Omega Reimagined volume 1 Page 2

  Chapter 2

  We slept in bursts. First he’d sleep, drained by orgasm, and then I’d finally drift off when exhaustion overcame arousal, only to be awakened again by a needy omega crawling over my body trying to fuck himself on it. I’d get him off again, though it was taking more effort and distraction each time to do it without fucking him. The cat naps he was getting in between assaults on my person were having their effect. He was getting stronger, more coherent, and, with that, more insistent about what he really wanted. Hand jobs, though I don’t suppose anyone would say no to one, weren’t what an alpha was for.

  The last time he’d woken, I’d had to go as far as fucking a few fingers into his ass in order to sate him. When he’d dropped back into sleep after, I’d brought those fingers to my mouth to lick them clean and wondered why I was torturing myself like this. He was a claimed omega. I could fuck him or I could walk away from him. I didn’t need to suffer for him.

  The next time he woke me up, he just about had my dick in his ass. I was hard—of course; still—and he was on top of me—sliding down onto me—when my eyes flew open with the realization that I wasn’t having another hopeful dream.

  “Bad boy,” I said, but I said it gently so as not to devastate him. Omegas in heat were sensitive to rejection. I lifted his sorrowful-self off of me and settled him down on his back. It was nearly sunrise, I noted. I could see him again, more than just feel him and smell him.

  He had typical wolf hair—long and shaggy around his face. Our hair grew too fast for most of us to bother trying to keep it trimmed, though I made myself an exception. His dark skin and darker hair suggested he’d been born to the Western Pack. His pelt would be black when he shifted, an exotic rarity in my Northern Pack.

  A few days without shaving meant he had a half-beard bristling around his jawline and across the lower curve of his cheeks. In the midst of all that hair, his dark brown eyes gleamed with the fever his heat put on him. He was more alert this morning, but hardly more sane.

  “Alpha,” he whimpered, the single word both an apology and a plea.

  “What’s your name?” I asked. I kept a hand on his chest to hold him back from me.

  “Leonard. Leo.”

  “I’m Angel.”

  “My guardian angel,” he said with a worshipful grin. “You took such good care of me last night. Let me thank you?” The forward pressure of his chest against my hand never stilled. Though I knew he couldn’t win against me, it felt like he was winning.

  “Feeling better?”

  He nodded.

  “What do you need? Food? Water?”

  “Knot.”

  I frowned at him. “No knot, Leonard. You’re claimed. You have an alpha.”

  I’d convinced myself last night that if my omega were for some reason suffering his heat away from me, I’d want someone to help him, but my definition of help didn’t go as far as knotting. In the world Leonard and I came from, fucking was generally reserved for mates, but knotting especially. I might have removed myself from that world for the time being, but I couldn’t knot another alpha’s omega.

  Leonard shook his head. “He’s gone.”

  “Gone, like dead?”

  “Just gone.” He closed the final inch of the very small space that had separated us. How had that happened? I was definitely stronger than this lust-weakened omega. But however it had happened, his body now brushed fully against me, his hard cock teasing the length of mine. His fingers trailed across my stomach. I barely caught them before they caught me.

  “I need you, Alpha. Please? Knot me?”

  That was the limit. It really was. First, I’d smelled omega. Then I’d seen omega. I’d even survived touching omega and that little, bitty taste I’d had of omega. But hearing omega—his begging, pleading, seductive, sweetly-submissive, you’re-my-god omega voice? It was too much.

  I jumped out of bed like there was a shark in it rather than a man. A shark would have been safer. In a shark/shapeshifter fight, a wolf could—

  Yeah, OK. Not the time to get distracted with that.

  Leonard had sat up when I’d made my sudden exit and was reaching after me, determined to entangle me back into that slick-and-come-coated bed.

  “Stay,” I ordered. I took a big step back to where his arms couldn’t reach me and tried to make my voice level. “You, uh, seem to be doing better now.”

  There was no question the heat still had a grip on him—the scent rolled off him in waves—but he was coherent enough to be seductive. That pout-face was designed to appeal. What was it about plump, pouty lips surrounded by facial hair that got me so revved up? I hadn’t kissed him last night, but I wanted to now.

  “So I’m just going to get going,” I said as I continued to ease myself backwards. Where were my clothes? My declaration would be more convincing if my dick weren’t pointing straight at him like it had locked onto a target. “I have to get to work.” And Great Mother, did I need a shower. I was steeped in his scent.

  “But you’re my angel,” he protested with a soft, soft voice. He rose to his knees, not quite bold enough to leave the bed when I’d ordered him to stay, but pushing at the edges of my order. “I need you. Need you.”

  His hands slid up the backs of my thighs and—

  Wait, how was that possible? Leo was on the bed, where I’d ordered him to be, and I was halfway out the door, heading for the bathroom where I assumed I’d left my clothes, only I wasn’t halfway out the door. I was standing directly in front of him experiencing the silken slide of his hands as they traveled up my legs and around to cup my ass. I was watching his mouth descend towards my dick, his tongue peeping out from it to get a head start.

  “No, Leonard,” I said, though I didn’t manage to make it into an order. “You have an alpha.”

  “You’re alpha.”

  “But I’m not your alpha. We really shouldn’t—“

  “Alpha,” he repeated in that mesmerizingly adoring tone.

  “Leonard.” I stroked along the back of his head, possibly urging it forward.

  “Leo.” I canted my hips into the nose that snuffled at the base of my cock.

  “Little one.” I could no longer blame his voice for what I was allowing to happen, because his mouth was quite full of dick now, only happy hums escaping from it.

  “You can’t—”

  But oh Great Mother, he could. Omegas sucked the best cock. There wasn’t a wolf alive who didn’t know that. Human men, human women, betas, alphas—I’d tried them all at some point or another but this… this was why alphas mated.

  It was a race between his mouth and my knees, and if he wasn’t so goddamned good I’d have been sure my knees would win, that I couldn’t possibly remain standing in the face of such dizzying pleasure long enough for him to finish me off, but since “long enough” looked to be about thirty seconds, I was maybe going to manage it. In my defense, it’d been a rough night.

  When I was about one tongue flick or testicle squeeze away from bursting, he pulled off me.

  “Knot.”

  I groaned. Fucking devious little omega.

  “You know I can’t do that.”

  “Fuck me?”

  Yeah, I could do that, couldn’t I? Could I? I could fuck him without knotting him. I’d never knotted anyone before. No reason I’d suddenly start now. It was such a relief to realize that—to see a way past the blinding arousal towards the vision of infinite fulfilment his body promised—that I was stretched out on top of him before I remembered that I hadn’t intended to fuck him either.

  “Gods wait,” I muttered—to him or to myself, I didn’t know. Didn’t matter. Neither of us listened.

  He squirmed up closer to me, his ass sliding along my dick seekingly, trying to get it inside him where we both wanted it.

  No knot, I told myself as I pushed into him. Fuck him, come, pull out.

  In my younger years, when I’d been more selfish than not, I’d visited the local omega bars hunting out willing o
megas despite the warnings Mr. Bowen had issued in sophomore year Alpha class. Previously-claimed omegas might present as eager for a quick no-strings fuck, he’d told us, but they were really trying to trap you. Omegas had their ways, he’d said. Omegas would use your own body against you. You might think you wouldn’t knot them, but you would.

  That was part of the appeal, I suppose, to a hotshot young alpha who’d thought he ruled the entire world, up to and including his own body. Fucking previously-claimed omegas was a challenge: alpha roulette. Success made me high and when, occasionally, the story would circulate of this or that alpha who’d fallen to temptation, who’d knotted a previously-claimed omega and found himself smitten, trapped, mated, I’d been far from forewarned by their experience. No, I’d been smug, more determined than ever to prove that I could fuck without consequences.

  Selfish, like I said. Young, dumb, thinking the world owed me, trying to make it pay up.

  Leo didn’t smell like a previously-claimed omega. He smelled like a claimed omega, as faint as that claim might be. But he also smelled like omega in heat.

  I wasn’t as selfish as I used to be, but I was every bit as stupid. The moment my dick was in his ass, I knew I’d lost. My knot was already forming. There was a brief window of time when I could have pulled out, but I didn’t have the willpower to do it. Nothing had ever felt as good as my knot expanding inside the ass of an omega in heat. Nothing.

  I’d thought my knot and I were well-acquainted. I’d first met it in my early teen years, pride and joy rushing to combine with the pleasure of orgasm the first time it popped up under my swiftly-stroking hand. That feeling—a bubbling tickle of potential—had surfaced to some extent most times I’d fucked and sometimes when I jacked off. In the presence of a partner, I squelched it. Alone, I encouraged it. The knot added not just an extra boost of sensation—it was a sign of potency. That same pride I’d experienced the first time always returned, though with nothing like the same strength.

  So I thought I knew my knot—its dimensions, its purpose, its perks.

  I was so, so wrong.

  That initial buzz—the one I could have pulled back from—maybe—if I’d been a masochistic self-control freak—the one that was familiar from countless bouts of self-pleasuring—that buzz was gone two long, beautiful strokes later, swamped by the glory of a full knot swelling inside hot omega ass.

  Oh, weak baby knots that have come before: bow down in the face of the king knot.

  I’d like to say that I was being attentive to Leo, that I cared that I was pleasing him and ensuring he got what he needed, but I was way too far gone for that. Leo was gone with me, though. What little I could sense beyond knot, knot, knot told me that he and I had our minds focused on the same twelve inch radius. There was no kissing. There was no talking. There was no pawing or petting or stroking. There was only fucking—my growing knot (how could it still be growing?) popping with delicious friction in and out of the slick, stretchiness of his hole.

  With every stroke, my knot expanded, and with every expansion, the force required to ram it back into him increased, and with every extra ounce of force I put into my thrusts, Leo’s squealing moans raised in tone and in volume, and I rather think mine answered his, though I could hardly hear anything above the squelching sound my knot made when it breached his hole one more time—the sound of pleasure being wrung out of me.

  “Knot,” he crooned, his voice a perfect reflection of how unbearably good it all was.

  I came; he came. It wasn’t a matter of a mere moment, because I had this knot thing going on and though it was now lodged firmly, and perhaps irrevocably, inside him, it wasn’t done. Not by a long shot. And neither was he.

  “Knot, knot, knot,” he sang to himself as come continued to leak out of his dick and all over both of us. I knew the mechanics of it—what they’d taught us in Health class—that my knot was now lodged against his prostate and that his prostate was now jammed against my knot, and that the symbiotic pressure would feel good to both of us, releasing mating pheromones and facilitating a claim. It just turned out to be one of those things you had to feel instead of know.

  I’d have been happy to never move again, but I had just enough energy left to roll us over so that I could collapse without squishing him, though it wasn’t clear he’d have noticed if I did. He’d stopped singing “knot, knot, knot,” but I was pretty sure those were the words to the tune he was humming.

  On my back with him splayed over me, I took the time I hadn’t before to kiss and pet. My knot throbbed so happily inside him that I couldn’t help but be grateful, to be entranced. And he kissed back between hums, scrabbling his hands over me in joyful exploration.

  I dipped my hand down to the place where we were joined, wanting to enjoy from the outside what I was enjoying from the inside. He was stretched so wide around me, and I was so firmly embedded in him. He hummed a little deeper and rocked on top of me and man, did that feel good. Good enough that we both came again, or what passed for coming. We were low on fluids by then.

  They say that all good things must end, which explains why I fell asleep. As my knot receded, so did my consciousness, until there was nothing but warm omega in my arms and a soft bed under my back.

  I woke to find him watching me from the foot of the bed—his eyes, for the first time, more wary than aroused. Rightfully so. There was a strange wolf in his bed who’d taken advantage of the fact that he was biologically indisposed, though I could make the argument that he’d done the same to me. It was what Mr. Bowen had warned us about. I didn’t imagine Leo had done it on purpose—and I couldn’t claim an already-claimed omega anyway—but it was what Mr. Bowen had warned us about. You couldn’t unknot an omega once you’d knotted him.

  He didn’t speak, so apparently that was my job.

  “I, uh…” Yeah, I wasn’t going to be good at that job.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Angel,” I reminded him. He’d been pretty fogged, I guess.

  “Your name is really Angel? I thought that was something my fever came up with. Because you were, you know, rescuing me. Plus you kind of look like an angel.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. No one had ever thought my name was apropos before.

  “The hair?” I asked. My hair was blond, white-blond, like my pelt was white. And my eyes were the ice blue that most of my pack shared. My coloring was common amongst my people but humans found it more remarkable. And Western wolves, apparently. I wondered if a teenaged Leo had beat off to pictures of wolves who looked like me the way I’d beat off to pictures of wolves who looked like him.

  He nodded, his eyes still wary and mostly downcast.

  “How do you feel?” I asked him.

  “Embarrassed. For what it’s worth, that wasn’t me last night.”

  “Yeah, well, it wasn’t my plan to take advantage of you either.”

  “I think I begged you to.”

  “Maybe we could laugh about it?” Fact was, none of it could be undone now and neither of us had had wrong intentions.

  “Not very amusing from where I’m sitting.” His eyes had been focused down, whether from shame or deference, I couldn’t say, but he picked them up now to glare at me. “I just had sex with a wolf I didn’t know, begged him to knot me without even knowing his name, and that’s after you’d already spent all night— Look, I know you tried, OK? You tried to hold me off, but I was so fucking pathetically needy—‍”

  “OK, whoa, OK? Stop a second. First of all, you did know my name. You were just a little vague on the fact that it was my name because, whatever, your brain was all fogged up. Second, your brain was all fogged up. And third—”

  I’d thought at first he was mad at me, and I’d been willing to accept that as perfectly reasonable under the circumstances, but I now realized he was mad at himself and that I couldn’t accept, because he was sad and I’d just knotted him and my own foggy brain was telling me that I needed to fix whatever had him upset.

/>   “Third what?”

  “Could you come here?” I shifted closer to him on the bed and held out my arms. It took more than a few seconds for him to decide to scooch over but I treated him like a rabbit I was about to spring on, luring him in through stillness and patience.

  When he’d made it most of the way across those feet that separated us, I pulled him into my lap. He wasn’t a little thing—only a few inches shorter and maybe forty pounds lighter than I was—but he felt right in my arms, like he filled them. I nuzzled my nose down into his dark hair. I could still smell heat on him. He had a respite now, a moment of clarity, but the need would be back.

  “Third,” I said, “that was the most amazingly wonderful experience of my life, so I’d appreciate it if we didn’t go straight from amazing to appalled. I like this: cuddling with you.”

  He tucked his head so it fit more snugly beneath my chin. “I don’t know you though,” he said, but his voice no longer rang with self-directed anger. It was more a statement of fact than an accusation.

  “So we’ll get to know each other. We have some time now before it hits again.”

  “Are you going to… again?”

  “Since I’m helping, I might as well help.” And since it was amazing, I might as well enjoy it. “Unless you don’t want me to.”

  “I…. Let’s be honest: whatever I say now, I’m going to want you to then.”

  “But if you tell me no now, then I won’t.” Except I would. “I could leave.”

  “I don’t want you to leave,” he said in a small voice.

  “This heat’s been bad, huh?”

  He nodded, the top of his head brushing under my chin.

  “You must be through the worst of it now, though. When did it start?”

  “Sunday.”

  “Sunday? But today’s— Fuck.” Today was Friday and there were two facts about today being Friday that burst into my consciousness simultaneously. One: he’d been in heat a long fucking time. And two: I was supposed to be at work. “What time is it? Where’s my phone?”

  The time, I could tell, was well past sun-up. The phone, I could only guess, was still on Leo’s bathroom floor.