Page 21 of The Coyote's Veterinarian Omega

Wyatt

Ihad no idea what came over me. cameron suggested stopping, and i just ...

I couldn’tstandthe idea. He’d said he wanted me. He’d confessed to running five miles from Rocky Ridge because he wanted to get his dick wet so badly.

And now he was going tostop?

Like hell. He wasn’t the only horny one here. It had been ages since I’d gotten laid, and if Cam was interested, I wasn’t going to pass up the best opportunity I’d had in what felt like eons.

He laughed and lifted my shaking hands out of the way, unbuttoning his borrowed jeans. I inhaled sharply and lowered the zipper, then started yanking the denim down over his hips. He lifted his hips to help—no mean feat with me still straddling his legs.

I barely bit back a moan at the thought of riding him, feeling his thighs flexing under me …

God, I was hard up. I hardly felt like myself. I’d never been this desperate in my life, not even when I’d been fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, crashing headlong into puberty.

I felt like I was on fire. Despite what I’d said earlier about making him catch, I needed him in me. I was aching for it, my breath coming short with anticipation as I looked at his cock again.

I took my time, drinking in the sight of it—not the quick, bashful glance I’d taken when he first showed up on the porch. Even that had told me his cock was droolworthy—not too long, not too thick, but something that lookedjust rightin every way, as though he’d been molded specifically for me.

I couldn’t wait to have him split me open. I could practically feel my hole fluttering with anticipation, my own cock jumping with excitement at the thought of getting him buried deep in me.

I fumbled with the buttons on my own jeans. “Here,” Cam said gently, his hands nudging mine out of the way. I cursed, hating that I was so gone with need. I wasn’t being smooth or sexy at all, just desperate, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to think about being laughed at and called a desperate slut for being a bundle of nerves.

That had happened ages ago, a first-year hookup at a dorm party. I barely remembered the night. Didn’t even remember the guy’s face.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, listening to the soft sound of denim rustling, the zipper lowering. I opened my eyes again when Cam’s hands landed on my ass. “Lift up.”

I obeyed, and Cam continued shimmying the too-tight pants down my thighs.

It took another couple of awkward, fumbling moments before we were both mostly naked.

I swallowed, my brain trying desperately to catch up with my body. “Lube,” I announced. “I need—”

I froze when Cam traced a calloused finger down my crack, sliding between my cheeks, pressing it up against my hole.

My … slick, aching hole.

My stomach flip-flopped as he pushed one finger, then a second in smoothly.

“I don’t understand,” I managed. It had beenages, I should have needed prep—

“Wyatt,” Cam said lowly, “you’re inheat.”

He’d said that before. He could think I was an omega or whatever all he liked, but …

That didn’t mean it made sense. Or that it meant anything to me. Or that I knew what it meant.

I sure hadn’t thought it might mean I suddenly had a magical self-lubricating hole, but here we were.

I looked down into his amber eyes—the same keen gaze as I’d seen on the coyote the night Bobby Lam had shot him, now filled with honeyed warmth and something dangerously tender.

He didn’t break eye contact as he thrust his fingers deep into me. I wanted to be embarrassed by the squelching that accompanied him drawing back, but the noise went right to my cock, making it jump.

Fuck, I was horny. I bit my lip to hold back a groan.

“You ready?” His voice was a rasp of itself, and I shuddered.

“Yeah,” I replied, my own voice hoarse with the weight of desire.