One finger trails up over my knee.
He steps closer, and his finger moves higher until he’s caressing my thigh in a soft circle.
I remain frozen, eyes locked on him.
“Open your legs.” That command certainly isn’t a bark, but damn do they part like it is.
He smirks, stepping in between and nudging them even wider. “Good omega.”
Oh fuck.
My heart pounds as I stare up at him, his finger still brushing over my thigh, his other hand reaching up to my shirt, slowly unbuttoning until it lies open, barely covering my breasts.
When his touch reaches the edge of my underwear, I hold my breath.
“You don’t like me...?” he repeats, voice curling around me.
But before I can respond, the pad of his finger brushes over the centre of my underwear.
I gasp, he watches, and keeps touching. Slow, little brushes. “If you don’t like me.” Up and down. “I guess you won’t be wet for me.”
I pull in my lips, refusing to let any sounds escape as I shake my head.
“No?” He keeps brushing, even softer, barely grazing. “Hmm.” His other hand lands on my thigh, the heat of his palm searing my skin, and his finger…
Falls away from me.
I let out a breath, but it catches when his thumbs reach the elastic at the top of my underwear and slip beneath.
“Lift up.” Again, not a bark, but my hips start to move…
No.
This time, I fight against my need and my whining omega.
I stare straight at him with a soft scowl that’s supposed to show determination.
He huffs a laugh. “Ah, so you’re a liar, omega?” I bite my tongue. “I just want to check how much you dislike me.” He starts shuffling my underwear down, but I don’t move, because I know I’m drenched.
Soaking.
He’s probably already felt it with those teasing little grazes.
But the game ends the second he feels it fully. Unless...
I slowly lift my hips, and those eyes turn molten as he slips them down enough that they fall off on their own.
The second he goes to touch me, his head dropping to look, I whisper, “I’m imagining someone else.”
He stills.
Time seems to slow as his gaze sweeps back up to me.
I’m smirking. I’ve gotten under this alpha’s skin. I’ve played him at his own game—
His thumb brushes over my centre, and all humour falls away.
He tilts his head as he watches me, moving the pad of his thumb up and down, parting me gently, grazing my clit with gentle circles.
