The kiss turns harder, fiercer, more passionate, deeper. Her lips part, and it’s as if my tongue has a mind of its own; it slips past her lips and collides with hers as my blood is instantly set aflame. I started this kiss laying on my side, but somehow I end up on top of her, pinning her lithe body down with mine as we lose ourselves in what would only be our first kiss of countless.
If she smells good, she tastes even better. Those lips of hers are supple and delicious, the kind of lips I can easily imagine roaming over every inch of my body. A kiss like this can change destinies.
She moans into the kiss, and the smell of something sweet in the air accompanies that moan—and she pulls her mouth off mine, panting and looking guilty. Or maybe embarrassed.
It takes me a few moments to comprehend why the air suddenly smells so good. Hint: it’s not because I’m close to her. Well, yes and no. It’s her sugared strawberry scent times ten. Her slick. She goes to hide her face behind her hands as she triesto mutter an apology to me, like her slick is something to be sorry about.
“Don’t be sorry,” I whisper to her, riding cloud nine as I inhale her in the air. Even through her clothes, I can smell her so much I can practically taste her. That scent travels right through me, goes right to my cock, which was already hardening due to the kiss.
Now? That thing is rock hard. No denying that.
I pull her hands from her face, not letting her hide from me when I say, “You smell fucking amazing, Dulcie.” I bury my nose against her neck, combining the sweetness in the air to the scent of her skin, and I’m buzzed. I’m in heaven. I’m lost in paradise.
“I should…” She pauses, swallowing hard. “…clean myself up.”
“No.” The word leaves me quickly as my inner alpha rumbles. My chest vibrates with a sound similar to a purr, and I let my inner alpha take control of me when I add, “If anyone’s going to clean you up, it should be me. Can I taste you, mate?”
That word leaves me so effortlessly, like I say it all the time—but I don’t. In fact, it’s my first time calling her that. It slips out of me so easily, and once it’s said, I don’t even want to take it back. How can I? She’s mine. Right now, she’s all mine.
When she doesn’t reply right away, my heart skips a beat in fear she’s going to say no and deny me. As rough as it would be, I’d have to pull myself off her and respect her wishes. Badly as I want her, I will never go against her like that, never force myself upon her. I’m not that kind of alpha, though I’m sure there are plenty out there who are.
But my worries are for nothing, because after a long while Dulcie whispers, “Yes.” It’s a breathless response, beautiful in its brevity.
I bring my face away from the crook of her neck and kiss her again, this time wordlessly thanking her for not denying me.This time the passion is instantly returned, though I do break off the kiss before it turns too hungry—I’m starved for something else, you see.
For that sweet, sweet slick waiting between her legs, between those clenched thighs.
I move down her body until I’m above her legs, and I work on undoing her pants. Button first, then the zipper, and then I tug those pants down her body and off her legs completely, leaving her in nothing but her panties from the waist down.
With one less barrier between me and her slick, the scent becomes even stronger. It’s so strong it causes everything in me to soar to new heights, like she’s my chosen drug of choice and I injected her directly into my bloodstream.
Her panties come off seconds after that. I can’t wait any longer. Those panties are damp from her slick, but the moment they come off, I lose what little I have left of my mind. Her scent affects every part of me, like craving her was written into my DNA from the start. I spread her legs and am greeted with the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.
Such glistening pink skin. The area between her thighs calls out to me without ever speaking a single word, and I follow its call, lowering myself to the same level and running my tongue along those slick pink folds.
Tasting her from the source… fuck, it’d be enough to drive any alpha mad with lust. She’s a goddess among men. I don’t deserve her. None of us do. For the rest of our lives, we’ll have to prove ourselves worthy of her again and again and it will never be enough.
Dulcie moans the moment my tongue laps at her, writhing and squirming but not daring to pull away from my exploring mouth. I don’t have to look up at her to know she’s lost in ecstasy, and knowing she feels so good drives me to keep going, keep pushing, keep tasting.
Fuck. I’m already losing myself in her, and it hasn’t even been an hour yet. Is this what it’s like for most packs once they move in together? How does anything ever get done? Laundry, chores, cooking, cleaning… how do alphas and their omegas not spend every waking hour in their beds getting lost in each other? I don’t get it.
I lick up all the slick I can that leaked from her, and then I drive my tongue inside her wet pussy, fucking her with said tongue. She moans louder, and I use my right hand to touch her inner thigh, dancing along her skin until I reach that nub of flesh at the height of her apex, her clit. My inner alpha knows exactly what to do here to get more slick out of her.
The added action of stimulating her clit while fucking her with my tongue pushes her over the edge. Her inner core tightens as her thighs clamp around my head and her body spasms uncontrollably. Dulcie cries out, her cry one of pure pleasure, as her lower half gushes slick straight into my waiting mouth. I lick it up as it leaks from her, having pulled my tongue out of her core to do so.
She’s fucking delicious. I could live on her slick, I swear.
After that, it becomes sort of a game. How many more times can I get her to come for me? How much more slick can that body create and give me? It’s like her first orgasm was a gateway for me, and now I want to keep diving inside her, taste her over and over again, all while knowing I’ll never have my fill.
I get her to come again and again, and every time I lap her slick up eagerly, not letting a single drop escape and fall to the sheets below. I bring her body to a fever pitch, which makes it easier for future orgasms—and it helps me learn what she likes, how she likes to be touched, sucked, licked. I’m learning our omega while the others are away.
Lucky me, I know.
By the time I’m done giving her orgasms, I’m out of breath and completely content with how much of her slick I devoured, and I crawl up next to her and bury my nose in her neck, murmuring, “You’re mine, Dulcie. Mine.”
The only thing she can do is hum and whisper, “And you’re mine.”
I move us so that I’m on my back and she’s laying on my chest so I can wrap my arms around her and hold her while I dutifully ignore that throbbing cock between my legs. I’m dying to know what it’s like when my cock is inside her, plunging into her with a rapid pace, but I figure, unless she asks for it, it can wait.
