Page 57 of The Boss Omega
In the bathroom, I dig through the piles of shopping bags until I find one of the nighties. Might as well go all-in on the fantasy, right? It’s the dark green set that Graham chose. It includes a balconette bra, sheer thong panties, and a belt that cinches in my waist and connects to two garters by thin, silky ribbons. I look in the bathroom mirror before I go back out. Graham Wiley has excellent taste.
When I return, he’s removed his shirt, giving me a heavenly view of his lean body and all the tattoos I haven’t had time to map yet. His sweatpants are tenting at the front.
“You look like a present,” he whispers, like he still can’t believe it. It makes my chest do something complicated.
I don’t hesitate. I’m in his arms, hands clutched in his curls.
He throws me onto my pile of pillows. My back hits the nest and fresh slick gushes out of me. I did not expect that from him. My omega didn’t either. We’re both delighted.
I make a mental note to tell him to trust his instincts because they are spot on.
So good,my omega agrees.
He crawls between my open legs and pushes my panties to the side. He pauses, his mouth against my inner thigh.
"I was so jealous of Silas that first night." He says it quietly, like a confession. "I wanted it to be my tongue on you. My fingers in you."
He licks me in one long stripe from my dripping hole to my clit, then groans as though I'm the best thing he's ever tasted. His fingers plunge in. Two thick digits stretching me instantly and curl hard against that spot that makes stars explode behind my eyes.
“Graham. Yes,” I moan, hips jerking against his face. The words are dragged from my lips. How could he think he wouldn’t be enough? I lace my fingers in his hair and pull his face closer to my sex.
He chuckles. “Greedy omega.”
Greedy, yes. Starving. I’ll never get enough of him.
He sucks and thrusts until I fall apart. My thighs clamp tight to his head, trapping him as I buck and scream beneath him.
When the waves of pleasure relent, he looks up. Smug. “Come here, beautiful.”
He stands and I crawl toward him. With shaky hands I pull down his sweats. His cock is hard and proud, a bead of pre-cum at the tip. I lean my head in and taste him. Chocolate and hazelnut burst on my tongue, rich and addictive.
“Mmm,” I moan around his length, sucking harder. I bob my head as far as I can. He’s so long I can only take half of him before he’s hitting the back of my throat. But I don’t stop.
He fists his hand in my hair. “Lark, you—”
He doesn’t finish the sentence when I pull my cheeks in and suck him as hard as I can.
A tremor of satisfaction rolls through him. “Fuck,” he hisses. “That’s enough, beautiful.” He
My omega whines in protest.
He runs a long finger over my lower lip. “None of that. I want to be inside you when I come.”
He sits down on the edge of the nest facing the open armoire doors. “Sit on my lap. Face the mirrors.”
I do as he asks, hooking my legs on the outside of his.
He reaches forward, moving my panties to one side and then pushes me forward until there’s room for him to position his head at my entrance. I sink onto him slowly, feeling every thick inch stretch my walls.
“Fuck, you’re big.” My pussy flutters around him, trying to adjust to the impossible fullness.
He grunts as he tentatively pushes up in me.
My body opens to him. “More,” I whine.
Our hips rock until I’m fully seated.
I look at our reflections. His left hand is on my hip, guiding my body so we rock together. His right is on my breast, alternating between kneading my soft tissue and pinching my overstimulated nipples.
