Page 22 of Glitterati Omega

Rupert glanced up from under his fringe. “It’s the truth. I was … sick. And … and …”

“Is that why your marriage ended?”

The question was like a knife, unexpectedly stabbing Rupert in the back, then sawing him open. He looked down at his feet. “Well,” he started, unsure of how to put into words everything that had gone wrong with Thomas. “Part of it.”

“Mm.”

He looked up, hating the judgmental tone in the lawyer’s voice. “But not all of it. But—what does that matter? I’m not married now. I haven’t—I’m not …”

The alpha crossed his arms. He looked down, a long, slow exhale escaping him.

“I’m asking nicely,” Rupert pressed, feeling emboldened by the fact Winston hadn’t flat-out said no. “Are you really going to turn me down?”

The lawyer lifted a brow, dark gaze raking up and down Rupert’s form.

Rupert toyed with the diamonds around his neck, liked the way they bit into his hand. “What if I confessed to you that this isn’t merely heat talking? I wanted you the moment I saw you.”

Winston’s eyebrows rose toward his hairline. “A bold confession,” he said. He drifted a little closer.

“And what if I then told you that, for the last two years, I haven’t had any inclination to … anyone, at all?” He dragged his hands up his thighs, realizing, belatedly, that he felt good, for the first time in a very long time.

He hardly remembered what good felt like; it had crept up on him, just like the heat pooling between his legs.

He glanced up at the alpha; Winston had taken another step toward him. “What if I told you this might be my last heat?” That got a confused look, but Rupert pressed on. “Would you really deny me then, leave me alone?”

Winston watched him for a moment longer, and slowly, it dawned on Rupert that he was still dragging his hands up and down his legs, stopping short of feeling himself up, but heavens above, had his skin ever felt this soft, this smooth against his fingertips? Reality was tactile and anything he couldn’t feel didn’t exist.

“You’re drunk,” Winston said finally. “You’re in heat. I am concerned that you’ll say yes now, then be distraught about it later.” He paused again. Then he added, voice notching lower, “But I can think of a fair few things I might do to you.”

If Rupert had been a bolder, more aggressive sort of omega, he would have tackled the alpha to the ground and demanded he act on that. Instead, he gripped the edges of his seat and tried to make it less obvious that he was grinding against it. “You needn’t worry,” he said. “I’ve had some ideas myself, about what you and I might get up to if the opportunity ever presented itself.” His face was on fire, and it had nothing to do with the fever of heat. “So you needn’t worry that I’ll sober up and …”

Winston was closer now, and that was distracting. He was making it even harder to think. Rupert peered up at the alpha, and Winston returned the look, gazing down at him with those dark eyes, and Rupert was struck with the urge to get his hands on that rich, smooth skin, to kiss those lips—

How would Winston feel against his skin? Better—maybe—than his own, or perhaps rougher, and Rupert thought about that with a sudden, crushing need—he needed touch like he needed air, needed—

He wasstarvingfor it.

Winston’s hand settled on his hip, heat bleeding through taffeta, and Rupert scarcely held back a whine. He needed something between his legs if they were going to keep going; it wasn’t fair for the alpha to tease him, to dangle this in his face, and then not deliver. “Well? Are we doing this?” He forced himself to meet the alpha’s gaze again. “If you’d still rather not, I understand—but I don’t want to be alone for this.”

Winston said nothing for the longest time, and Rupert’s breath caught—was the alpha going to send him home?

“Rupert.”

Oh, God, how wonderful his name sounded on the other man’s lips.

He couldn’t open his eyes. He couldn’t remember when he’d closed them.

“Will you let me take care of you? I want to try something.”

Anything, anything at all. “That depends on what it is.” He couldn’t just give the alpha carte blanche, now could he? Even though he wanted to.

Hands tightened on him, drawing him closer to the edge of the stool, closer to the alpha’s heat, his strength, and Rupert wanted to melt into a puddle. He was already dripping. He felt Winston’s breath ghost by his ear, shuddered. Everything was too much; he was on pins and needles, waiting, waiting—

“I’d like to eat you out. Would you be amenable to that?”

“Uh?” Rupert let his eyes open; he hadn’t expected that. Couldn’t quite process it. “You ... want to …?”

Winston nodded; his gaze was earnest. Rupert couldn’t fathom it. Intercourse, that was how it was supposed to go—he was supposed to spread his legs, let the alpha get their dick wet. That was what alphas wanted. Always.