I cannot wait.
I count the minutes as they tick by, listening to Lucien’s breathing. It starts out long and even, a soft, quiet saw of air flowing in and out of him, but it gradually quickens. Long pulls stutter and become uneven. Uneven breaths become ragged. His head drops back, nestling into the pillow, exposing his throat to me. It’s an act of submission that comes naturally to omegas. Lucien is probably hardly aware he’s doing it, but it’s an act I’m hardwired to notice. Hardwired to respond to. It enters my being through the back of my skull. A tiny vine that quickly infiltrates all that I am.
It takes all my strength, mental and physical, not to take hold of his jaw. Not to tilt it back more and expose his scent gland fully. Not to lean down and run my tongue up his neck from his clavicle to his ear.
No!
I can’t think like that.
I wrench my gaze from his jugular and focus instead on the rest of his body. Slim hands clench into balls at his side and his chest arcs up. Pale-pink nipples are thrust into the air.
He sobs softly, reaching blindly for me as the temperature in the room ratchets up. He struggles with the quilt, throwing it off himself as he tries to get onto his hands and knees. His limbs are heavy. Uncoordinated. He’s beenweakened by the heat, his body so stunned by the sudden onslaught of fucking it’s received over a short period of time that he can barely hold himself up.
“You can stay on your back,” I tell him.
He flops limply onto his back, sky blue glittering gratefully at me. His eyes are something else. Pale crystal rings around big black globes. Light shines at me from the black. Twinkling stars that light up something inside me.
I kneel between his legs and look down at him. He looks unreal. So naked. So defenseless. So utterly, utterly captivating.
His hands are on the bed, palms facing up on either side of his head. His legs are open too. Not open with purpose as such, open because he’s burning so hard that he can’t remember how to close them. He might not even know his knees are spread wide. He might not even realize his hole is gaping and on display. Milky-white thighs, smooth and silky soft, spread for me. Perfect, stocky little cock straining at me, making my mouth water.
Seeing him like this makes my cock ache. It makes me throb. Not just my cock. It makes my heart throb too.
I take a slim ankle in each hand and push his legs back until his knees are all but touching his ears. He’s as open as a man can get, but he doesn’t resist at all. There’s no fight in him, only acceptance. Only surrender.
His hole is pink, glittering with slick, fluttering sweetly as my previous loads leak out of it. It’s a clear solicitation.
An open invitation.
An offer I find infinitely seductive.
“Are you going to hold me down?” he asks dreamily, his voice traveling from a faraway place to find me.
The thought of it—Lucien on his back, powerless and pinned down—turns me on in an old way. A savage way. Blood thunders through arteries and veins. Rough edges twist and grow rougher. Wild parts of me break free and go wilder.
At the same time, I’m dimly aware of something new. Something soft. Something that swells in my chest. “Do you want me to?” I ask.
“I wantallthe things,” he replies with a fuck-me slur.
I lower myself onto him, reaching up and circling his wrists with my hands. He smiles and doesn’t resist. Not at all. Not even to test my strength. He doesn’t need to. He knows we’re unevenly matched, and he accepts it.
That turns me on too.
My knees bear my weight as I raise his arms over his head, stretching them up the bed until his abs tighten. I cross them at the wrist and hold them both in one hand, looking down at him as the approaching heat wave makes his teethclench. He keens loudly, and I feel the sound in my balls, a tantalizing plea I’m built to respond to.
Every cell in my body tenses, a not-so-subtle suggestion that I bury my cock in him. I fight the urge, the instinct, waiting instead for his next wave to make his body temperature skyrocket, no matter what it costs me.
I hold back, abs engaging, jaw clamping until I hear it: a thin, distant wail I now consider the harbinger of unimaginable pleasure.
His opening is soft and willing. Wet and wanting. He grants me entry with only the smallest of grunts. A quick inward pull of breath through gritted teeth, followed by a long, lusty moan.
I melt into him and lose myself. I go away. Far, far away to a place that’s warm and liquid. A place that envelops me completely, wrapping me in layer upon layer of heat. A place so blisteringly hot, my spine tingles and my pulse roars in my ears. In my lips. In my face. It’s so loud and distinctive that Lucien’s heart hears it. It must because, as I thrust, his pulse slows and his heart starts beating in time with mine.
I hold him down with one hand and hold myself up with the other, so I don’t crush him. Our bodies are close. Chests pressed against each other. Skin against skin. I love this position. I love how his ass feels clamped around me.Snug and slippery. I love seeing him like this. Helpless and willing. Open and yielding. He thrashes beneath me, snarling and gnashing, snapping at my jaw as his first orgasm closes in.
He comes quickly, like he has every time I’ve had him, hardly able to withstand two deep thrusts before dissolving in pleasure. His muscles clench around me hard, tugging at my shaft greedily, sucking me in deeper as he milks my cock.
Lucien, when he’s coming, is so beautiful my eyes water. His eyes slam shut and a tiny line appears between his brows. His perfect, puffy lips part, and he’s paralyzed for a moment. A pause that makes the world stop turning. A lull that makes my heart stop beating. He opens his eyes, wide and wild, unseeing, as pleasure wracks him and his grimace fades into a picture of pure ecstasy.
