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Charlie
We packedup the mostly-empty food containers and I carried them, and our coats, out of the warm, damp greenhouse. The heat seemed to linger in my hair, on my skin, for longer than it should have, but I could see that Ella was nearly shivering in her short skirt and bare legs. I rearranged the items in my hands so my coat, cashmere and wool lined with high-tech insulating fabric, was on top. “Here,” I said, angling it toward her. “Wear mine, it’s longer.”
She accepted it, shrugging it on, and I was embarrassed at the way my body reacted: my cock plumped against the zipper of my jeans, seeing her in my clothing, wrapped in my scent. She would smell like me when she took it off, I knew, and the thought of her getting undressed to go to bed tonight, my scent still clinging to her skin, had my hands clenching into fists around the handles of the plastic bags I carried.
I hadn’t been lying when I had said I had been too busy for dates. It was slightly embarrassing, but it was the truth. Well, mostly. Therealtruth was I hadn’t been onanydates, not since high school prom. If that even counted. Probably not. It had never seemed worth the hassle, not with the promise of true mates held tantalizing in front of me in the form of my brothers’ relationships with their mates. I could have dated, sure, could have slept around–I was moderately attractive and exorbitantly rich–but how could I, knowing that The One was out there somewhere?
And now I had found her. We were walking back towards her apartment, the cold night air penetrating my thin cotton shirt–I wouldn’t dare ask for my coat back, though, not when she looked so fucking good in it. I had tossed the picked-over remains of our kebabs and rice at the first convenient trash can, and she was leaning in close to me as we walked, our hands nearly brushing. Apart from that one kiss, we hadn’t touched–I had been attempting to maintain a respectful distance, despite my instincts screaming at me to pull her onto my lap and rub my face into her neck. I wasn’t sure Ella would appreciate that on a first date.
I would have to tell her, eventually. About us being true mates. About my family. About their–my–expectations for our relationship. But, as her hand slipped into mine and pulled it into my silk-lined coat pocket, and a heat disproportionate to one single pocket’s warmth exploded from the place where our hands touched to ricochet through my every blood vessel, I knew I didn’t want to have that conversation now.
For now, I just wanted her, in my coat, and our hands clasped inside the pocket.
Ella
Despite the deepening cold,the walk back to my apartment from the greenhouse seemed much shorter than the walk there. Maybe it was the way Charlie’s scent was making me feel slightly woozy, moreso even than my two glasses of champagne. It was a spicy, boozy juniper that made my heart flutter–and my core burn.
We passed the bar around the corner from my building too soon, and something made me open my mouth and tell him about my pathetic Saturday evening. He turned to me, serious.
“You should have called me.”
“Oh,” I muttered. “I didn’t want… I don’t know. I thought you were probably doing something.” I didn’t want him to think I was too needy. Too eager. Tooomega.
“Ella,” he said, scanning my face. His hand, still joined with mine in his pocket, squeezed slightly. “I like you.” I looked down, only to find his hand under my chin, tilting my face up to look at him again. “Ilikeyou, and I want to see you. You aren’t going to… to scare me away, or something. I want to get to know you, and I want you to be comfortable with me. I want…” He trailed off, but I could see what he wanted in his eyes.
It was what I wanted, too.
“Charlie…” I said, my voice sounding breathy even to my own ears. His blue eyes flicked back and forth between my own. “Will you stay with me tonight?”
* * *
My back hit the thin wall of my tiny studio apartment before the door had even fully closed. Charlie’s body pressed against me from our lips, locked in a hot, messy kiss, to our knees, his leg slotted between my own. Somewhere in the back of my mind, my rational self was warning me that this was a bad idea, that I shouldn’t put out on the first date, but my instincts–as an omega or a woman, I didn’t know and didn’t care–knew that this feltright. I flexed my hips into his muscular thigh and gasped–I was so close already.
“Ella,” I heard him pant against my mouth. “Fuck, so good, Ella.” His lips left my mouth and he kissed down my jaw, down my neck. I was still wearing his coat, unbuttoned and loose around my shoulders, and the smell of him, of us, together, was making my head spin. I ground against his thigh again, and felt his length, hard and thick against my stomach. Fuck, I wanted him. Wanted him inside me, wanted to feel him sliding into my slick passage, sliding–home.
The word sounded within me like a gong, just as Charlie’s lips landed on the most sensitive part of my neck, where it met my shoulder. I shuddered, and cried out, my back arching into him as he pinned me to the wall. The neighbors would hear, I thought distantly as I came, but then Charlie was kissing my neck again, his teeth grazing my skin, his hips undulating. I caught my breath, and reached for his belt. I had undone the buckle and his jeans button, and was working on the zipper, when he stilled my hands.
“You don’t have to,” he whispered. “I don’t, like,expectyou to do anyth–”
I shut him up with a kiss, putting his tongue to better use as I slid down the zipper, then tugged his pants and boxer briefs down below his firm ass. His cock seemed to spring into my hands, feeling larger than it had through the denim. I stroked it, trying to seem confident, like I knew exactly what I was doing. I wasn’t a virgin, but it had been… a while. It didn’t seem to matter though: his cock fit perfectly in my hands, and as I smeared the beads of precome down his length, it seemed like my every touch made him moan and twitch.
“So sensitive,” I wondered.
“Fuck, Ella,” he groaned as I used one hand to feel for the loose ring of skin at the base of his cock. I’d never been with an alpha before; I had heard of their knots, but never felt one myself. Even if I had been with a dozen, I may never have had experienced one–it was rare, now that we didn’t go into heats and ruts anymore. I squeezed gently, feeling the softness there give under my grip as I used the other hand to stroke the rest of him. “I can’t–I’m–”
I nudged him away from me just slightly and saw his eyes widen for a split second as I dropped to my knees, opening my mouth around his cock. It felt big and heavy on my tongue as I took him deeper, swirling my tongue around the tip before flattening it against the underside of his shaft. I wasn’t sure how I had expected him to taste, but it wasn’t like this: hot and musky and sweet, honey and juniper, salty and–
His hand was brushing my hair back from my face, cupping my hollowed cheek then holding the back of my neck steady, and I peeked up the length of his still-buttoned shirt to see his eyes fixed on mine, pupils huge and dark with arousal, jaw slack. As our eyes met, he let out a low growl, a warning, but it only made me take him deeper, until I could feel his thick girth bumping into the back of my mouth. He gasped my name–“Ella”--and came, his hot come flooding my mouth, the smell of it, of him, drowning me in juniper. I drank him down, letting him dribble from my mouth when it got to be too much, still licking and kissing around his head, along his shaft, against the firm, flat planes of his torso, still hidden under his shirt. I wanted to see him, wanted to see him seeing me. I could hear his ragged gasps slowing, becoming more even, felt his hand stroking over my hair as I knelt between him and the wall. After a moment, he pulled me up into his arms. His heart was beating fast through his clothing, but something about him made me feel… calm. Safe.
This is, until I felt his hand slip from my back, to waist, then to the curve of my ass in my short skirt. I squirmed, remembering how I had come grinding on his thigh like a lusty teenager at a school dance. Then again, it hadn’t taken him much more or much longer, and the way he was moving against me now…
“Want to take this to the bedroom?” I murmured, nodding at the double bed, visible from where we were. It was a small apartment. He grinned, lifting me bodily before taking the few steps across the room and tossing me onto my bed. I hadn’t expected our night to end here, in my apartment, but as Charlie shucked off his shirt and undershirt–fuckingfinally–to reveal a smooth, firm chest, my brain short-circuited. He was more muscular than one would expect from a tech guy, but maybe that was due to his being an alpha.
My alpha.
The thought passed through my head unbidden, but it had me shimmying out of my own skirt, whipping my top up over my head. I wasn’t shy about my body; I had nothing to be ashamed of, but the way Charlie’s eyes raked over me, inch by inch, made me squirm. Thankfuckfor scent blockers–otherwise I’m sure I would have already drowned Charlie in the cloying, choking smell of omega slick. It wasn’t like he couldn’t tell I wanted him–I didn’t need to blast him with my scent, too. He pulled off the rest of his clothing, then crawled over me on the bed, backing me up against the headboard. One hand was braced against the wall beside my head, the other teased along the edge of my lacy underwear.
“I don’t want to–” I said, just as he said,
