To ruin an Omega

Chapter 173: Need 3 (M)

HAZEL

I grabbed his face between my hands and kissed him again. This time slower. Deliberate. I wanted to taste every part of his mouth, wanted to memorize the way he groaned when I bit his bottom lip. His hands came up to my waist but I pushed them away.

“No touching,” I said against his mouth. “Not unless I say so.”

He nodded, his breath coming fast. Good. I liked him like this.

Compliant.

Desperate.

Mine.

I kissed him again, walking him backward toward the bed. My tongue explored his mouth while my hands roamed his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath the torn fabric of his shirt. His knees hit the edge of the mattress and I shoved him. Hard.

He fell back onto the bed with a grunt, his chest still heaving, his ruined shirt hanging open. The buttons I’d torn off earlier were scattered across the floor like confetti. Evidence of my claim on him.

I stood there for a moment, just looking at him. His hair was mussed, his lips swollen from my kisses, his eyes dark with want. He was gorgeous like this. Undone. And I’d barely started.

I climbed onto the bed, crawling up his body like a predator stalking prey. My hands traced the contours of his torso, nails dragging lightly over his skin. He shivered beneath me, his muscles jumping at my touch.

When I straddled his hips, I felt him hard beneath me. Still ready despite everything we’d already done. The knowledge sent a thrill through me. This man wanted me. Needed me. And tonight, I was going to use that.

I leaned down and kissed his neck. His pulse jumped beneath my lips, rapid and strong. I bit down gently at first, then harder, feeling him tense beneath me. A small sound escaped his throat. Not quite a moan, not quite a whimper. Perfect.

I wanted to mark him. Wanted everyone who saw him tomorrow to know that someone had claimed him. That this pathetic loser was mine. I sucked at the spot until I was sure it would bruise, then I moved lower.

My mouth traced a path across his collarbone. I kissed and bit my way down his chest, pausing to circle one nipple with my tongue. He gasped, his back arching slightly off the bed. His hands came up instinctively, reaching for me, but I caught his wrists before he could touch me.

“What did I say?” My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t soften it.

“Sorry.” His voice was rough. Strained. “I forgot.”

I pinned his wrists above his head, holding them there with one hand while the other continued its exploration of his body. “Don’t forget again.”

“I won’t.”

“Good.”

I held his gaze for a long moment, making sure he understood. Then I released his wrists and continued my journey down his body. I traced the lines of his abs with my fingertips, feeling them contract beneath my touch. Watched goosebumps rise in the wake of my hands.

When I reached the waistband of his pants, still hanging open from earlier, I hooked my fingers into the fabric and looked up at him. His eyes were locked on me, dark and hungry. But his hands stayed where I’d put them, gripping the pillow beneath his head.

“Good boy,” I murmured.

The words made him groan. I smiled and pulled his pants and briefs down in one smooth motion, freeing him completely. He sprang free, hard and flushed. Ready for me.

I wrapped my hand around him and he hissed through his teeth. His hips lifted slightly off the bed but I pressed my other hand against his stomach, holding him down.

“Stay still,” I commanded.

He nodded, his jaw clenching with the effort of restraint. I stroked him slowly, watching his face. Watching the way his eyes squeezed shut, the way his mouth fell open, the way his throat worked when he swallowed.

“Look at me,” I said.

His eyes opened. Met mine. The vulnerability there should have softened something in me, but it didn’t. It only made me want him more. Want to push him further. See how much he could take.

I leaned down and took him in my mouth.

The sound he made was desperate. Broken. Beautiful. His hips jerked up involuntarily but I pulled back immediately, letting him slip free.

“I said stay still.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” His voice was ragged. “Please, Hazel. Please.”

The begging sent heat straight through me. I took him again, deeper this time. I hollowed my cheeks and sucked, using my tongue in ways that made his whole body tremble. His breathing grew ragged. His thighs tensed beneath my hands where I held them.

I could feel every reaction. Every twitch. Every shudder. I paid attention to what made him gasp, what made him curse under his breath, what made his hands fist so hard in the sheets I thought the fabric might tear.

I took him deeper, relaxing my throat, letting him slide further in. He made a choked sound and I felt him throb against my tongue. I pulled back slightly, sucking hard, then took him deep again. Set a rhythm that had him panting.

“Hazel,” he gasped. “Hazel, I’m—I’m going to—”

I pulled back completely.

He made a frustrated, almost pained sound. His hips lifted, seeking, but I just sat back on my heels and watched him. Watched him struggle for control. Watched his chest heave and his hands clench and unclench in the sheets.

“Not yet,” I said. “I’m not done with you.”

“Please.” The word came out strangled. “Please, Hazel.”

I ignored his pleading and reached behind me. My fingers found the zipper of my slip, the one I’d had on after he’d helped me out of the dress. I pulled it down slowly, deliberately, letting the fabric slide off my shoulders. I stood on the bed and let it fall, pooling at my feet before I kicked it away.

I was left in just my underwear. A lacy black set that I’d chosen that morning without knowing I’d end up here. His eyes roamed over me, hungry and reverent all at once.