CHAPTER 21
OLIVE
I’ve never been so turnedon in my life.
I push Dylan’s cock past my gag reflex, forcing myself to remain calm as the scent of his arousal fills me.
Grinding my ass against the blankets, an orgasm builds in me, my body over sensitized.
As his hips thrust, his growls intensify, and I’m desperate to see him come undone.
But not before I find my release, my hand moving from his muscled ass cheek to my pussy.
He moans, and my core seeps with slick.
“Touch yourself,” he commands, his voice rough and low. “Let me see you come again. Moan around my cock,please.”
Something about hearing Dylan beg sends me over the edge as I circle my clit roughly, my thighs shaking as I struggle to stay upright.
He grabs the back of my neck, holding me to him as I scream on his length, spit dripping down my chin as I choke.
“Fuck,fuck,” he chants. “God, your mouth is perfect, my perfect Omega,fuck—”
He roars and his cock pulses, shooting his cum down my throat.
“Baby, I’m gonna knot,” he gasps. “I need to pull out, I’m gonna knot—”
But I push his hips, swallowing what he gives me, as he slowly inflates.
“Fuuuuck,” he groans, pulling out of my mouth, working his thick length with his hand as cum spurts from his tip. I keep my mouth open, letting him shoot it on my tongue as he watches in wonder.
“Can I watch you swallow?” He whispers, his eyes dark. “Will you swallow it?”
I hold my mouth open, showing him how much of his seed I have on my tongue. Then, I make a show of licking my lips and swallowing.
Maybe it’s my inner Omega losing her mind, but I imagine him painting my body with his cum.
I imagine begging for it.
Then, as he stands over me, panting, I promptly collapse on the blankets.
* * *
Someone is kissingmy lips gently. Softly.
I open my eyes to see Dylan nuzzling into his cheek as he continues to kiss my chin, my throat, and back up to my lips.
“Hi,” I whisper. I’m tucked into bed, under a new pile of clean, dry blankets. Dylan lies next to me above the covers, his hand caressing my cheek.
He looks at me at me with such reverence that I blush.
“Hi,” he whispers back, grinning.
“How long have I been out?” I ask, shifting in the blankets. I catch the faintest hint of woodsy soap, and I realize it’s coming from my skin.
“About an hour,” he says gently. “I cleaned you up. I hope that was alright.”
My heart aches at his kindness, and I reach out to caress the light blonde stubble on his cheek. “Of course,” I whisper. “You’re too sweet to me.”