My heart caught in my throat, rattling to mark the seconds before they came through, then was drowned out by my whine. There he was, like a creature of indolent beauty as he lay on his bed, the white sheet shoved down to display every muscle under that golden brown skin but hiding what I needed to see, while the light caught every trail of slick that had dried on his chest and abs overnight.
K: So hot. More, baby.
T: More?
I watched the little triple dots form and then disappear and then form again in the text window.
T: What do you need?
K: You, Tris. Please, I’m dying here. Show me what you’d give me if I’d just finished riding your face. Show me how hard you’d be.
T: Always, love.
Another photo came through, then another, then another, my eyes and fingers flicking wildly to zoom in, suck down every detail—the rigid length of his cock, the way his hand gripped it brutally, the crown a furious dark red. But it was the last one that had my fingers diving between my sodden folds, slick coating my fingers. He stared at the camera, at me, in a way that felt like there was no gap at all between us. He gazed into my soul as my fingers circled my clit in response.
T: I want the same.
He knew I couldn’t. Naked photos of well-bred omegas had made it into the tabloids for the masses to slaver over, destroying reputations. Even what we did here was risky, but I couldn’t seem to stop.
K: Fuck, Tris. I’m needy.
The little dots seemed to go on forever and ever as he formulated his reply, my teeth locking down tight as my fingers started to circle my clit. Then my phone rang.
“Tris?”
“I’ve got what you need, omega. You touching that pretty little pussy?”
“Yes…”
“You strumming that pert little clit? Making it sit up and beg for my touch, my tongue?”
“Fuck, yes, Tris. I need you—”
“I know, baby.” The iron in his voice softened, becoming something much softer, much sweeter. “Touch it like I would, make your slick coat your thighs. String it out until you’re begging for me.”
My only answer was a small gasp, met by his moan. My ears were finely tuned, hearing him shift on the bed, knowing exactly what he’d be doing, how he’d be doing it. I’d watched him touch himself early on in our relationship, after we’d just learned what we were.
Dad was away and Theo was off at some event, so it was just Tris and me in the house. We were about nineteen when thi
s happened, taking with both hands the opportunity provided by the empty house.
“I want to show you,” Tris said, standing before me, the light streaming in through my bedroom window. “I want to show you what I’ve become.”
I knew he was an omega, like I knew I was. I felt it deep inside. He took my silence as approval, hands going to the hem of his shirt and then whipping it up and over his head in one quick movement to the sound of my gasp. He’d smiled then, standing there in just a pair of jeans, that muscular body on display. He was beautiful, with the kind of lithe strength that came from swimming lap after lap at the omega academy pool, and as he shifted, every muscle group tensed and flexed.
“That’s just the sound a man wants to hear when he pulls his shirt off,” he’d said, trying for cocky and achieving it, mostly. But that slight tremor in his voice… “My body’s changed, and I want you to see that.”
I’d just nodded, not trusting my voice to speak. My mouth was bone-dry as I just stared. He bent his head, his hands going to the button of his jeans and undoing it, then stripping the clothing off until he was bare.
Omega girls, they talked a lot about the omega boys, about what they were packing, because in some ways, they were our competition. We were all supposed to be vying to catch the eye of a hot alpha and never really had that much to do with each other for very long, due to natural competitiveness. I could size up Jeanette’s arse or whether or not Yasmine’s boobs were fake, but the boys? Some were sweeter, softer, prettier than we were, and others? Others were like Tristan, as I was about to find out.
They could pass as a beta, even an alpha sometimes, but under their clothes… His hand wrapped around the considerable length of his cock, the first I’d seen this close up. We’d touched each other over clothes, particularly before we revealed as omegas, fumbling towards adult behaviours, but now? I licked my lips, and a small whine escaped Tris in response. Then a little spurt of something clear erupted from the end of his cock, wetting the crown and trickling down his shaft.
“I want…” he panted, his hand beginning to move, stroking and squeezing his dick. “I want…”
I was up and off the bed, knowing exactly what he wanted, what this was. We’d spoken about it at length, about what this meant for us now that our bodies had become something other than we’d hoped for. Would he be able to get hard for another omega? He assured me he would and had. Would the natural antipathy of omegas force us apart? Never. Would we be able to gain satisfaction together? Well, we were about to find out. I moved closer, then closer still, reaching for him, moving until my mouth hovered over his.
“Fuck, Kit…”