He bats his lashes flirtatiously, curling a sexy shoulder in my direction. “Maybe it is. Maybe I did and just never realized it because I was so busy being scared and distrustfulof alphas, but…I definitely noticed you.” He gives me a playful slap on my arm. “You’re kind of hard to miss, you brick shithouse of a man.”
I’m not entirely sure how I feel about being referred to as a brick shithouse of a man, but I am sure that I hate that he’s scared of alphas. Lots of omegas are, and often, they have good reason to be. Something deep in my core roils at the thought of Lucien, my Lucien, being afraid of me.
I hate it because I was made to protect, not harm.
“Are you still scared of me?”
“God no!” he says, dropping his hand from my arm and reaching for my dick. He takes it firmly in hand and uses it as a lever to pull me closer to him. I can’t say I’ve been dragged around by my dick before, but strangely, I don’t hate it. “I’m not scared of you anymore. I can’t get enough of you now. I can’t think of anything but this beautiful alpha cock.” He curls his fingers around my dick and gives it another firm tug. Skin tightens. Flesh swells, and a warm bolt of pleasure rushes up my shaft. “So nice,” he says, stroking me dreamily, “so handsome and sturdy. Feels so good in my ass, wonder what it would feel like in my… Hey—” He flicks his eyes up at me. “Can I put it in my mouth?”
My mind falters. Thoughts turn to liquid and bump into each other. The idea of my dick in Lucien’s mouthis enough to persuade me to make really, really bad decisions. That sweet mouth stretched wide. Those pretty lips wrapped around me… But no. We can’t do that. Of course we can’t do it. He’s in heat, and if I put my dick anywhere near his mouth, I’ll come on the spot.
“No, Lucy,” I aim forSternAlpha Who Knows Things, but fall miserably short, landing on a saccharine, cajoling tone that is far from impressive. “You’re in heat. It’s anal only for you, you know that. Everything I have has to go in your butt, not down your throat.”
He pouts and turns his back on me stroppily. He stamps his foot again, and this time accompanies it with a little huff. His ass jiggles as he does it and I follow him into the bedroom with the urgency of a dog chasing a treat. I’m not sure if I actively decided to follow him, or if there’s an invisible leash around my neck—one he has wrapped around his little finger.
“Come on,” I say, intercepting him before he has time to burrow into the nest. “We need to go to the kitchen.”
His top lip pulls up as though I’ve suggested a trip to the dump. “What for?”
“I need to eat,” I remind him.
“Oh yeah, you poor thing. Can’t believe you still have to do things like that.” He’s animated, eyes and brows working together to tease me. I love him playful like this.Playful with me. “Omegas are so much more advanced, don’t you think? We don’t even need food when we’re heat fucking. We can godayswithout it.”
I bite back a smile and nod in solemn agreement, opting not to remind him how weak he’ll be by the time his heat is over, or that when we get to the kitchen, I’m going to make sure he downs a packet of electrolytes, even if I have to use my alpha voice on him to get him to do it.
I step into a pair of sleeping pants and pull them up.
“Pants?” he exclaims, nose wrinkling in displeasure. “Why are you wearingpants?They’re aterribleinvention. They’re the worst. I can’t imagine why people ever started wearing them.”
“I have no idea why people started wearing them.” I drop my gaze to his lips. “But I know whyI’mwearing them now.”
He makes a face. “Please. Pants won’t stop me. It’d takesomuch more than pants to stop me.”
I tie my drawstring, pulling it nice and tight, and eye the door. “Are you okay to walk to the kitchen, or do you want me to carry you?”
I know I’m babying him, and I expect outrage at the suggestion. Lucien is nothing if not fiercely independent. To my surprise, he throws himself into my arms with a throaty chuckle and not a lick of hesitation.He wraps his arms and legs around me and clings to me like a little monkey.
I can’t possibly explain what a simp I am for this kind of thing.
For this kind of guy.
For this exact guy.
“Wow, Branson,” he chirps as I carry him down the hall, “look what I can do now.”
I don’t need to look. I can feel what he’s doing—humping me. Tentatively, and not very hard, but still, he’s receiving direct contact on his dick without crying in pain, so I can understand why he’s happy about it.
“Congrats, horny omega.” I laugh, sliding one hand under his ass to support his weight better. “You’ll be able to jerk that bad boy like you mean business by this time tomorrow.”
“Ugh, thank God.” A blast of warm air lands on my cheek. Hot, sexy omega air. Air that’s been inside Lucien. It warms me all the way to my marrow. “I never knew I’d miss touching my dick this much.”
I snort at that. “How could you not know that? You touch it all the time.”
His cheeks flush, a pretty pink that makes his eyes look even bluer. “How do you know that?”
Oh shit.I forgot that loss of inhibition doesn’t only affect omegas.
“I, uh, I can smell when you’ve touched it,” I splutter, as surprised by the admission as I am by the fact that I’m a hundred percent sure I didn’t mean to say it aloud.
