Chapter 4: Dizzying

It’s dizzying, when Sean bites down. For a moment, Beth forgets herself— who they are, where they are, what they are. She gasps, her hands scrambling for purchase in his hair.

He’s so big, and everywhere, one hand supporting her weight under her a*s, the other clutching sweetly at her hip. He has her pinned to the wall with his hips. She can still feel the indent of his teeth against her gland, and slick rushes between her legs, and she’s going to die if he stops, she just knows it. He seems to lose control every couple of seconds, rocking his hips against her— and god, he’s so hard and so close to where she wants him, she can’t bear it.

“F*ck,” he rasps against her skin. The word sends shockwaves directly to her clit, and she feels herself tense up, on some razor sharp edge. This started minutes ago— she can’t be this wet yet, this close, and yet—

Sean licks her neck again, deliberate, agonizingly slow. “You taste so good.”

She’s coming, and they’re still fully clothed.

“Good.” The word carries an Alpha weight, and she melts. He’s in no rush to let her down, even closer than before, pressing her legs open, making more room for himself, still mouthing at the glands on her neck.

She’s already getting lightheaded again. “Sean, wait—” He actually growls against her gland, sending shockwaves pulsing down her body, between her legs, where she can feel him, hard as a pike against her heat. “Sean, slow down, I can’t—”

Without warning, he just throws her over his shoulder. He’s still growling when he tosses her onto her bed, when he climbs on top of her. His hands slide up her body, bunching her shirt up so that he can kiss down her chest, over the soft lace cups of her bra. Beth struggles to get her shirt off, to throw it out of the way. She can smell the approval in the spike in his scent.

Dazed, she tries to get his shirt up, off, away, anywhere, so that she can touch and taste. He wrenches himself away from her and flings his shirt across the room, and she can feel her pulse spike.

She’s on him before she can stop herself, running her tongue across his skin, over whatever part of him she can reach— his pecs, his collarbone, the hollow of his throat, the underside of his jaw. He groans, his hands fisting in her hair, as she nips at his skin.

“Please,” she breathes, grazing her lips against the straining cords of his neck. She slides her hand down his torso, tracing the ridge of one hip, then dipping lower, right under the waistband of his jeans.

“Jesus.”

Biting her lip, she lets her hand go lower, undoing his fly so that she can reach him better. He’s hard and leaking, even through his boxers. The shuddering breath he draws in melts through her, and she moves her hand, tentatively at first, until his hips pick up a rhythm in her grasp.

“F*ck, —” she feels like she’s barely gotten a hand around him, but already he’s pushing her down, yanking at her jeans and throwing them somewhere— honestly she’s too busy trying to get him on her level to care.

“Sean, please,” she hears herself moan.

He purrs, his lips on her hip. “Be still, Omega,” he tells her, that Alpha weight behind his words, and she stills instantly. Ready to take whatever her Alpha wants to give her. Ready to be good for him.

It’s really not fair, she thinks, how she’s seconds away from coming every time he calls her Omega, and he seems to be in perfect control.

He crawls up her body to kiss her, tangling a hand in her hair to hold her where he wants her. When he pulls back, his eyes flick up above her head, and he chuckles. “You have a mirror on your headboard.”

Beth laughs, a little breathless. “Yeah. I’m secretly super kinky, or something.” She reaches down, still desperate to pull him over the edge with her, but he catches her wrist.

“If you touch me again, it’s over,” he says against her jaw. “I want this to last a little longer.” His teeth go back to her gland, and her train of thought leaks right out of her. She can’t help herself, arching up against him, trying to get him closer, closer, please, she’ll die if he doesn’t f*ck her, right now.

Maybe she said it out loud. Maybe he’s secretly telepathic. Maybe he just read her scent and finally gave in. It doesn’t matter what the reason is, though, because he presses into her, hard and leaking and oh so big. In, and in, until she’s afraid he won’t fit, he’ll be too much. He won’t want her, she won’t be good enough, she won’t please her Alpha—

“F*ck, you’re so tight, you’re—” she doesn’t know what else she is, though, because he bottoms out, his knot already starting to swell a little, and it’s perfect. There aren’t words to describe how perfect this is. Her fears melt right out of her brain. He squeezes her waist like he might fall apart if he lets go, his face buried in the pillow beside her head, breathing heavily.

“Sean?” She reaches up and touches his hair, the back of his neck, the broad expanse of his shoulders, trying to work through the contentment of being filled and see if he’s okay, but words are hard, through the thick fog of pleasure. “Sean, are you—oh!” The air rushes out of her as he pulls back, and slams into her again. And then he’s moving, hard and fast, his teeth digging into her shoulder, so close to her gland.

She cries out, pleasure dimming her vision. He’s so deep, so very deep, moving in just the right way, his lips at her collarbone, and then—

“Perfect,” Sean groans. “You’re perfect.”

Beth comes so hard, her vision completely whites out. It’s not until she resurfaces, dazed and limp, that she realizes he’s coming, too, like an avalanche.

They didn’t even use protection.

This is… dangerous. This could go south very quickly. Thank god she’s not in heat.

Sean rolls onto his back, still locked inside her, tucking her safely against him as he presses kisses into her hair. “Good Omega,” he purrs, and Beth shivers. She lays against his chest, and waits for her breathing to even out. The contentment soothes her so much that she dozes off— which she doesn’t realize, of course, until she wakes up, laying on her side in his arms.

Sean pulls away from her as gently as possible, pushing up from the bed in the same movement. Beth feels like she’s watching him through a mist, like everything around her is far away.

“I have to go,” he says. It’s all he says.

Beth just lays there and watches him pull on his jeans. She should probably also get dressed. See him out. Etiquette, or something like that. She even sits up, contentment still spread through her body, making her bones feel like jelly.

“Will you be subbing anytime soon?” She asks, finding her discarded shirt and pulling it on. This is the worst part of hooking up, no matter who she’s with. “Over at Waterfront Hall?”

“Not that I know of.” He pulls his own shirt on, and she just… watches. Not saying anything.

Standard hookup, and whatnot. With the added benefit of him helping her around the house. How nice of him.

“I’m sure I’ll see you soon,” she says, not sure what else to say. She finds herself chuckling, staring down at the floor— because really, looking at him makes her want to climb on top of him again, and— no. That’s not how this goes. “Who else is tall enough to reach my ceiling fan light?”

He turns to her with a grin, and for a moment, having him there is— too much. It’s just too much. Too domestic. Too real.

Beth is sure her grin is fake and plastic as she walks him out, and says her goodbye. She closes the door behind him, turns the lock— and then sinks down to the floor with her back against the door. Not much else she can do with her heart hammering so persistently in her chest.