Felix nuzzles his face into my neck, his nose drawing upthe column of my throat. A soft purr rolls from him, and my eyes fill with tears.
His warm breath feathers over my face, and I can feel his heart beating out of his chest.
“Clara,” Felix whispers, lips only a hairsbreadth from my ear. “Can I kiss you? It doesn’t have to mean anything. I need … Please?”
Six words.
Those six words will ruin me.
It doesn’t have to mean anything.
It doesn’t have to mean anything.
Please let it mean something.
I’d do anything if it could mean to him what it does to me.
“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” I repeat, brushing my lips across his. “I’ll give you whatever you need, Felix.”
He whimpers before latching his lips onto mine, soft and questioning, before the pressure increases and he’s rolling on top of me.
Nothing has ever meant more than this.
I grip his hair, my lips moving with his in perfect synchronicity, gasping as I feel him hardening on top of me. He slips his tongue between my parted lips, and it dances with mine. Every stroke, every lick, has me falling deeper and deeper in love with him.
Felix props himself up over me, caging my head in with his arms as he breaks our kiss. I can feel his heat and hardness through my shorts as he presses his hips against mine. He stares at me, dark blue eyes wide and trusting, a flush painting his neck pink as his chest heaves with labored breaths.
“It doesn’t have to mean anything.” He says it like a prayer, trailing a hand down my sternum to my stomach. He brushes his fingers across my hips, a soft whine escaping him as his hips buck a little. “Can we…?”
“Yes, God, yes,” I say, wrappingmy arms around his neck and pulling him down for another kiss. He moans into my mouth as I roll us over, resting myself over his hips. I grind myself against his length. As we move together, he moans into my mouth, grabbing my hips and digging his fingers into my flesh.
I pull away with a gasp and grab the hem of his shirt, scrambling to get it over his head and revealing his slim, hairless chest to me. His pajama pants are thin, and I can see the slick that’s soaking through them. The need to taste him is so strong that I can’t hold myself back.
I pull my shirt off, leaving my chest bare, and throw it into the corner of his nest, intending to leave it behind when this is over. I crawl down his body, hooking my hands under his waistband and pulling the pants and his thin briefs down as I go.
His cock looks excruciatingly hard, the entire surface of it glistening with the slick that is dripping from him. I grip his base and flick my tongue against his tip, the salty-sweet flavor of him imprinting itself on my memory. Unable to take it slow, I suck his head into my mouth and swirl my tongue around him.
My Omega whines, hips thrusting, as I take him into my throat. I’ve never been with an Omega before, and his cock is softer, almost plush, despite how rigid it is. It’s meant to be gripped by a lock, and the three raised bands down his shaft to allow him to slot into a female Alpha like a key.
All I can think about is how amazing those ridges would feel inside of me, and my cunt clenches around nothing.
Felix grabs me by the hair, pulling me up so we make eye contact.
“More,” he pants as I stroke his cock.
I don’t need him to say what he needs more of.
As I slide my mouth down his length, I trail my fingers down the seam of his sac, stroking the soft flesh underneath.He’s hot and slick, and when I stroke his hole, the whining moan he rewards me with threatens to go to my head. I ease a finger into him. It’s both surprising and not at all how readily he accepts me inside him, his body primed for an Alpha already.
“Another,” he begs. Who am I to deny my Omega what he needs? I slip a second finger into him as I suck on his tip, and he floods my mouth, gripping my fingers as his cock kicks.
I stroke inside him, searching for that vestibule made to take a knot, when he tugs my hair again. I sit up, admiring the splotchy red pattern on his chest and how utterly wrecked he looks, with his hair a mess and pupils blown out.
He doesn’t have to ask me for what he needs because I can see it plainly on his face. I scramble out of my shorts, my wetness having soaked my panties, and crawl back up his body.
I capture his mouth in another passionate kiss, his slick coating my stomach as he rubs against me. When I pull away, as out of breath as he is, I grab his chin and force him to look me in the eye.
“Are you sure?” I ask, knowing I could stop if he needed me to, but begging he won’t ask that of me. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
