Page 35 of The Sad Omega

“Trust me,” I whispered as I stroked his hair. “Let me show you how this can be.”

Gently, I nuzzled his neck, licking and pressing soft kisses from his hairline to the hollow of his shoulder. Then I gently pressed him backwards onto the bed, where he lay trembling, as I shucked off my shoes and socks and tossed them away, undoing my fly and dragging my jeans off before climbing onto the bed beside him.

Moving slowly, I leaned closer. His warm breath brushed over my face. This close, I could smell his sweet omega scent, the scent that was just him, Isca, not the strong heady scent of his arousal which flooded the room. The golden depths of his eyes gazed into mine, pupils wide in fear and lust. He ran his pink tongue over his lips and bit the lower one. It was a plump pink lip, and it reddened up where his teeth marked it.

Carefully, slowly, giving him plenty of time to move away if he didn’t want this, I lowered my lips to his and kissed that sweet mouth. He trembled but he didn’t turn away. He gave me a cautious, tremulous kiss in response.

His body was burning hot and I could smell his slick. I was vibrating with the supreme effort of controlling myself in the presence of his arousal. I wanted to touch his skin. I wanted to get closer. I wanted to get inside him.

“Take your shirt off,” I tried to keep my alpha growl out of my voice, but only half-succeeded.

He hesitated. Maybe he felt safer with it on.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to,” I backtracked, wanting him to feel safe. But I stripped mine off. I was already far too hot and it would only get worse.

I ran my hands under his t-shirt, caressing the hot skin. His chest and abdomen were smooth and hairless. He squirmed as I ran my hands over him, and groaned when I tweaked a nipple. Pushing his shirt up, I licked at one nipple, circling it with my tongue and then sucking it into my mouth. He moaned, and thrashed his head on the pillow, back arching. I would have liked to bite it, but it might have been too much for him. I had to go carefully with my Isca.

I slid my hands down further and undid his fly, pulling the jeans down over his ass. Isca quickly kicked them the rest of the way off. My nostrils quivered at the intense scent of slick.

His underwear was soaked, his slick running hard, and I stripped them off him, then slid a finger inside him. He was hot and wet and my cock pulsed in my boxers. Isca moaned. The blood roared in my ears. My wolf was raging to be set free, his instincts too strong to understand that the omega in front of him needed careful handling. Luckily, my human side was still in control. For now.

I slid a second finger inside him. His hole clenched around them. I groaned. It was heaven and hell going so slow. I used a third finger, stretching him. He moaned brokenly.

Suddenly, it wasn’t enough. I pulled my fingers out. Isca whimpered.

I rolled him over, tearing off my boxers at the same time. Isca got up on his knees, ass in the air, presenting to me. The smell of slick was overpowering, I was losing my mind. I pressed my cockhead against his hole and eased in. Isca moaned. Sweat soaked the fabric on his back and I pushed his t-shirt up so the air could cool him. I pressed in further, his tight hole clinging to me, tormenting me as I steadily invaded his body.

Isca growled. His wolf was taking over. I slid my hand up over his chest and tweaked a nipple. He grunted and bucked.

“Fuck me!” he begged, his voice strained.

I slid further inside him until I was as deeply seated as possible, then as I began to withdraw, he protested, whimpering loudly and sobbing. Almost at his entrance, I thrust back in hard. He keened. I repeated it, thrusting harder each time. He got up on his arms and thrust back against me, impaling himself on my dick.

“More!” he demanded.

I gave him more.

Isca was on his hands and knees on the bed trembling and moaning, sweat dripping from his heated skin. I bent over him, buried deep inside him, thrusting deeply. His body was like a furnace and he was slippery with slick, and it took all my control not to come right then and there, but I wanted this to be good for him, and I didn’t want to come until he had.

I heard a moan from the corner of the room, and quickly glanced across at Irian. He was absorbed in the scene in front of him, stroking himself as he watched us. It seemed my mate was a filthy voyeur and I tucked that delightful thought away for another time. For now, the moaning omega in front of me needed my full attention.

Our sweaty bodies slipped over each other as I thrust. Isca’s moans grew deeper. When I thought he was close, I slipped my hand around beneath him and began stroking his cock. Precum was weeping freely from his slit, and I used my hand to smear it over him as I stroked, matching the pace with the thrusting of my hips. I fucked him harder, and faster. I felt him stiffen and he cried out as he shattered, shooting long bursts of cum all over my hand and the bed. He collapsed, soft and pliant, moaning blissfully. Several more thrusts and I felt my balls tighten and draw up, and I felt my knot begin to form as my own orgasm began to roll through me. For a moment, my brain buzzed and the world spun, as ecstasy rocked me. Then I realized that Isca had tensed up beneath me and was shaking again.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him, out of breath and unsure what had changed.

At first, he didn’t reply, continuing to tremble. A sob choked out of him.

“Isca, sweetheart, tell me what’s wrong, I want this to be good for you but you need to talk to me.”

“Your knot,” he shook harder as the words tumbled out. “It’s going to hurt. It always hurts.” A moment ago he had been delighted, had given himself up to the pleasure, but now he sounded defeated, terrified but resigned.

I didn’t understand.

And then I did.

Zarbius was a sadist. Poor Isca. I knew what he’d done. He’d pulled out of Isca while the knot was still engaged.

“No, I won’t hurt you,” I said soothingly. “Try to relax, it’s going to be wonderful.”