"It's alright," she grinned, going back to work. "I feel the same way." He blinked at her answer, a sudden rush of calm flooding him as he stared at her as she worked. And he found his gaze slowly raking over her figure, meandering over the dips and the swells. He was greedy as he stared, shameless as he took the chance to burn her image into his memory.
He coughed. "It's old," he explained softly, tongue to the corner of his lip, distracted and struggling not to be. "It's worn down." He exhaled, shakily. "It's okay if you can't fix it. I've tried, many have tried." Gods, she was beautiful, more beautiful than he should think her to be, with long fluttery lashes and a creamy pale neck that deserved to be claimed, to be bitten—
He blinked, swore he saw a spark of blue, fizzing upon the teeth of the player, and she closed it slowly, twisting the screws back in place. He flinched when it glowed, the gears spinning. And the player began hissing a gentle familiar tune, one that had a pang of excitement rushing rosy to his cheeks, lighting up his face. Oh God.
"It's working," he whispered, delight-brimming. He sat up quickly, hands on the player, going through the songs. They sang the same as before and he grew breathless, joy suddenly tinting his world a rosy pink "It's working!" The flush of pleasure was rushing through his veins. The music dancing slowly in the air. "How did you do it?"
"Just needed a bit of fiddling," she shrugged as if it were nothing. "Just a bit jammed up."
But it wasn't nothing. And his belly burned, lashes fluttering. There was a longing to kiss her then, to kiss her breathless in his arms. And his mind reeled with the imagery of pressing his lips to hers. He stared dizzy in her eyes; his Omega was purring, rumbling deep within him, pleasure spiking.
And then the dream was back again behind his pupils, appearing with each blink. "Omega," she whispered in his head. "Would you like a treat?"
"Thank you," he whimpered, shaking his head, trying to free himself from the dream, but the gratitude flooding him felt like a drug pumping through his veins, resembling the emotions he felt in the dream. He inched closer, breathing deeply. His actions were achingly familiar, so easy that it felt as if he'd done it before, almost as if he'd done this a hundred times. "Oh, thank you."
His arms were around her neck, and he was pressing himself against her, warmth enveloping. He couldn't stop himself, couldn't stay away. Not with how the dream was now melting into reality, mixing in his soul. And there were butterflies fluttering in his belly, their wings brushing against the lining of his stomach. A giggle bubbled from him, and he was drowning in black eyes that seemed to glow a sweet hazel, in a soul that was gentle and gold—
And suddenly he was soaring, lips pressed to her waiting mouth, hands cupping her cheeks. His heart beating so hard it was at his throat, and he mewled, silky, wanton and needy as her hands clung to him, moving to his hips. And she was pressed against the leather, hair puddling behind her in silky waterfalls.
She was softer than he thought she'd be, supine as he claimed her mouth, fingers digging into pliable flesh. And he was shivering as he clung to her, drinking down the glow of her emotions. The cram of it almost flooding his belly. Her surprise. Her joy. Her satisfaction. Her genuine desire to just help him. Her care. Her kindness. It spilt juicy on his lips, buzzing zest and trickling honey, coated his tongue thick like cream. He groaned, suddenly slippery between his legs, suddenly dreaming of more—
And there could be more, his Omega whispered. The dream was back, mixing between reality and fantasy. His cock was hard and stirring between his legs, sticky as they dribbled hot on her thighs. Her cocooned in his arms, arousal staining their cheeks, red on their skin, smiles tugging at heartstrings. And his heart was thundering pathetically, as he traced fingers down her breast, felt her heart singing to the tune of his own underneath the palm of his hand.
The music sang, slow and gentle, mirroring.
Her fingers were curled around his cock, thumb on the drooling head. And she was sensitive, as their noses were mashed together, tongue tangling, tasting her sweetness, her salt. He was sinking into the suckle of her gummy warmth, as he folded her, knees up. Her arms were around his neck, and he was still purring. The mushroom head of his cock was dragged into the slippery tightness of her until he was buried so deep that his pubic hair was spread against her belly, his shaft twitching upwards, digging into warm, slippery folds. His cock was deep inside her, and she rippled around him as he fucked her with a thumb to her clit, and she was trembling, mewling. Then he was spurting—
He pulled back, surprised, horrified, oddly so fucking aroused it had him panting. His cock was hard, slick spilling thick between his legs, puddling on the coach. What the fuck was that? His eyes were on her, and she seemed dazed, hadn't realised that he was startled by something he'd seen.
An Omega fucking an Alpha.
That must be a dream.
That could not be true.
"Good?" she beamed, hand on his cheek, breathless, and he exhaled, trying his best to squeeze his legs together and hide his want. He couldn't speak for a second, catching his breath, trying to understand what he'd just seen.
"Yes." He cleared his throat, voice all choked up with pleasure. "Thank you," he repeated again, unable to truly speak, now stunned and trapped in the fantasy. In the daydream. And suddenly there was a desperation in him to confirm his suspicions, to understand if it were truly a dream. "Is there," he whispered, sobering quickly. "A place you know where pink and yellow daisies exist in the wastelands?"
She'd stared at him oddly. "Flowers don't sprout easily in this climate."
"I know," he rushed out quickly, relief flooding—it had all merely been a dream. His Omega was just fucking horny, and he had just allowed it to poison his being. He'd merely been brainwashed by the need to find an Alpha that would fit his criteria. "I thought so—"
"But I'll let you in on a secret," Quinn tapped her lip, and suddenly her words were familiar, too familiar. He'd heard them before, buried under the darkness. "There's a spot in the wastelands. Up North, there's a valley hidden within a cave under a waterfall. You can find cosmos."
"Cosmos?"
"Flowers," she answered, eyes so far away as she left his embrace truly. And his fingers stretched, almost missing her warmth, her glow, the way his chest felt whole when she was pressed against him. "Flowers that look like daisies." And he shivered as coldness stretched over his limbs.
There were no dreams, only visions of a distant future.
A/N: Read ahead on
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