"I will hold your chin," she assured.
And she reached a finger to his cheekbone and stroked it with a gentleness that had him startled. He was surprised by the dedication she had. The way she thumbed the line of his jaw, tipped his mouth upwards to soft eyes—acting eyes. Eyes that feigned the love she'd proclaimed, thumbs moving over the cupid's bow of his lips.
And his Omega couldn't resist the purr, couldn't stop himself from drowning, delirious, breathing in the scent of peach and sugar. He whimpered when their mouths were pressed together—chaste brushing, gentle kisses all soft and sweet. The pecks were like bubbles, like warm rays. His chest grew warm, excitement blooming, heart soaring. Hunger growing. Fuck.
"I'll open my mouth just a little, tongue play," she murmured against his lips and it tickled. "You need the taste to feed."
"Don't play games," he hissed, but it was without the hatred, without the rage. He felt as if he were losing. And his voice was all breathy from the taste of her, a moan almost slipping free. It warbled wet and lost, desire growing. This felt almost wrong. He didn't feel hungry, he felt needy. "Do it quick."
"No games," she agreed.
And this time her lips were parted, lapping softly, gently and then there was heat rushing all over him. His thighs quivered, slick spilling, and his fingers were breaking their rules, dipping to her waist, pulling her closer, firmer, holding her steady. He couldn't help the whine from escaping his lips, all puppy-like and breaking. And he was desperate to taste her, taste the sweetness, to paint her mouth with his, to allow their saliva to froth between the moans.
She was sweet, and he was insatiable. His belly was filling, but with it came a hunger he did not understand.
A hunger that ravaged.
He was kissing her senseless, sucking spit from her tongue, chasing the sweetness of her peach that flavoured her. He tongue fucked her like he wanted to have her flavouring his mouth for days. And he was noisily startled when her tongue painted the roof of his mouth, pleasure writhing to his cock as if it were her mouth on his shaft. His knees buckled when she nipped at his lips, hands reaching to hold her for dear life, desperate as if he were coming apart. And he was.
His cock squirted, hot and painful, between his thighs, self-control slipping. Klaus spilt slick in his pants, flooding the room with his chocolaty scent, hole dripping warm and runny down his thighs. He broke from her heaving, breaking, tasting liquor, wanting more. But she pulled back as his lips sought hers. His wolf was already on its back, already waiting to be fucked, already wanting to sink its teeth into her neck.
He wanted to claim her.
He wanted this Alpha, wanted her to feed him forever. He wanted to press kisses to her lips for hours on end. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her close. His Omega wanted her. It wanted her so much it hurt.
And her touch melted him into goo. The way she cradled him held him as if things were real. Her eyes all hazy, with dilated pupils and swollen lips. And he could hear his heart thumping steadily and rapidly in his head, blood rushing in a nervous rhythm. Hs hands were already around her waist, resting on the dips, getting used to how good she felt in his arms. How nice this was.
It was addictive.
She beamed and giggled at the string of saliva that danced between their bodies. And suddenly he was shy, shy with a rising heat in his belly, with warmth growing in his chest. His incisors were aching, aching with the need to sink his teeth into her neck. And her gaze was so intense it felt as if she were reading him, prying him apart with eyes so bright and hopeful.
And then it was gone. A slam of walls as if he'd lost her somehow, a steely coldness as she closed her eyes and left. He was startled by the look in her eyes, the emptiness of her truth. This was what he wanted, for her to never hide, for her to never lie once it was all fucking over. "I hope," she whispered, stepping away with hands behind her back, clasped like a servant, head lowered as if she'd just completed a task. "That it was enough."
And it felt as if his world were crashing again. The coldness was like a splash of ice to his cheeks, a tsunami of horror as he stiffened back to reality, her words spinning in his head. His Omega was wailing, wailing in his chest as if broken, screaming as if it were wrong as if this Beta was his. His jaw clenched, clamped into a thin angry line as he battled crashing emotions and chipping determination.
It wasn't supposed to be this fucking hard.
"It was," he answered, voice oddly croaky.
"Then I'll take my leave."
"Close the door."
"I will."
Something inside him was breaking.
A/N: Read ahead on
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