Page 54 of Slick Trip

“Huh.”

He kept reading. “Mood fluctuations. Irritability, emotional sensitivity, uncharacteristic attachment—”

“Shut up.”

“—behavior,” he finished anyway, a smirk playing on his lips. “Yes to all the above.”

I whacked him with the monkey.

“What? I’m starting to think you presented as an Omega the moment you were born.”

“Inaccurate.”

“Instinct to create a secure environment. Heightened awareness of the body.”

I made the weirdest little sound as he looked up from his phone.“You aware of your body right now, Coop?”

My skin was practically buzzing with how much I needed him to touch me. “Yes,” I whimpered. “You could say that.”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I’m pretty fucking aware of it too.”

My cock twitched, but Jon was still scrolling.

“And finally, we have a strong need for physical reassurance from a compatible partner, preferably an Alpha.”

Jon set the phone down, its screen illuminating the cocky expression on his face. “That’s me, by the way.”

The air was so thick with the scent of us and my slick that I couldn’t think properly. Jon’s hand slid to my hip, his palm searingly hot. The need for him pooled low in my belly, making me throb and leak.

“I take my job as an Alpha very seriously,” he hummed. “So if my Omega needs physical reassurance, I’m more than happy to give it.”

I wanted to say something flirty back, but I failed. What I managed instead was a rushed, stuttering, “Green.”

Jon paused. “Green to what, exactly?”

“Shut up.”

“Green to this?” He wrapped his fingers around my length, and I gasped.

“Yes,” I moaned, my eyes rolling back. Jon pulled me flush against his chest. Using the slick now running down my thighs, he wrapped his fist around both of us. I kissed him, pouring everything I had into it, my tongue stroking his in the same rhythm his hand was stroking us. When we pulled back for air, he brought a finger to his mouth and sucked, groaning.

“Your slick tastes so fucking good,” he muttered before returning to the task at hand. I was grinding my cock into his palm, whining impatiently. “I can’t wait to taste your cum, to find out if it’s as good as I’ve imagined.”

“You’ve imagined how I taste?”

“I’ve imagined it all.”

“Tell me,” I pleaded, panting. The sweet pressure behind my balls kept building with each word Jon said.

“I’ve thought about how I’d fuck you into a mattress. How beautiful you’d look riding my cock. I’ve thought about you on your knees, moaning when I feed you my cock.”

“I want that,” I whimpered, almost delirious with need. He started stroking us faster, until I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Gonna come,” I moaned, my voice breaking.

“Good,” he rasped, his grip tightening. “I’ve got you.”

The pressure peaked, my balls drew tight, and then we were both spilling over his fist and my stomach. Jon scooped up some of our release, letting me lick the taste of us from his palm. I lapped his whole hand clean, dizzy with satisfaction. A few minutes later, once we were no longer a breathless tangle of limbs, and Jon had wiped us clean, I made my confession into the crook of his shoulder.