Chapter 6: Elliott - Wrong Date, Right Mates

He scans the beach, muscles in his arms and abs tensing, hands fisting like it’s taking all of his willpower to resist me. “I’m going to take you upstairs.”

“Upstairs?” I wail. “I’d rather die than climb up the stairway to hell.”

He smiles sympathetically. “I’ll carry you.”

“No. It’s too hot.” I’m hot enough that I don’t even want to be pressed against this alpha’s body.

He squats in front of me, planting his large palms on my knees. My gaze dips to the erection still tenting his trunks.

“Elliott?” he guides my chin up. “Look around. There is sand everywhere. I can’t knot you on a public beach.”

Oh. I blink. “You want to knot me?”

His ears turn red. “So much.”

My belly swoops. He rises to standing and busies himself packing up our stuff, shaking out my clothes the best he can, then balling them into his bag with a wistful look like he wants to stop and sniff them. “Can you stand?”

“Yeah.” But my knees wobble and dizzying nausea makes me nearly faint.

He launches toward me as I sway and eases me back down. “Okay. Scratch that.”

Another cramp builds, too soon, too strong, even for me. I’m basically weeping slick like a faucet at this point, and I hate sitting in wet panties. I need to be naked, but there’s sand everywhere and Tyler isn’t my alpha. Flames lick at my skin. I’m so hot. Everything hurts.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

“Home? No,” I mewl. “Not there.”

“Understood. You’re in charge here. Tell me where you want to go.”

He cups my cheek, and I lean into his hand, but that’s not enough so I nuzzle against his palm, petting myself for him. He takes it one step farther, anticipating my needs, and strokes up and down my neck before pressing firmly against my scent gland, grounding me. The pain in my stomach starts to fade.

“Do you have a nest?” he asks.

“No.” I clutch my stomach as a new cramp stacks right on top of the last one with no break in between, with a very unsexy groan.

“That’s okay. I don’t need a nest,” he clarifies because he’s perfect. “We can make one later.”

Pain peaks as the cramp tears through my middle slowly, like I’m being ripped in half. I moan in abject agony as every muscle in my body clenches. Tears spill over. I curl in on myself and hide my face against my knees.

Panic ripples through me. My heats are always painful, but I’ve never had a heat like this, and it’s terrifying, especially after last heat. I need to be somewhere safe.

“Why is this happening?” I whine. “It hurts.”

“I don’t know.” He frowns.

Wait, why is he frowning? Maybe he doesn’t want me, and that’s why he’s stalling.

I roll onto my side and ball into the fetal position. Everything else fades away except for searing pain. Distantly, Tyler’s muffled voice assures me it’s okay, that he’ll take care of me. He’s touching me, but I’m in so much pain his soft touch barely registers; I just know he’s touching me. Or maybe I’m hallucinating.

Slowly the pain recedes. Not completely, but enough for my muscles to relax and my eyes to open. I close them again. The sun is too bright. I’m queasy and exhausted, and I know the next cramp will be even worse until I take a knot. I roll onto my back and pull uselessly at my panties, and sand grazes my foot. I mewl again.

“Please,” I whine. “It hurts.”

“Do I have your consent?” Tyler asks, voice rough.

“Do whatever you want to me. Just make it stop.” At this point, I’m going to play with my hole myself if I have to, but what if the pain is too strong and I can’t even make myself come?

He exhales a long breath. “Okay. But after I get you off, I’m taking you upstairs.” His hand leaves me, which is the opposite of what I want.

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.” He wedges his board into the sand on its side like a very short wall, hiding me from immediate view if someone descends the steps. Then he grabs his backpack and gently drapes his wet suit over it and the board, just enough to cast a shadow over my face.

The reprieve from the sun is everything. He’s a good alpha. He’ll take care of me. “Thank you.”

He smiles wanly. “It’s not much.” He hooks his fingers in the waistband of my panties, raising goosebumps across my skin, then pauses. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Oh my god, yes,” I snap. I appreciate the focus on consent, but we did that already.

He nods gravely, then drags my panties down and off. The relief is immediate. My cock no longer constrained, no longer sitting in my juices.

He inhales sharply, gaze turning feral, muscles quivering as he lifts my panties to his lips and inhales. “Christ, you smell so fucking good.”

I mewl my gratitude, and let my instincts guide me, pushing through the pain and exhaustion, trying to roll onto my stomach to present, but I’m too weak and the next cramp gathers.

“Stay.” His large hands pin my hips down, our size difference so wide his thumbs nearly join in the middle. “I want to see you.”

Oh. Okay. He sits back, straddling my thighs.

“Alpha,” I whine.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Holding eye contact, he rubs his hands on his trunks, then does something I would have worried about if I wasn’t already so far gone. He licks his palm, and each finger, on both hands, pausing to spit out the stray sand on his skin. He even licks between his fingers. Then he turns his head and spits one more time.

He does it so quickly, there’s no attempt to be sexy, but that’s what’s so sexy about it. He’s making sure no sand hurts me while he takes care of me. The thought of sand in my mouth is basically nightmare fuel, one step above it sandpapering my hole, and the gesture brings tears of gratitude to my irrationally weepy eyes.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

He smiles, then bows his head over my lap, and warm wet heat envelops my length. His eyes roll back and he hums. It’s a completely foreign feeling, and I love it.

“Oh my god, that feels so…” The pleasure is so intense, it pushes my pain into a corner. “You don’t have to do that,” I whine, feeling insecure and needy. “No one’s ever…”

Vibration surrounds my cock as he makes some sort of possessive, closed-mouth growl, like he’s furious anyone else touched me, but also furious no one deigned to suck my dick before they fucked me, and glory because he gets to be the first to taste my precum. Slick trickles out of me and slides down my crack, preparing me to take him.

He doesn’t even give me a chance to beg him to penetrate me, to give me what I need to find relief. He hikes my knees toward my ears with one arm, and swirls his finger through the slick between my legs, then the pad of his finger presses against my hole. He looks up at me, utterly wrecked, and I see the temptation there, how badly he wants to taste my slick, but he’s taking care of me instead.

With gentle, steady pressure, he pushes past my rim and starts to sink in. But instead of taking the edge off, his thick finger lights a match as he slides all the way in, accelerating my cramping. He looks up with empathy, and wedges another finger in. The cramp recedes, circling me just below the pleasure of his touch. I moan and arch my head back.

He lifts his head with a pop of suction broken and jerks me with his other hand. “Goddamn, you’re so hot inside. This alright?”

If I wasn’t so heat-drunk, I’d tell him No shit, Sherlock. I’m going into heat during a heat wave.

Pain scratches at my conscience. “More. I need more.”

Without removing his finger, he repositions himself to lie between my legs, then he bows his head again, bypassing my cock, and laps at my hole. I jolt at the contact, spilling more precum and slick at the same time. He slides another finger in, giving me what I need, and scissors me open as he works his way in with a lewd sound of slick and friction.

He moans against me with open hunger, licking between his fingers and around my hole while he continues to jerk me, thumb grazing the tip of my cock and smearing precum around my tip as he jerks me.

He’s so fucking good at this. Why is he so good at this? Has he been with a lot of omegas? What if I’m not good enough?

“Fuck. You’re making so much slick for me,” he says against my hole, then spits to join our scents.

I hum at his praise, and tense as another cramp builds. I clench down around him, but it’s not a knot and it’s not enough.

“Such a good omega. Can you take another finger for me?”

I nod. “Please.”

The third finger slides in embarrassingly easily, but it’s finally enough to fill the ache in me. My alpha looks up with pride, with adoration. He doesn’t just fuck me with his fingers like it’s a temporary cock. He alternates between deep strokes, pads of his fingers curled toward my belly button, then easing out just enough to massage my prostate, all while stroking me root to tip. Each time his thumb catches beneath my crown, pleasure sparks through me.

“Fuck. Oh my god… I—” I gasp as a wave of slick gushes from me.

He laps it up, still jerking my cock with his other hand. It’s like he’s everywhere all at once. “I’m close. I’m close. I’m close.”

A low, rumbling purr vibrates through me before he lifts his mouth and sucks my cock, tongue swirling around my length, paying special attention to my crown, and licking against my slit all while he rocks his fingers into me.

I don’t know what he’s doing down there, but he stretches me wider, slowly, almost like a knot, then gags himself on my dick, squeezing it exquisitely. I search his gaze for permission to come. My stomach somersaults at the feral gleam in his gaze, attention rapt on me, and that’s all I need.

My back arches. My eyes close. Bliss floods my bloodstream, and all pain fades away as I come, hands fisted in his black hair, pulling him closer.

“Mm,” he hums, driving my pleasure higher as he adds a fourth finger, surprising me. It feels almost exactly like a knot lodged inside me.

His pupils eclipse his irises as he drinks all of me down. All fear flees me. I’m exhausted, momentarily sated, bathing in the aftershocks of my orgasm as he rocks his fingers infinitesimally, knuckles catching deliciously on my rim.

Finally, finally, I feel a little more like me. No feverish feeling. No anxiety. My lids droop, exhaustion filling me now that I’ve found relief.

“Thank you, alpha,” I murmur.

He kisses the crease of my thigh, the first kiss, and it isn’t even on my lips. “You don’t know how hard it is to resist knotting you right now.”

“Do it then.”

He shakes his head ruefully, black hair shifting and shimmering beneath the sunlight. “Soon.” He kisses my thigh again, sits up, and slowly withdraws his fingers, lavishing my skin with kisses, and a long luxurious lick of my slick from his fingers.

“Close your eyes and rest. I’ve got you. I’ll carry you upstairs.”

I do as he says.

“Good omega,” he says as I drift off to sleep.