Page 74 of Omega

I ground my ass on his stomach. “This feels good on you, doesn’t it?”

He cupped my ass in his hand, kneading the muscle. “So good.” But then, my hair still gripped in his fist, he tightened his hold so he had my hair by the roots, and firmly but carefully brought my face to his. “You have the sexiest body I’ve ever seen, Layla.”

“Thanks—” I started, but he didn’t let me finish.

He cut me off with a kiss. “I wasn’t done. Don’t interrupt me.” I frowned at the command, but waited for him to continue. He gave my ass a gentle spank—well, it wasn’t really gentle, it was still a loudsmack, but in comparison to how hard he had spanked me earlier, it was relatively gentle—sending the round globes to quivering, and then smoothed his palm up my back, brushed my jaw with his thumb. “But that wasn’t what I was talking about.”

“No?” I was trying for casual.

“No. I said you were absolutely perfect.” He bit my lower lip again, his palm splayed against my face. “And I meant it.Allof you.”

It was either cry or avoid the subject, so which do you think I chose?

I reached down between our bodies and wrapped my fingers around his cock, fitted him to my entrance, propping my body up with one hand on the mattress beside his face, hovering over him, tits swaying over his chest. A momentary pause, our eyes connecting, heat and intensity crackling and sparking between us. And then I sat down on him, hard, impaling myself on him.

“Fuck, Layla,” he ground out, “that feels—you feel incredible.”

I squeezed his cock as hard as I could. “You like that?”

He thrust up into me, our hips grinding together. “Fuck yes. Do it again.”

I lifted up, swirled my hips so the broad head of his dick smeared in circles between my damp labia, and then plunged down on him, squeezing at tight as I could. “Like that?”

His hands coasted up my ribs to knead my boobs, cupping and stroking. “Just like that. Keep doing that. Ride me until we both come.”

So I did.

I clamped down as I lifted up once more, relaxing at the apex, circling my hips again to move his shaft around and around, keeping him guessing as to when I would…slam down hard, our bodies meeting with a loudslapof my ass onto his thighs, squeezing with my pussy muscles on the down-thrust.

Seated on him, panting, everything inside me pulsing madly, I knew I had to draw it out. When I came again, it would be hard, and it would break something in me. I was scared of it. It was inevitable, but I still tried to push it away. I had to.

Self-preservation.

There was something real between Harris and me, and it scared the living shit out of me.

So I played with him. Drew it out. Used every trick I knew to string him along.

With his cock impaled inside me, I rolled my hips in broad circles, grinding down on him. And then I lifted up, paused, and sank down, and then ground hard on him again. Repeated this until I was shuddering and on the edge myself.

Harris was sweating, breathing hard, and clearly feeling what I was doing, but he hadn’t said a word, hadn’t made a sound. He’d kept his grip on my hair, and his other hand was resting on the bend of my hip where it became thigh, cupping, holding. Letting me do what I wanted.

I lifted up, planted my palms on his chest, and feathered slow, shallow thrusts around him, sliding just the top couple of inches in and out of me. Over and over and over, I teased us both with shallow movements, never letting more than half of his cock in me at any one point, sliding up, circling, sliding down his shaft again, pulling back to stretch his dick away from his body and moving in circles again.

And all the while, Harris let me.

Jaw clenched, panting, sweat gleaming on his face and body.

Finally, he growled. “Enough, Layla.”

He thrust up, jerked my head down, and captured my mouth with his. I was on top, but he was in control. He kissed me.Ho-ly fuck, did he kiss me. All tongue, lips crushed to lips, demanding that I kiss him back, commanding my mouth. His body moved, his palm on my ass, pulling at me, his hips thrusting up.

I moaned into the kiss and had to glide on him, had to move. The kiss burned me, stole my breath from my lungs and the will from my soul. It was a kiss that dominated, a kiss that possessed. Took.

He fucked.

And I could do nothing but ride him, do nothing but take it. I was helpless on top of him, my face kept crushed against his by the rough and firm grip of his fist in my hair, paralyzed by the kiss.

It wasn’tjustfucking, though. The movements of his body, the rough and wild and vigorous thrusting—that wasfucking. It was raw and primal and unrestrained. Everything that had gone before that, the spanking and the thrusts from behind, everything I’d done to him up until that moment, it was all just…a precursor.