he was generous enough to give.
His kisses hardened into an affection both rough and purposeful. As I rocked my body into his, forgetting shame and inexperience and uncertainty, I knew exactly what he was about to do to me, and the staggering, sensational truth of it washed over me like some kind of surreal fever dream. I’d been waiting for years, and now I’d finally know what it felt like.
More importantly, I got to find out with Vaughn.
My hands explored his body as his explored mine. My fingertips found patches of hair on his arms and thin scar lines that I longed to have explained — began to feel a layer of glimmering sweat sheen on the surface of his skin. I ran my index finger back and forth over the dip in the small of his back, feeling the arch of his spine as he rutted against me.
When he laid me down, one hand slipping between my legs and beginning to tease me, I let out a quiet moan. My eyes fluttered closed, but behind my eyelids I could still see the outline of his handsome face — the cut-glass lines of his cheekbones and the stubble that decorated them, and the slight opening of his mouth as he focused on me. I tasted his kiss as he finally pressed a finger inside me, slick with something — spit? His fluids? Mine? For all I knew, he had reached for lubricant in the drawer. I couldn’t have known. I was worlds away, heart pounding to the drumbeat of his touch.
“Is it good?”
“God, Vaughn, yes. I want you so bad.”
“Fuck. Me too.” He kissed me again, cutting off a moan that threatened to be endless as his finger curled up inside me. My foot tightened around him, begging him closer, and I savored the way his scent filled me up — all wood and spice and alpha masculinity, intoxicating and inescapable. Any other time, I might have felt guilty for how weak my scent must be by comparison, but in this golden moment he made me feel somehow as desirable as he was.
I could have cried out of desperation. I couldn’t wait to know how he’d feel.
I wouldn’t have to wait for long.
As he worked me open, careful and confident, I could feel his cock bumping up against my thigh — the thickness and weight of it, and the slickness of his tip. So far tonight, all the pleasure had been mine, and I wondered how desperate he was for a release of his own. How good it would feel for him when he pressed inside me. How my virgin tightness would be for him.
I moaned and shuddered against his lips, feeling his fingers splay and spread.
“It’ll hurt a little,” he told me, voice gruff and warning. Protective. “I’m going to take you slowly. Let
you settle. But you’re still going to feel the stretch.”
“I want it.”
He was like mint and faintly, crudely salty. I wondered if it was myself that I could taste on his tongue from when he’d pleasured me, and shuddered at the slick memory of his mouth. It was a sharp contrast against the rough friction of his fingers.
“I know you do,” he told me, breaking the kiss briefly. His hot breath kept me hovering close. “I know what you want, but I want you comfortable. I want it to be good for you.”
“It already is.”
He growled, rutting hard into my leg. I gasped, lifting my legs higher, and clenched them tight around him as he withdrew his fingers and took the hint.
“Okay,” he said. “Okay, beautiful. All right.” He kissed my shoulder, and paused his hand. “I’d get a condom, but…”
I shook my head, short and sure. “Not us. Don’t need one.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Vaughn lined himself up with a hand. My instinct was to close my eyes, but I fought it — met his stunning honey-brown eyes even as I groaned and rolled my hips down against his tip. As he pushed in and the universe contracted to the raw, tight heat of his cock inside me.
This man who saw me. Who wanted me. This man I chose. This alpha I trusted.
I clenched, and I ached, and I needed him to move.
“Okay?”
“Fuck. Yes.”
My hands wound around his neck, nails already digging into the hot, damp skin at his nape. When he pulled back to thrust into me, I finally lost the struggle to keep my eyes open; they fluttered shut as I moaned out my pleasure, feeling the force of him in every muscle in my lower half — every shudder of my heartbeat.
I didn’t have words for what he was doing to me. Though I had nothing to compare it to, I believed that he was fucking me like he adored me. Felt his careful hands pinning me in places it wouldn’t hurt. Recognized the eagerness of his kisses, which were neither a duty nor an afterthought. They were constant, whether they landed on my lips or on my neck, and I could only imagine that I’d suffocate the second he stopped.
Claiming My Omega: Blackwater Pack Book Two Page 8