Page 30 of Worthy or Knot (Serendipity Omegaverse #3)

Thirty

MEGAN

C ole is silent as a wraith as I lead him up the single flight of stairs to my room in the townhouse. He pauses just inside the door, but I don’t turn toward him to see what he’s thinking. Not yet. If I look at him, I’m going to climb him like a tree. And that would put his offer to waste.

“Pink?” His quiet voice is surprised.

I suppose it does feel pink. The walls are a warm off-white, and my dresser and vanity table are a deep walnut stain, nearly black.

My bed is black and gold metal with a white quilt that has decorative pink stitching.

It’s overly feminine, so drastically different from everything else in my life, and I’m not really sure why I like it as much as I do.

When I don’t immediately say anything, his arm wraps around my waist. He presses his lips to the back of my neck. I jolt at the reminder we’re nearly the same height.

My pulse races in my chest as heat spreads through my body and settles low in my stomach.

Raspberry surrounds me, tiny waves that give away just how much I want him right now.

Sucking in a breath, I pull out of his light hold and cross the room to my dresser, opening the top drawer.

Soft footfalls and the click of my door closing tell me he’s actually come inside my room.

I grab one of the small bundles and press it against my stomach before finally looking at him.

He stands at the foot of my bed, one hand tucked in a pocket of the warm-ups he wears.

His gaze flicks down to what I hold. A moment later, his scent rushes out from him.

It slams into me, and the nerves I’d felt of showing him this, the worry he wouldn’t really want to try it, fades under the crashing wave of the siren’s call of the apple scent.

I moan, and his cheeks flush.

“If you want to stop, if you don’t like it at any point, just say ‘red,’” I say. Even my voice is lower, full of my arousal. “If you’re unsure of what I’m doing and need a minute, need me to slow down, then say ‘orange.’”

His eyes flash to mine. His throat moves with a swallow. “All right.”

I take the four steps that separate us, wrapping my open hand around the nape of his neck.

I press my body into his as I kiss him. His arm wraps around my waist. Apple surrounds us, drowns us, and my nipples tighten in anticipation.

God, I want him inside me. Want to hear what sounds he makes when he’s locked.

“Pants off and lay down on the bed,” I tell him, lacing the words with the smallest bit of the Alpha bark.

He shudders and mutters, “Holy hell.”

And then his trembling hands are rushing to comply. He kicks his pants toward the door and then pulls away from my hold, climbing onto the bed with slow, shaky movements. His eyes lock onto me the moment he’s on his back. His eyes are half-open, his desire sharpening his cheekbones.

I run the bundle of rope through my palms, soaking in the way his chest shudders and his cheeks flush.

I can’t help but focus on the bite scar on his left collarbone.

The primal desire to lay my own, to mark him and bind him to me, too, rises in a swift, consuming wave.

It rushes through my veins, leaving my hands tingling and my breath shaky as hell.

My hands shake with the force of it as I slowly climb onto the bed beside him and guide his wrists together.

His apple scent pulses from him with every shallow, panted breath that lifts his chest. I tie the rope around his wrists, careful to keep enough blood flow he won’t be at risk for the next several hours.

When I guide his bound arms above his head, I ask, “This okay?”

“Y-yeah,” he gasps.

It takes only a minute to tie the rope to one of the hidden hooks tucked on the inside of my bed’s headboard.

Then I ease down the bed, careful to not touch him, until I’m kneeling between his spread knees.

A soft tremor works through his body. His stomach clenches as I let my fingers trail over his hip bones and then the small line of hair running just below his navel.

His cock twitches, and his breath catches.

I’d known from the first photo in the Council’s packet that he was handsome, that he could have been a model making millions of dollars with his face and body. But seeing all of his olive skin laid out in front of me like it’s my own personal feast?

“You’re so pretty,” I mutter.

The corner of his lips flick up.

A purr climbs my throat, and for the first time in my life, I don’t swallow it down.

I want to explore every inch of him, mark him and taste him.

I want to take my time, let him come so close to the edge until he’s a shaking mess under my hands.

I trail my fingers up his chest, flicking one nipple and then the other.

His scent flashes out from him, stronger than before, and a bite to it that spurs me on.

“Megan,” he whispers.

I flatten my hands against his stomach and run my thumbs along the sensitive line where his thighs fade into his hips.

This time, instead of another pulse of his apple, it’s a small noise in the back of his throat, a mix between a moan and a whine.

A bead of pre-cum pools at the head of his cock.

All at once, the desire to see it dripping down his shaft, see our combined releases making a mess of him after my lock releases, is all I can imagine. My core heats and pulses.

“I—”

Whatever he’s about to say chokes off, though, as I run my lips along the underside of his cock.

It jerks against my mouth as he gasps. His legs stiffen around me and his stomach flexes.

And the noise he makes as my mouth closes over the head of him?

As my tongue licks away the small, salty bit of liquid and then flattens so I can take him deep?

It’s better than anything I’ve ever heard in my life.

All at once, my control is gone. Nothing is more important than feeling him inside me, getting him deep enough I’ll still feel him days from now.

I pull away from him with an audible pop.

His hips flex, trying to follow me, and then he groans.

I strip out of my clothes, letting them fall off the end of the bed.

His gaze is rapt on me, soaking in every inch of my body.

“Megan, you’re so beautiful,” he says, his voice so low and breathy, it sends a shiver down my spine. “I want to touch you.”

That part of me that wants to make an Omega happy—wants to give everything my Omega could possibly want—slams against my ribs, trying to get out.

I quiet it with the feel of his skin as I straddle him, my knees pressing into his sides as I grind into him, covering his dick with my wetness.

A whine bubbles up his throat, and his hands clench.

It slams again, and I feed it the small tremors that course through him as I slowly rise, guiding his cock to my entrance.

It slams again, and I force it silent as I sink onto him without pretense.

No soft seduction, no slow adjustment for either of us.

Before he can take another breath, he’s seated to the hilt, my hips brushing his.

His head tosses back, stretching his throat, as he practically shouts.

“Holy God,” I mutter.

Fuck, he’s big. The stretch is almost a burn with him, so different from the last several partners I’ve had. I roll my hips, and he shakes under me.

“Next time I’ll let you touch me,” I whisper.

I ease up until only the head of his cock is still inside me.

I pause there, watching as his body strains under me, tries to rise to meet me.

I adjust so my shins lay over his thighs, making him unable to move.

He whines, and it’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever heard.

When I slam back down, harder than before, he curses.

“Next time I’ll let it be pretty and sweet,” I say. “But this time… Fuck, not this time, Omega.”

He doesn’t fight me—because, Jesus, he might just be perfect for me. His eyes grow hazy as he pants under me. His tongue runs along his lip.

“Yes, Alpha,” he whispers.

With a moan, I move again, falling into a hard, rough pace that has my thighs burning and heat sizzling just under my skin.

I let my eyes close, tipping my head back as I try to drown in the feel of him.

He groans with every slide. He gasps with every twist of my hips.

My release barrels toward me, faster than it’s ever been.

I grind my hips into his, and he groans.

“Megan, you need to come.” He sucks in a sharp breath. I tighten around him, clenching my walls as I rise again. “Holy hell. I can’t?—”

His words choke off as his orgasm rushes through him as I slide back down.

The feel of his body tightening beneath me has me falling right over the edge.

I collapse forward, barely catching myself with my hands beside his head, as the waves crash through me.

It feels like they go on forever. Cole arches under me as my lock tightens, and I feel him twitch inside me.

“Holy hell. I didn’t know—didn’t think— Fuck .” He swallows, and I kiss the spot just under his ear. I’ve never heard him cuss so much. It makes me smile. “I’ve never had two happen so fast like that.”

Satisfaction burns through me. Without opening my eyes, I undo the rope, knowing the feel of the knots so intimately I don’t need to see them. His arms are around me in an instant, pulling me closer to him as he buries his head in my shoulder. He shakes under me, and it only adds to my own bliss.

The horrid feeling I left the hospital with is gone.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

His laugh is breathless, disbelieving. “The honor is all mine, Megan. Holy Jesus Christ.”