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I’d just tucked myself under the covers and found my favorite e-bookmarked spot in Grace McGinty’s latest sausagefest when someone knocked on the door. “Who is it?”
“Your employer. Open up.” The angry growl in his voice made my heart rate speed up. I set my phone down, but kept my other hand beneath the covers, circling my clit. I giggled as I remembered a list Rain and I had made to talk about masturbation.
“Sorry, Mr. Jack Off, thisJillis off the clock.” I circled a little faster as he rattled the door handle. “Jilling off,” I said louder, in case he hadn’t heard. “Leave me alone. I’m my own boss tonight, Mr. Grump.”
“Let me in,” he demanded.
“Not by the hair… on my chinny chin chin,” I replied, laughing. “Come back later. I’m doing finger exercises.”Huh.Maybe that’s howhisfingers got so muscley. I almost asked out loud, but I wasn’t that drunk.
He went quiet, and I bent my knees for a better angle. The ship was rolling smoothly now, and for some reason, the movement felt sensual. I slowed my pace, as the hallway went quiet. My uterus was contracting in a way that felt slightly painful.
Giovanni’s words from the night before echoed in my memory as I thrust two fingers inside myself.It might hurt the first time, Sunshine.With a cock that size, and a knot… I shuddered, my fingers making wet noises as my body began to prepare for that terrifyingly large cock, my slick perfuming the air.
Then he was back. “You have ten seconds to open this door, Sunshine, or you will face the consequences.”
“Can’t. I’m… touching up my lip gloss,” I replied breathlessly.
“Open the door.”
“Not now,” I said, rubbing harder, faster. “I’m… sick.”
“Sick?”
“Yes, hot… fever… sick.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. The way I’d felt ever since I saw Giovanni was a sort of sickness. Like a drug moving in my veins, changing me. And I was hot, the mini-heat driving my temperature up.
It usually took me a lot longer than this to climax, but something about his presence, even through a door, brought me close. God, I could smell him, almost taste him in the back of my throat, like a hot chocolate sliding down, and it was bringing me to the peak, almost...
And then the door opened.
“What the fuck?” I sat up straight, the covers falling to my waist. “How did you get in?”
Giovanni stood in the open doorway, panting. In his hand was a card that must have been the master key. He stepped inside, growling low, and shut the door behind him. “You’re not sick at all, little lying Sunshine,” he growled. He yanked the covers off the bed, leaving me totally exposed. “You were fucking yourself with those dripping fingers, weren’t you? Teasing me through the door. Worrying me.” His eyes practically glowed with dark fire.
My own veins hummed with liquid courage. “Yes. Like I said,” I sassed, letting my fingers drop back to my mound. It was slick with my arousal, and he licked his lips as his eyes tracked my hand.
It almost felt like I could come from only his eyes on me. I took a shaky breath and closed my thighs, starting to sit up, but the movement triggered a searing cramp in my abdomen.
“Ah!” I cried out, doubling over.
“What is it?” Suddenly, he was on the bed, pulling me onto his lap. For a second, I thought he might carry me naked across the ship again to the doctor, but then he buried his nose in my hair and exhaled. “Oh, Sunshine. That glorious fucking scent. You tempt me. Do you need me to take you back to shore? To your fiancé?”
“No,” I gasped. “Please don’t.”
The air was charged. “Does he hurt you? Are you afraid of him? I swear I will—”
“Tarquin? No, he’s a sweetheart. I’ve known him since kindergarten. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“Then why, Sunshine? Why are you here?”
Chapter9
Sunshine
Something in Giovanni’s tone pulled me out of the impending heat haze. I wrapped the ends of the sheet around my chest and did some of the shallow, counted breathing exercises I knew that helped with heat cramping. He waited, and when I had myself under control—well, except for the insistent throbbing from my overexcited clit—I answered. “It’s a long story.”
“I need to know. Start from the beginning.”
“My friends and I, we’re all omegas. Most of us found out when we were seventeen or eighteen. That’s when we were pulled out of our schools and lost the lives we had planned.” I held up a hand when he took a breath to speak. “I know what the public perception of omegas is. We’re emotional and hormonal. Not the kind you’d want in a leadership position, right? Not the kind you’d trust your children with. Or your husband around. We’re oversexed and lacking morals.”
