Page 29 of Shared Omega

Behind me, on the other side of the room, Dog spits, and a moment later, I hear the slick sounds of his stroking.

Inside my tattered shorts, my panties dampen with my arousal as I picture his member in my mind’s eye—long and thick and engorged with desire.

My fingers slip inside my panties and I touch myself, skin on skin. My parting is wetter than it’s ever been before—so wet that it’s trickling down my inner thighs.

“Oh fuck,” I whisper, sucking air between my teeth.

My sex is almost too tender to touch, but I can’t help myself. I have to do it. It’s not only a matter of diminishing my scent. My lust is almost overwhelming now, and I need some kind of release or I’m going to scream.

I touch my tingling clit, rubbing it in a circular rhythm, keeping time with the slick sounds of Dog’s jacking behind me.

A sudden impulse comes over me to turn around and look at him, but I catch myself as I remember that all of this is being monitored. Everything that I see is recorded by my neural implant and transmitted back to SynerGen for Frostgrave’s viewing pleasure.

But the temptation is too great.

I can’t resist.

I only steal one quick glance over my shoulder, but in that instant I get more than an eyeful.

Dog has completely disrobed, dropping his shorts to the floor, and he is now standing in the buff. His broad, muscular back is sheened with sweat and painted with silvery stripes of moonlight like a white tiger’s pelt. His hard, powerful butt clenches tightly as he violently pumps his cock into his fist, grunting with each thrust.

When I turn back around, the image of that perfect male backside stays burned in my mind’s eye. I rub myself even harder, yet somehow it’s not working. My arousal continues mounting, but I can’t find my climax.

“Please,” I whisper so softly to myself, begging my own body to just give in and release this building tension.

My tattered shorts are constrictive, and it’s hard to maneuver. I slide them down so I can touch myself more freely.

Behind me, Dog lets out a deep groan.

For a moment I think he has spilled his semen, but when the slick friction of his fist and shaft continues, I know that’s not the case. Then I realize what’s causing him to make those noises.

My scent. My omega scent.

Unconstrained by my clothing, the odors wafting from my naked sex must be even more intense than before.

I need to finish this, and now.

Sliding my middle finger between my folds, I press inside my hole, stroking my soft inner tissue while simultaneously grinding my palm against my aching clit. My finger, however, isn’t quite long enough. I can’t quite reach my special, tender place inside.

“Please,” I whisper again, barely more than a mere exhalation.

My pussy is swollen and pulsing with desire. My crotch and thighs are smeared with my fluids. I feel so fucking horny that it hurts, and if I don’t come soon, I think I just might explode.

“Please…”

A sudden and unexpected touch causes me to gasp with fright.

Twin hands, gentle but strong, grip my bare shoulders and pull me back until I find myself pressed against a rock-hard, lightly furred chest and carved abdominals that conform perfectly to the curvature of my lower back.

And below that, something even harder prods against the cleft of my naked butt where my shorts are pulled down.

“Dog,” I whisper.

How did he cross the room without making so much as a sound?

He envelops we with his strong arms and his even stronger animal musk. His warm breath ghosts over the top of my head and down my face. One massive hand slides down my belly toward the joining of my thighs.

“Wait,” I gasp, catching his wrist just as his fingertips reach the top of my tuft. “Don’t…”