Page 22 of Flight of the Omega

Jack leaned over; JP’s legs came up a touch when he did it, and the omega’s eyes fluttered shut briefly, his mouth falling open on a silent cry.

“How you doing down here?” His voice was rough, and JP shuddered underneath him.

“Good.” The omega’s voice was airy, and for a second, Jack thought they might have a problem, that JP was lying to him.

But the omega opened his eyes again and, no, there was nothing there—no pain, no hurt, no fear. He was being honest, maybe more honest than he’d ever been before. “How are you?”

Jack bit his lip and shook his head. JP stroked his fingers up Jack’s arm, almost hesitantly.

“You’ve no idea what you’re doing to me,” he told the omega. “Can I move?”

“Yeah.” Again, no hesitation—JP hadn’t been kidding when he said he was ready for this. Jack had expected the process to be a lot rougher, full of stops and starts and maybe abandoned altogether to try again tomorrow or the next day.

“Okay,” he said, glancing at JP’s face again, making sure he wasn’t misreading the omega. “Hang on.”

JP’s blunt nails were nothing like the talons on one of the birds, but they hooked almost cruelly beneath Jack’s skin, and Jack shuddered with the pain that licked up his spine at the sensation. He thrust his hips, pressing as deep as he could into JP. “That’s the ticket, birdie.”

“You liked that?” JP sounded nervous, but he’d curled his legs higher, changing the angle to be deeper, pressing them together so that he was getting friction on the raised rim of his hole, the nub in his cloaca that was likely where he’d got the designation of being “a boy” omega, linguistic freedom notwithstanding.

“Little bit of pain never hurt nobody,” Jack said.

JP gave him an uncertain look—maybe the wrong thing to say to someone who had been hurt and hadn’t enjoyed it.

It was forgotten a moment later as JP’s head went back again, a ragged moan dragging out of his throat. Jack supposed he must have hit a good spot and tried to angle himself to do it again. JP whimpered underneath him. He was about to slow down when the omega panted, “Keep going.”

Jack obeyed, listened to JP groan again. “Yes” was the next coherent thing the omega said, which was followed by a snap of his hips up to meet Jack. “Oh, fuck, yes.”

Jack bit back his own moan; he was no stranger to cussing, but it was strange to hear it out of JP’s mouth.

JP’s hand tangled in his hair. He tried to focus on the omega—the slight sheen of sweat over his body, almost glowing in the morning light; the flush over his pale skin; the cherry red of his bitten lips, now open as he gasped for breath.

Jack gave him no reprieve, leaning down, nipping at the omega’s earlobe, whispering, “You feel so good, birdie, so fucking good around my cock—tight and wet. You’ve got such a nice cunt, so warm and—”

It was actually a good thing JP cried out sharply right then and there, because Jack didn’t know what he was going to say next. He wasn’t a poet of any sort, so he didn’t really know how to talk dirty.

JP’s eyes snapped open, and he clutched at Jack as he shook something awful, hips moving erratically. “What,” he managed to wheeze, and Jack’s brows jumped with surprise.

JP tilted his head back and moaned again, and the thought of JP not even knowing he was climaxing was enough to do Jack in; he slammed home, then burst inside JP. He was pretty sure he saw stars.

Gradually, he came back to himself enough to slide out of JP, noting the omega was still shuddering and panting. Jack rolled to his side. “You good?”

JP wrenched his eyes open; it looked like it took a lot of effort. There was confusion, and then there was fear. Jack’s heart sank like a stone. This had been too much, too soon.

He put a hand on JP’s shoulder. “Hey,” he said, “hey. Birdie. Cerulean. It’s me.”

JP made a horrible choking noise, then tried to push Jack away. “Hey—sh, no,” Jack said. “You’re okay. I’m right here.”

JP closed his eyes tight again, then nodded. Jack wasn’t sure he understood. He grabbed JP’s hand and twined their fingers. He kissed the back of the omega’s hand. “Birdie, you’re okay. You’re safe. Nobody can get you here. I won’t let them.”

JP bowed his head. “I wanna wash up,” he whimpered.

“Yeah, okay,” Jack agreed. “Makes sense. You want some help, or you wanna do it yourself?”

JP looked undecided, so Jack helped him to the bathroom. He’d never really thought about ensuites before, but he’d been very grateful for this one over the past two weeks. He didn’t know how he was gonna explain all this to Burr and the other ranch hands. He wasn’t sure he wouldn’t get fired on the spot when it all came out.

Turned out JP couldn’t stand; he was too weak in the knees, so Jack held him up and helped him wash down. He kept his head down for most of it, wouldn’t meet Jack’s gaze. Like it was shameful or something.

The thought made Jack sad. He didn’t think JP needed his sadness though, so he helped the omega dry off, then get dressed. They went back to bed shortly after that. Breakfast could wait.