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“This is the heat?” I ask her, running my hand up her thigh to where her slick shines wet on her skin, having leaked out the bottom of her denim shorts.
She nods, sinking back against the grass again with a dramatic sigh, her neck extended and arms spread wide.
“Babe.” I take a proper look at her, at the sand all over her legs, at the way her nipples are visible through her white shirt, at the sweat beading on her skin, a rivulet running down between her breasts, and bite my lip because fuck. “You’re a mess.”
“You say that like it’s a good thing.”
“That’s ‘cause it is.”
I slide my hand under the leg of her shorts, my fingers brushing her slick-soaked underwear. She spreads her legs wider with a soft moan, jolting when I brush over her clit.
“Matiu,” Scott says, snapping me out of the haze I was quickly descending into. “As fun as outdoor sex is, she deserves to be in her nest. Eh?” He crouches down by her head. “Shall we get you to your nest, pretty omega?”
“That would be nice.”
“You’re not actually injured, are you?”
She shakes her head back and forth. “Cramps. And so empty.”
“Oh, sweet. We’ll sort you out.” He brushes the hair back from her forehead, plants a kiss there, and suggests that she should ride on my back.
“I’m not too heavy?” she asks after I lurch to my feet, her legs wrapped around my waist and her breath fanning across my neck.
“Not at all. This is easy.” It is. The hardest part is quite literal in that it’s uncomfortable to walk with a raging hard dick, the cloud of omega heat pheromones ensuring that there is no way this erection is going anywhere except inside of her.
Barry leads the way back, with Scott declaring “You’re getting all the treats tonight, mate. Such a good dog.”
“It really caught me off guard,” Lizzie explains as we reach the bach. She seems perkier as I set her down on the couch and kneel before her. Scott and I have planned for this, and I’m unsurprised when the first thing he does is pack up a bag of things for Barry—food, treats, toys, and places it near the door before retrieving Barry’s dog bed.
“I’m gonna take him over to Bob’s now, he’ll stay there for a few nights until everything’s over.”
“Oh, Barry. He saved me,” Lizzie explains. “He herded me up from the beach, he realised it was starting before I even did.”
When Scott and Barry have left, Lizzie lets out a whine, and I turn to her, expecting a slightly delirious omega. Instead, she looks incredibly worried.
“You’re going to miss Christmas with your daughter if you stay for the heat.”
I know I am. It’s something I’ve already thought about a lot over the past few weeks. “Don’t worry about it. It was always going to be a possibility. Amokura will understand.”
“She doesn’t even know about me yet.”
“Well she’s gonna find out.” I shrug. “It would be different if she was a little kid, but she’s eighteen, she understands how these things work. It’ll be fine. You have more pressing things to worry about, like deciding whether you need me to fuck you right now, or if you’d like to have a bath first.”
She leans back, head tipped towards the ceiling, and I can barely resist the urge to lean in and kiss her neck. If I do, I have a feeling there will be no bath for either of us. “Oh, this is always so undignifying,” she laughs. “Everyone always wants to be an omega, but I don’t think they really consider the reality of being reduced to a sweaty, sticky, slippery, mess of a person with only one thing on their mind.”
“If you’re undignified then so am I. Don’t forget you made me go into rut the day I met you.”
She lifts her head, blue eyes sparkling in the evening summer sunlight. “Will you go into rut for me now?”
“I would say the likelihood is extremely high.”
“Hmmm.” She bites her lip, her eyes travelling down my body, settling on my crotch and the obvious erection trapped there. “I think I should bathe first, not because I want to, but because it’ll really piss me off if I get sand in my nest.”
I can’t help but laugh at that. “Valid. Stay there.” I get to my feet, and go find the supplies Scott and I stocked in the kitchen in preparation for the heat.
“I’m really not hungry,” she says as I bring her a muesli bar.
“Too bad. Eat,” I order, using just the slightest hint of a bark. On any other day she would be eating a decent portion of dinner at this time, and I know this is just early heat nerves messing with her appetite. This is the role of alphas during heats—it’s not all about sex, half the time we’re bossing a heat-addled omega to eat their food or drink their water before they go and get themselves dehydrated. “There’s Powerade here for you to drink, too,” I say, placing the bottle next to her. “Make sure you drink at least half like a good girl. You need the electrolytes, eh. I’ll go make your bath.”
