Page 33 of They Love Me Knot (Starsfalls Omegaverse #2)

Feliks

T he tattoos on my fingers are stark against my pale skin.

I stare at them, wondering why they look strange, until I realize I’m gripping the menu so tightly I’m creasing the leather. I hastily set the menu down, and the blood flow returns to my hands. I flex them once before hiding them under the table.

I haven’t been this nervous for a date since…well, I’m not even sure I was this nervous for my first date ever.

I’ve gone on a few dates alone with omegas before, as well as group dates with my packmates, so the fact that Daphne is an omega shouldn’t be causing me this much anxiety.

I just really like Daphne and want her to like me enough that she wants me and my packmates.

It doesn’t matter to my pack that I’m a beta, and for most alphas and omegas it’s not an issue. Still, it’s a fear I’ve kept hidden for years, afraid I won’t be good enough for the omega that joins our pack because of my designation .

I love being part of my pack, and they’ve never made me feel unwanted or less than just because I’m a beta.

There’s only a small minority who think betas aren’t as good as the other designations, or that we’re not suitable for relationships with omegas.

But those few grains of dissent got stuck in the back of my mind, turning over and over in my thoughts, and sometimes I worry I’m the reason our pack hasn’t found an omega yet.

I’ve always kept that unpleasant little thought pearl hidden so my packmates don’t sense it, but it’s been harder to ignore than usual ever since meeting Daphne.

I don’t have an alpha’s senses, but even I can tell Daphne is special. I really think she’s the one for us.

I just haven’t told them yet.

I went back and forth between telling my packmates about our date or not. I know in my heart that I want Daphne, but logically we barely know each other. I don’t want to get my packmates’ hopes up yet if things don’t work out.

And I selfishly want to spend more time alone with Daphne first, to make sure she really likes me. I don’t think she’s the type to want the alphas and just tolerate a beta, but I can’t shake the desire to make sure she cares about me despite my designation.

We talked some when we met, but I was too nervous to tell her much about myself. I asked her questions to keep her talking about herself, redirecting when she asked about me.

I wanted to learn more about her anyway. I could listen to her talk for hours.

But now it’s time to show Daphne who I am. I have to stop being afraid of rejection and let her get to know me so she can decide if she likes me for more than just my body .

Daphne enjoyed the sex, and I know I have some skills in that area. That’s not a sore spot for me, ironically. I know there are plenty of ways to have sex and play around, a knot or even a dick aren’t required to have fun.

A clanking noise alerts me to the fact that I’ve been twisting up my napkin and it spilled the silverware on the table.

I smooth the napkin out and put the silverware back where it’s supposed to be, the multiple spoons and forks in the proper spot (I double check by looking at the setting at Daphne’s empty seat).

I put my hands under the table and sit on them this time.

I’m still jittery and nervous, but at least I’m no longer ruining the place settings.

The server brings the oysters I ordered, and I thank him on autopilot, too busy staring at the front of the restaurant.

When Daphne blows in wearing a cute strappy pink dress, hair floating around her like she’s not of this world, I stand up so fast I bump the table and almost spill the oysters everywhere. As it is, a few of them land on the table, but I hardly register it.

I stride toward her, long steps taking me halfway across the restaurant in seconds. Daphne spots me and hurries over.

I don’t stop until I’m almost toe-to-toe with her.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hi,” Daphne says back, breathless.

Like the day we met, I’m not sure what to say. She knocks me senseless every time. I don’t mind, happy just to gaze at her, but I can’t imagine she finds that very thrilling.

Before I can come up with something more clever than “hi,” Daphne looks away .

“Sorry I’m late. My last delivery ran long, and I had to rush to get ready,” she says.

“I didn’t even notice. I’m just happy to see you now. Unless you’re too tired for our date?”

“No! I’m good. I’m excited for our date,” Daphne quickly reassures me, smiling.

I smile back, not moving until a server clears his throat next to us. He gestures for us to follow him. I let go of one of Daphne’s hands (I didn’t even realize I was holding them), but keep ahold of the other as we walk to our table.

The server tries to hold her chair out, but I take over and help Daphne into her seat. I can’t resist leaning down to smell her hair, even though I’m too tall to pretend like my face just happened to get near it.

Betas have weaker senses, but that simply means I have to be within a few feet to scent Daphne.

I get a rush like I’m lightheaded whenever I smell her plush, creamy vanilla, and it’s even stronger this close.

I almost press myself against her before I remember we’re in public, assisted once again by the server clearing his throat.

I make sure Daphne is settled and take my seat across from her.

I barely pay attention as we give our drink orders, except for noting what Daphne orders, a hibiscus and coconut ginger ale.

“I got oysters as an appetizer, but if you don’t like them, we can order something else. I didn’t want you to arrive to an empty table,” I say.

“Oh.” Daphne touches her utensils, adjusting them nervously. “I’ve actually never had oysters before.”

“Really?” I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

She looks down and nods, a blush staining her perfect round cheeks .

Daphne is so interesting and cute and precious, I thought she would’ve had droves of alphas spoiling her and giving her all the best things in life.

If Daphne hasn’t been properly spoiled before, I’ll be glad to do so. I don’t like that she wasn’t treated like the queen she is before now, but I’ll do everything I can to make up for it.

I take her hand to stop her nervous fidgeting.

“They can take some getting used to, but they’re good if you want to try one,” I say.

Daphne studies my face like she’s checking to see if I’m judging her.

“That sounds good,” she finally says.

I grin, anticipating feeding her.

I may have had an ulterior motive for ordering these.

I’ve been wanting to feed Daphne since we met.

I had to sit through our long breakfast without feeding her once, not even a little bite.

Making sure she ate well and had a hearty breakfast was decently satisfying, but putting the food directly in her mouth will be even better.

I’ll just have to make sure I stay hidden under the table.

The thought alone is making me thicken, and actually sliding something into Daphne’s mouth is a definite risk to the integrity of my pants. I haven’t come prematurely since I was a teenager, but Daphne makes me feel like that’s a distinct possibility again.

I’ve always shown my care through food, but it’s never been tied to my cock like this. That just extends to Daphne though. Bringing dinner home to my packmates yesterday still only warmed my chest, nothing below the waist stirred.

I explain how to eat oysters, with mignonette sauce, lemon juice, or hot sauce for seasoning, along with some herbs or roe on the side.

“What do you want to try first, kitten?”

“I think I’ll try them plain to see if I like it,” Daphne says, a little line between her eyebrows as she carefully considers my question.

It’s so cute that she’s thinking so hard about this. I get it though, food is important.

I pluck an oyster from the tray and hold it level with her pink, full lips.

I can’t tear my eyes away when I ask, “May I?”

“Yes,” Daphne says, opening wide.

I tilt the shell against her lips, watching as the oyster slides across her tongue until it flicks up and the oyster disappears down her throat.

I manage to tear my eyes away from her lips to see her expression. Daphne scrunches her nose and purses her lips as she swallows.

I can’t tell how she feels about it, and I’m distracted from that thought as she licks her lips.

I tense my thighs, trying to redirect the blood flow.

“I think… I like it.” Daphne smiles.

“More?” is all I can think to ask.

She nods, and my cock twitches eagerly. I give up on trying not to get hard and just make sure the napkin is covering it.

I select the next shell and watch closely as she swallows again.

We work through half the tray with me feeding her. Daphne starts letting out little moans around the third oyster, and every time she makes the noise my cock jerks painfully against the zipper on these stupid tight dress pants .

Eventually she notices I haven’t eaten any oysters and insists I have some. While I’d rather watch her eat the rest, I’m sure it would be odd for me to tell her that, at least at this point.

We finish the oysters without me finishing (thankfully) and look at the menu, Daphne deciding on the herb laminated cheese ravioli, and I pick the French onion pot roast with garlic confit mashed potatoes.

I ask Daphne about her day, but she flushes and looks away, giving a noncommittal answer.

“It was the usual day with flowers. You know, making arrangements, easy deliveries to customers. Just a basic day.”

She’s obviously hiding something.

I frown, worried her coworkers found out we fucked in their shop and I got her in trouble. But I can’t ask about that directly, the other patrons aren’t sitting very far away, and the server keeps darting by.

I lean as close to her as I can before asking in a roundabout way, “Are you having problems at work? Is there anything I can do to help?”

Daphne’s eyes widen in alarm, and she stumbles over her words.