Page 30 of Glitterati Omega

“Reassuring,” Rupert murmured, and Winston shook his head.

“I mean—I have no complaints. There’s a lovely omega all spread out on my table, no one else around—I have him all to myself.”

“You think,” Rupert started, then bit his lip when Winston pressed a finger into him. He let his head fall back when the alpha pushed another in not a moment later, thrusting them deep, then curling them and pressing—

Well,thatwas distracting. Felt wonderful, though, and he wanted to chase that sensation, feel it again. Whatever they’d been talking about seemed inconsequential now.

“I don’t want you to feel self-conscious,” Winston whispered to him. “I want you to feel so good you don’t even know your own name.”

“I highly doubt that’s possi—oh.” He stilled, then rocked his hips, chasing after those fingers as they drew down his passage, pressing delightfully along the top of it, and Rupert shivered.

“Let me try anyway,” Winston said. He was smiling when Rupert looked up at him, his gaze intent, and Rupert nodded his assent, because every nerve in his body was waking up to sensation.

The third finger was a bit ambitious—Rupert hadn’t taken much in a while, and heat never loosened him up the way it apparently did to other omegas. He had a good deal of pain most of the time. Now it seemed relatively absent, except for the burn of the stretch.

“All right?” the alpha asked.

“Yes. Fine. Great, even.”

Winston chuckled, then slowly pulled his fingers back out. “May I taste you now?”

Rupert felt a bit dizzy at the thought. He’d never been asked much before; it seemed novel to be told what would happen, to affirm that was what he wanted.

“Yes,” he said, because he did want it. Badly. He tensed around nothing, thinking about how he’d felt last night, Winston’s mouth, his lips, his tongue on him.

He groaned, first with anticipation and then with delight as Winston’s lips touched his own. He felt positively filthy thinking about himself like that, but he promptly forgot it as that devious tongue laved attention on seemingly every square inch of him, slipping and sliding between folds, ensuring nothing went untouched.

Rupert closed his eyes, unable to concentrate on seeing and making sense of the world. He was nerve endings, sensation, nothing more.

Heat crept up his spine, tingling pleasure knocking at every notch along the way, spreading from there. He’d never felt anything like it—excepting last night—and he tensed his hands around nothing, searching for something to hold on to.

His breath was ragged, even in his own ears; his panting turned to breathless “oh”s before a guttural moan clawed its way out of him, and then he had no control over his voice—hehadto groan, had to keen, had to tell all and sundry about how astoundingly wonderful it was to have the alpha’s tongue rough and fleeting against him, delivering lick after kittenish lick, too firm to be timid and maddeningly teasing all the same.

Then teeth,oh God, teeth, and pain was sweet, maybe sweeter than the pleasure, and Rupert wasn’t sure he could stop himself from trying to grind down on Winston, keep that infernal pressure, friction against his aching flesh until he—

Fingers slid inside him, and he shuddered. Then he rocked more frantically, desperate for the fireworks, the release.

It might have been minutes. It might have been hours; he had no idea, only knew that he ached and Winston must have been aching too and it was wonderful, glorious, and—

He just wanted to come, dammit. He sobbed, then finally grabbed at the alpha’s cropped hair. “I need,” he panted, then promptly lost his train of thought as those teeth pinched at him again. “I … need—”

Winston pulled back, and he protested loudly, because that wasnotwhat he needed. He forced his eyes open.

Winston smiled at him, and Rupert relaxed against the table again, hazy. This couldn’t be real. He must have been dreaming. “I …”

The word trembled on the air.

He looked back at the alpha. “I know,” Winston said. “You want to come, don’t you?”

“Yes.” The word was desperate and ugly. How did the alpha know? Had he known the entire time? Had he been able to make it happen and he’d just been teasing, teasing, teasing—holding back …

Rupert groaned at the thought. “Please.”

“All right, love.”

Rupert wasn’t sure if he moaned at the pet name or the return of that mouth, now lashing at him with something akin to fervor, and he cried out, sharply, writhing because he wanted away but also needed more.

Lips wrapped around his cock, and, as those fingers pushed deep inside him, there was that fantastic vibration, rattling through him, and Rupert had no choice but to fall apart with it, shouting as he peaked.