Omega's Destiny: Foxes of Scarlet Peak (An M'M Shifter MPreg Romance Book 5)(11)

His omega cock grew within my hands. I kept my motions slow, using my fingertips only. He responded with slight intakes of his breath as he licked and kissed my chest. Finally, his hands went to my cock, which was already really hard.

Our dicks pressed against each other, and almost at the same time, we looked down between our legs, our foreheads pressing together. Admiring the view, we stroked each other, jerking each other off, somehow understanding our rhythm already. I could feel an orgasm approaching, lingering right beneath his fingertips.

“Let’s come together,” he whispered. I nodded, cupping his balls. His hand did the same, but the tip of his middle finger slid beneath and pressed against my hole. That had never happened to me before, and the sensation was just what I needed.

“I’m coming,” I whispered, clenching my teeth as my cock shot cum all over his.

“Me too,” he groaned. Using my own cum as more lubricant, I jerked his cock as he came, spraying his omega nectar onto my cock and stomach.

We both watched, almost in awe, as our cocks flexed and jerked, shooting cum all over each other, rubbing them together as we stood beneath the warm water of the shower. I sighed as I started to come down, and gently sucked Bobby’s lower lip, causing him to smile.

“Frotting,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Frotting,” he repeated. “That’s what that’s called. When you rub your cocks together like that.”

I chuckled and looked into his eyes. It was hypnotic. That pale green, almost gray of his irises took me to another place, and it was hard not to think of one word when I looked into them.

Destiny.





9





Bobby





“And I get breakfast?” I teased as I sat on the bench of the dining area of Clint’s small kitchen. The trailer didn’t have a ton of room, but it was quaint and well kept up, and the little booth I was sitting in was very reminiscent of one in the diner – only much nicer with less gum under the table. “An alpha who cooks? Color me shocked.”

“Well, don’t get too excited,” Clint replied, turning from the stove to flash me a heart-melting smile. “I never said it was going to be good. I hope you like eggs.”

“Who doesn’t like eggs?”

“My dad,” he scoffed, working the spatula in the pan. It felt like he was leaving an opening in the conversation for a question, so I took it.

“Not an…egg guy?” I asked. Clint shook his head. “What kind of a guy was he?”

“Well, I never knew my alpha father,” he said with a tone I couldn’t quite decipher. “My other father, John, who raised me…he didn’t like eggs. He didn’t like much, to be honest.”

“That must have been hard,” I replied as he spooned out the eggs onto a plate. The toaster popped and he put a piece of toast on each plate and brought them over to the table.

“It wasn’t ideal,” he said with a sigh as he sat down beside me. He didn’t sit in front of me, and I liked that. “But it wasn’t a horror story. I got out of there when I was eighteen, though. Got on my bike and never looked back.”

“Where is there?” I asked, shoveling a forkful of scrambled eggs into my mouth.

“Texas,” he replied. “Just outside of Austin.”

“Oh,” I replied simply. I hadn’t been expecting that. Maine was a long way from Texas, maybe as far away as you could get, and I guess I’d just expected he’d grown up here. There wasn’t a trace of an accent in his voice.

“I know I don’t sound like it,” he smiled. “But I’m a southern boy. Well, I used to be.”

“You said you…used to be like them?” I asked hesitantly. “The bikers.”

Clint nodded and swallowed. “I ran with a club down in Texas. I was young, so I wasn’t really one of them, but I wanted to be. Mostly, I was looking for a family. They looked out for me for the most part, until…”

“Until what?” I asked him, but I could see by the expression on his face that whatever it was he was thinking of was painful. I didn’t want to push it. “You know what? It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. Why don’t I tell you about me?”

Clint looked at me and smiled. Something was bothering him, and all I wanted to do was help him with it. But it wasn’t time for that – not yet.

“So I live with my mom,” I explained. “She’s a waitress at the Greenwaters Diner, where I also work – well…where I also worked.”

“Quit?”

“Fired,” I replied, finally realizing my situation. Everything had been moving so fast since Mr. Williams let me go that I hadn’t really had a chance to process it. But I was now without a job, and if I went back to Ryker to explain what had happened, there was a good chance I wouldn’t be working for them anymore either. And that was the best case scenario.

“Is that why you work for the Black Cross?” he asked. “Extra money on the side?”

I nodded grimly and took a sip of the orange juice he’d poured for me. “Mom doesn’t know. She’d kill me.”

“What would you do if you could do anything in the world?” he asked me. His question surprised me. No one had asked me that before, not since preschool, and they asked everyone that when we were little.