Page 16 of Desperate Omega

He wants me to use him.

He wants me to use his body while he’s asleep.

If any other alpha had presented me with such an option, I would have assumed it was some kind of a trap, but I don’t believe Markus would trick me like that. Okay, apparently he’s been stalking me for the past four years, and that’s more than a little weird, but he did admit everything as soon as I asked him about it.

There are many other questions I want to ask him. Why he left his pack, for example. Or why he started stalking me in the first place. But I know those questions are going to have to wait, because I can see the medicine is already having an effect on his body.

He’s already half asleep.

I move forward and kneel beside him on the bearskin he spread out on the floor. Even lying down, his body is enormous, and his hard, smooth muscles seem to invite my fingers to stroke them. I place one hand atop the alpha’s chest, and he stirs lightly at my touch.

“Use me, Syra…” he murmurs, his voice slurred from the medicine. “Use my… body… use my… my…”

His voice trails off, and his eyelids flutter closed.

“Markus?”

I give him a shake, but his eyes remain closed. His breathing takes on the easy, relaxed cadence of sleep. He’s out cold.

Now what?

I look at my hand, which is still resting atop Markus’s chest. I can feel his powerful heart thumping beneath my palm, like a drum beating out a slow, steady rhythm. My own pulse beats a little faster in response, and my hand starts moving of its own accord. My palm slips over the hard, smooth muscles of his chest and shoulders. His skin is still damp from when he rinsed himself off, but it feels hot to the touch, as if he had come in from the hot summer sun. The night air is laced with his rich alpha scent, and it calls to me on a primal level, sending tendrils of warm arousal coiling deep into my aching core.

I need him. I can see that now. There’s a fire burning inside me, and the only thing that can put it out is him.

My hand travels lower.

The hard muscles of his abdomen ripple under my fingers. I trace the grooves between them for what feels like hours, as if searching for some secret meaning hidden within their contours. At last, my fingertip enters one of the two deep slashes leading to his groin and follows it all the way down, slipping beneath the waistband of his loincloth until my entire hand is out of sight.

I just learned something new about alphas. They can be aroused, even when they’re unconscious.

Markus is fast asleep now, but his cock is very much awake. The shaft of it feels as hard as an ax handle wrapped in a layer of supple leather. It twitches and throbs in my grasp. I begin to stroke it, slow and deep, and my core clenches at the thought of that rigid male arousal sliding in and out of my body. It’s not something I’ve ever wanted before, but I want it now.

The alpha rumbles softly.

Like a cat that’s been caught trying to steal supper, I snatch my hand out from beneath his loincloth and dart my eyes toward his face.

As far as I can tell, he is still asleep. His eyelids are still closed, and his expression is serene, but now there is the faintest hint of a smile playing around the corners of his lips.

Could he feel me touching him, even in his sleep?

If so, it seems like he was enjoying it.

And Source help me, but I was enjoying it too. I’ve never touched an alpha in that manner, and I want to do it again…

But not with my fingers.

Trembling with lust, I throw a leg over the alpha’s sleeping body and straddle his hips. Then I lower myself onto his crotch. I’m still wearing my loincloth, and Markus is wearing his, so there are two layers of animal skin separating his arousal from my own, but I can feel the shape of his hard length pressing against my aching center, and I can feel it throbbing with the rhythm of his blood.

My body is throbbing too, throbbing with heat, throbbing with desire. I need a release, and I need it now. I need it more badly than I’ve ever needed anything in my life. More than air, more than water.

And Markus is going to give it to me.

I begin moving on top of him, rocking my pelvis, rubbing my crotch against his. At first my movements are slow and uncertain, but soon my inner omega takes control, and I start to grind on him hard and deep. It doesn’t even feel like it’s me who’s doing this. It’s as if there are an invisible set of hands guiding my hips, showing me exactly how to thrust and stroke my body against his.

It feels good—too good.

I brace my hands against Markus’s rippling abdomen and start to hump him even faster, riding the alpha with a frantic, almost violent rhythm. I can feel my impending orgasm building up inside me, rising like a thunderhead on the horizon of my senses. With every fresh stroke of that delicious friction, it expands and blooms inside me, until my entire being is one dark, rumbling, pleasure-soaked haze. When my release finally comes, it hits me like a bolt of lightning. A desperate cry breaks from my lips and echoes through the shadows of the mausoleum.