It goes straight to my clit, making more fluid trickle down the insides of my thighs, and I let out another whimper.
What’s happening to me? What the fuckisthis?
An enormous shadow emerges from the foliage to my right. I’m frozen to the spot. The creature is huge—tall enough to blot out the moons, with rigid biceps bigger than my head—and it’s the one who’s growling. It’s also the source of that incredibly sexy smell… oud wood, and bonfires, and maple syrup smoky bacon…
My legs start to move without me even thinking about it. I run, blindly, my arms raised to defend my face from the branches as they whip at me. The wind chills my wet gown.
The roaring is growing louder, the scent stronger.
Still, I run. My core cramps and more wetness sluices down my thighs with each step.
This is nuts. And it’s futile. The creature I saw was enormous, and his stride would make it ridiculously easy to outpace me. But I’m not gonna roll over and let him capture me. Sian may have wanted to be caught, but I sure don’t. If this is one of those Alpha things she was talking about, I’d rather not find out what exactly he’ll do to me when he catches me. And so I continue to sprint, forcing my aching legs to keep pumping.
I don’t stand a chance.
Huge, thick arms grab me from behind, tugging me backwards. I slam against the enormous beast who caught me with no effort whatsoever.
He pulls my back to his chest, holding me in a grip of iron, still growling.
His rumbling makes my sex clench and throb. It takes a minute for me to register that he’s actually speaking, saying the same word over and over again.
“Omega.”
I’m whimpering. Sian said something about how the Alphas used to hunt the Omegas. Is that what’s happening? Is this huge beast clutching me an Alpha… who thinks I’m an Omega?
“No!” I cry, twisting fruitlessly in his grip. “I’m not an Omega! Let me go!”
“Omega,” he rumbles again, and the resulting clench in my pussy takes my breath away.
I’m torn between abject terror, and animalistic lust. I can feel the beast’s cock against my buttock, and it simultaneously horrifies and fascinates me. From what I can tell, it’s just as huge as the rest of him.
Hot breath wafts over the juncture of my shoulder and neck. The Alpha is licking me. His tongue feels huge—broad, but soft—and I try to twist away, but then one of his hands comes up to grip my throat, and I freeze. To my relief, I can still breathe. He’s not squeezing my neck hard. And yet just having his massive hand there does all kinds of things to me. It’s weirdly reassuring and oddly paralyzing. I hang there, limp in his embrace, while he continues to lick the side and back of my neck… and then he nips it gently. I shiver, and there’s another sharp pang between my legs.
Fuck my body for reacting this way. There’s a deep, continuous rumble, like thunder. He’s still growling. His massive chest is vibrating with the force of it. I’d love to get a good look at him but it’s hard, what with him being behind me, and my lust-addled inability to concentrate. Still, the sound is reverberating through every fiber of my being, making me squirm—and want to clench my thighs around the tingling between them.
His scent is just as potent as the noises he makes. It’s like a tangible thing, setting my senses ablaze. I close my eyes as his grip on me tightens, and then I feel like I’m falling.
He’s pushing me down, moving with me to the forest floor. His hold on my neck has shifted, sliding around to my nape, and it’s with a slow steadiness—and an unyielding dominance—that he forces me, first to my hands and knees, and then guides my torso even further down with a gentle push in the small of my back.
I follow his direction fluidly, as if hypnotized. Nothing exists but him, and the way he’s making my body feel. Am I drugged out? I don’t have the energy—or the will—to resist. The Alpha’s rich, tangy musk makes me want to lick him back.
As soon as my cheek is pressed against the cool grass, my thighs are tugged further apart and then—holy mother of god—that tongue of his finds my clit, lapping at it with broad, wet, gentle strokes. He lifts my hips up a little higher to get better access, arching my back at an almost ridiculous angle, but I’m so lost in the sensation of his tongue on my pussy that I don’t squirm away. I grip the grass to keep still. I don’t want to fight. I want more.
Over and over, he licks that taut, throbbing little bead that has become the center of my entire world. Somehow, he’s still growling, adding a toe-curling vibration to his ministrations.
I’m too aroused to breathe, digging my fingers into the dirt. I try to move my hips but he’s lifted my lower half clean off the ground.
Holy shit, he’s strong.
I’m so wet that, despite his growling, I can also actually hear his tongue swiping through my crease and over my clit, over and over again, and as humiliating as that is, it’s also intensely erotic.
I’m just about to explode when he dips down and licks my entrance instead, tongue-fucking my pussy with short, delicious stabs, and I writhe, angling my hips this way and that, trying to get off but not quite able to.
A tiny part of me is acutely aware of what I must look like: face down in the forest floor, wearing nothing but a drenched, transparent negligee, my bare lower half hoisted rudely into the air and thighs splayed obscenely while I’m licked into delirium… but it feels so good, I don’t give a fuck.
“Please,” I mumble, but it’s muffled by my forearm.
That crazy hot tongue of his is still slithering in and out of my pussy, and I’ll die if he doesn’t go back to my clit soon.
