Page 16 of The Florist and Her Alphas

The scent is rich, musky, sweet-salty arousal mixed with the distinct, intoxicating note of omega slick. It’s fucking primal. Animal. My alpha brain short-circuits, blood roaring in my ears, cock throbbing so hard I have to bite my lip to keep from groaning out loud.

She’s an omega. No question. And she’s alone. Why the fuck is she alone?

I press my nose one more time between her legs, inhaling deeply, memorizing the scent. Then I force myself back. And I slowly stand up on shaking legs.

My gaze roams briefly around her room, stopping on a pair of underwear.

It’s hanging off the side of the wicker hamper by the door. It’s crumpled, the crotch dark with dried slick. Used.

Licking my lips, I make my way to the hamper and quickly snatch them up. Feeling like a total creep, I stuff them into the pocket of my jeans and calmly walk out of her room like I didn’t just smell her pussy and steal her underwear.

Once I’m back in my room, I quickly lock the door, leaning against it, breathing hard.

My cock is already rock-fucking-hard, thick and veined, straining against my zipper with every heartbeat. The stolen underwear burns in my pocket like a live wire.

I pull them out. Hold them up in the low light of my bedside lamp.

Cotton. Simple. Pale pink. The crotch is stained dark with dried slick, the fabric stiff in places, soft in others. Her scent hits me before I even bring them to my face. I want to keep her scent forever with me.

Ever so slowly, I press the damp crotch to my nose and inhale.

Deep. Long.

Letting her scent flood my lungs like a drug, like oxygen, like something I’ve been starving for my entire life. My eyes roll back. A low growl rumbles from my chest, involuntary, primal. My cock throbs, pre-cum beading at the tip, soaking through my boxers.

Oh my fucking god. All I want is her right now. I want to knot her so badly.

An image of her fully naked pops into my mind.

Her wide green eyes, with gold flecks catching the light. Auburn hair spilled across my sheets, long and wavy. Those medium breasts, narrow waist, soft hips. That big, beautiful ass I saw splayed across her bed, pajama pants clinging to the curves. The silvery, jagged bite mark on her left collarbone—failed claiming, that never healed- and the scattered scarring on her inner forearms.

My alpha brain snarls at the thought.

Possession burns through me, white-hot and vicious. I want to pin her down. Spread her thighs. I want to bite her properly—my teeth in her neck, my knot swelling inside her, locking us together while she comes on my cock. Claim what’s mine.

I unbuckle my belt and quickly shove my jeans and boxers down to my thighs. My cock springs free, thick and angry, veined and leaking. Nine inches of hard alpha dick that wants nothing more than to be buried in her tight little omega pussy.

I wrap her underwear around my shaft.

The soft cotton glides over my skin, catching on the precum, the friction slick and perfect. I stroke. Slow at first, then rougher. Base to tip, my fist gripping the fabric-covered length of my cock, her scent surrounding me, drowning me.

“Fuck,” I groan, low and rough. My hips buck into my hand. The underwear is soaked now from my pre-cum mixing with the residue of her slick.

I need more.

I pull the underwear from my cock and shove the entire fucking thing into my mouth. Stuff them deep, the cotton filling my cheeks, pressing against my tongue. I bite down hard. Suck. Greedy, desperate, and fucking feral. She brings that out in me.

The taste of her slick explodes on my tongue as if I’m eating her out in real life. Her beautiful rose scent mixed with sweat makes my cock harden even more. If she saw me now with her used underwear in my mouth…

My hand finds my cock again, and I pump, hard and fast, fist flying along my shaft in brutal strokes that make my thighs shake.

I imagine her tight body under mine, her pussy dripping slick, taking my cock because she’s been so naughty. Those defiant pale green eyes rolling back, her mouth open, crying out as I pound into her.

My hand on her throat. My teeth on her neck. My knot swelling, locking us together while she comes around me, milking every drop from my balls.

The fantasy is so vivid I can feel her—the heat of her, the wet grip of her cunt, the way her ass would jiggle with each thrust. My hips buck wildly, fucking into my fist like it’s her body, veins bulging in my neck, sweat beading on my chest.

The taste of her makes me insane. I moan around her panties, the sound muffled and animalistic, my free hand gripping the headboard so hard the wood creaks.