Page 74 of Glitterati Omega

“Winnie …”

“Even I have a hard time, sometimes. I want to see you, love. I really, really do—because … there is so much more to you than the money.”

Rupert let his eyes flutter shut. If Winston was a liar, he was a very convincing one, one who knew all of Rupert’s deepest secrets and hidden fears. Every word he spoke was like balm for a boy who’d always been told he was nothing—not terribly smart (dim, in fact); without ambition or aspiration; a dullard, a brainless omega, a blond with more beauty than brains (and even the beauty part was questionable); a breeder of the lowest order. The only thing that had ever made him special was the money; it was all he was good for.

But Winston thought he was more than the money, and he wished he was.

He opened his eyes slowly. “I think you’re very wrong,” he whispered. “There’s not much more here than the money—but … when you talk like that, well. I’d like to try, at least, to be something. Something like what you imagine me as.”

Winston cradled his face. “You don’t need to try,” he returned, then closed the gap between them, mouths meeting hungrily, desperately, tongues tangling around stranger syllables, noises no human language could possibly represent.

Winston kissed him harder, then pulled back, growling, “God, I missed you.”

Rupert whimpered. It had only been a few days, but he’d missed the alpha something awful as well. He spread his legs wider. “Missed you too,” he said, his voice a rasp of itself.

He took Winston’s hand and guided him down, between his parted thighs. “Make me yours again, alpha.”

“Are you kidding? My mothers will be home from dinner any minute—”

“Stop stalling then!” Rupert cried. “Make it quick.”

“Rupert, you’re supposed to—”

“Winston,please. I’ve been so lonely without you—I’m aching for you.”

The lawyer glanced hastily over his shoulder, but his hands were already fiddling with his belt. Rupert slid his own hand into his knickers, fingers pressing against his half-hard cock. “I’ve been thinking about you so much, you’re constantly on my mind. I feel like I’m in heat; I can hardly stand it, feeling like I’m about to burst any minute, and I want you between my thighs, want you deep in me—”

Winston moaned above him, a deep, guttural sound that sent shivers down Rupert’s spine.

“You’re filthy,” the alpha growled in his ear, and Rupert’s breath hitched as two fingers breached him.

Winston fingered him quickly, sloppy, and then pulled back and replaced his fingers with the head of his cock. Rupert groaned in anticipation as the alpha sank into him. He curled his knees back, and Winston slumped forward, so that their torsos were sliding along each other as he pumped into Rupert. “Good?” the alpha asked, his gaze flicking up.

Rupert bit his bottom lip and nodded.

“Are you getting enough friction like this?”

“Maybe …” Rupert hiked his legs up a bit more. Winston took the hint and pushed on the backs of his thighs. The alpha took a couple of experimental thrusts.

“Better?”

“Yes,” Rupert moaned in reply, his eyes sliding shut at the ripples of sensation each thrust pushed through him. “Oh, God, yes.”

Winston pushed deeper into him, then faster, and Rupert moaned again, louder this time, every thrust forcing desire through him, and all he could do was gasp with it, rocking his own hips frantically to get more friction on his cock.

His voice twisted higher as pleasure took up more and more space in his body, leaving little room for anything but sensation, pressing on all parts of him. “Yes, Winston, yes, I’m going to—I’m—oh!”

He grabbed the alpha’s shoulders, dug his fingers into the fabric of his shirt. He bit his lip and shuddered through wave after wave of shivering pleasure.

“Fuck! Rupert!” Winston held him tight and pushed in deep, spilling, and then thrusting through it, furiously, and Rupert twisted around the sensation, writhing helplessly as already raw nerve-endings were pushed beyond their limits, opening up into even more pleasurable reverberations, rocking him right down to his core.

“Oh,” he gasped, then slammed his head back against the arm of the couch. “Fuck.”

Winston pitched forward onto him, hands sliding down his sides, possessive and adoring all at once. Both of them were heaving for breath, and Rupert was just about to suggest they might move to the bedroom, or at least the shower, when someone cleared their throat.

Both of them looked up to find Ndileka and Thandiwe standing in the entryway. Ndileka had her hands on her hips and a frown on her face; Thandiwe had covered her mouth, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Mama! Mother!” Winston cried.