บท 65: End of Chapter 21
"Baby," he'd whispered with eyes dripping with pearls, tongue lolled in anticipation. "I'll be the Omega you want me to be. Anything you want. Just wish for it and I will transform into the form you desire." He paused, a moment stretching then delight danced over his cheeks, apple blossoms and cotton candy. "You prefer my original body? Oh, Rue…"
His gorgeous face was ruined by lust. A musk was flooding the air, a bitter sweetness, luxurious like honeyed wine and sweet like spiced honey. It was muted but delicious, a scent that she sucked in greedily with an open mouth and hunger growing in her chest, oddly not her belly.
In the dream he had her fake cock stretching his inner cheek, showing in his throat, bulging against his tonsils. He sank down upon the shaft, saliva gurgling, taking her deeper into the cavern of his throat. Heat rushed through her, hard and strong, twisting up her limbs as he lavished the length, teasing frilly frenulum and darting over a tip that jolted and felt like her clit.
Dream Valentino hollowed his lips, delighted as he suckled, humming low with his nose pressed to her belly, hands running up thighs, begging for more and latching tight. Her body was thrusting into his face, spit dripping down her length, and she wondered when he'd dislodge, when he'd convulse, gag and cough.
"God," she'd groaned, body shivering. It almost seemed like he was sucking on her clit, and the pleasure pulsed up her spine, nasty and growing. But Valentino remained latched on tight, shiny with sweat, throat swallowing always. He seemed to love it, seemed to enjoy burrowing himself deep and staying with his eyes rolling back and his toes curling. Her fake balls swinging against his lower chin.
"Is this how your cock looks like?" He murmured in pleasure with a raspy inhale, tongue dipping into salty slit, wetness smeared over cheeks, ivory white. "Is this how you've always wanted me?"
"No," she'd answered and there was a frown on his face then as she yanked him off her. The cock was limp now, no cum, no sloppy mess, no sticky orgasm waiting. It was cold, just as it was supposed to be. The eros blinked, eyes wide, confused. "This dick's all silicone Val. You're sucking a prosthetic." His brows furrowed, tongue to the corner of his cheek.
"It's fake?" His lips parted into an 'o', surprise glittering in his eyes. "But you said it was detachable."
"It has always been fake." She answered sleepily, thumb on his lower lip, tilting his chin up meeting beautiful eyes. "You've always been an idiot." Her smirk grew. "My idiot."
And then she was changing, changing to the dusty feather of pubic hair over creamy milky skin, the ruby red of her swollen throbbing clit, the chubby part of flower peach folds that hid a dark red slit, the sticky drip of her slick. Her sticky and hot insides, the endless warmth, the dripping honey.
Dream Valentino's eyes were darting down, dipping and staring, almost looking deep into the cusp of her very being. His gaze was almost reaching the greatest secret of her lip. His lips parted, pupils shaking, tongue out, breath escaping. And it was warm, fanned down her cunt in a sweet, silky glide—
She'd awoken with a startling gasp, sweat puddling down her skin, heat rolling off her body. The ring on her finger—an odd little thing that had settled so nicely upon her skin it felt like nothing — felt far too hot on her skin. She tossed it to the corner, the metal tumbling into the sheets.
Fuck! How awful, how fucking torturous it was to dream of Valentino discovering her this way—
And Halcyon seemed to wake with a start then, his voice was a muffled, sexy groan echoing across the quiet room. Rue froze, waiting listening for him, praying that her slick hadn't stained the air. But the raspy moan was not from waking. It was muffled into skin, had him shaking the bed, shuddering in a tempo that Rue knew like the back of her hand. She recognised it.
He was masturbating.
Her breath hitched, disgust clouding her mind, clothes wrapped only tighter around herself. But it was odd that her mind conjured images to each ragged exhale, the sweep of it, the flail. Her mind imagined Halcyon, pictured him with his fingers around his cock, fisting, pumping, thumbing a steaming shaft. His balls heavy and swinging. And suddenly she wanted to look, wanted to see—
"Rue," he whispered, but that was a moan, a cry. Not a call for her name and her eyes only widened further. Her body quivering like live wire on fire. "Rue, Rue, Rue." Her body burned; hands clasped to lips as Halcyon sighed into his palm. "Rue!" The buzz of a vibrator was loud in the air.
In the dark her eyes widened, breath catching in her throat as her head turned, eyes swivelled to a break in her fort of pillows, catching the glimpse of him in the moonlight. And she hated how she had perfect access, perfect view, a perfect fucking spot to catch him in the act.
She saw him then the outline of his legs. The twitching thighs, muffled groan from a shirt bitten between pressed lips to prevent semen from catching on cloth. The spiderweb silk pearls of his semen over his skin, glittering in the light. He was spread open and wanton, panting with a raw and ruddy cock shaking in the air, but there were no fingers on his cock, no hands glossing the veins, no ring of fingers jerking over the head.
All he had was the vibrator in his ass, slimy and obscene, fucking him fast and hard like an Omega.
"R-Rue," he whimpered into his hand, both palms now pressed to his lips as if almost unable to stop from screaming. "Why do you have to torture me this way?" He was weeping, almost weeping, body twisting. "R-Rue, I'm g-going to—Fuck!"
The final moments of his unravelling had him groping his pecs, back arched into a tight curve, shivering through each pump that seemed to last for far too long. His whine was almost a raspy scream, stifled into the cloth, the toy fucking him with a violence that had her transfixed. He was a mess, ejaculate spilling all over skin in ropes, thighs stretched, toes curled.
Then the final shudder of the bed, throbbing broken and in uncoordinated rhythm to the gentle squeaking of the bed. He collapsed and that too was a quake across the sheets, one that Rue felt deep in her soul. His shuddering breath seemed even louder then, the quiet pants of his breath, warm in the cold room.
He'd fucked himself on a toy, fucked himself to the thought of her. This had her clenching, panties slickening, body slumping into the sheets, cunt pulsating deep within her as her fingers ghosted over her body and danced over her swollen clit. A tap and Rue squeezed her eyes shut, cheeks on fire.
She wanted something.
She wanted him.
She wanted the mint out of her nose and the cup out of her body. She wanted an Alpha's knot buried deep in her cunt, she wanted lips on hers, mouth suckling her scent gland, fingers twisting nipples. She wanted a tongue on her clit—
God she couldn't, she couldn't. Her hands went back up to her chest pressed over her racing heart. She couldn't. Not here, not anytime soon. She waited with bated breath, squeezed her eyes shut tight until his breathing evened, and his sighs turned into gentle snores.
But inside her mind swerved, clarity returning with an awfulness that had her nauseous.
Her Heat was coming and there was nothing she could do to stop it surrounded by Alphas begging for a body that they did not want. And the thought of that had a strange pinch twisting through her heart.
A/N:
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