Lights, Camera, Omega (Hollywood Omegas #1)

The thought of us double penetrating Daphne at the same time, in conjunction with the visual of Sol cumming on my cock undoes me.

I stutter my last thrust, pulling out just in time to add my own seed to the pearly spatter of cum already pooling in the deep, chiseled grooves of Sol’s abs.

“If this is how bad we are before she’s in heat, or we’re in a rut…” Sol pants, careful not to move as he waits for me to grab him a towel to wipe down.

“It certainly looks like it’s going to be trouble,” I chuckle under my own ragged breaths as I make my way to grab him a washcloth.

“The best kind,” Sol beams, looking like the cat who ate the canary.

Julian, by far the most sensitive and sensible of the pack, suggested that we use our date to both handle some of the more mundane tasks surrounding my courting of Pack Silver, in addition to some of that pampering he had mentioned earlier.

We met at Tern’s Nest, Rupert in his cat carrier, a new litter box and other supplies to help him get settled in our new digs.

When I arrive, Julian is putting away some small tools and breaking down a bit of recycling. It’s strangely comforting to see him doing some more mundane housework tasks, considering the opulent luxury of Cypress House and the other lifestyle discrepancies that span the gulf between my level of income and that of Pack Silver.

“I was doing a little installation.” Julian waggles his eyebrows, helping me with Rupert’s things–getting the cat settled.

“I’ll help you pack up the rest of the apartment soon, but I figured today we would do a little self-care,” Julian stage whispers to me, as if we’re keeping some kind of secret.

We set out a bit of wet food and a couple of crunchy treats for Rupert, then depart to allow him time to explore his new space.

I drive us to the spa and salon Julian has made appointments for us at. The two of us singing along to oldies in my new pink Cadillac’s stereo. Julian complains that his voice is ‘terrible,’ nothing like Cosmo or Sol’—but I think he sounds lovely.

Halfway through the chorus of Ritchie Valens’ Bluebird over the Mountain, he reaches across the bench seat to hold my hand, lifting our clasped fingers to brush his lips over my knuckles with a gentle kiss.

When we arrive at the spa, two enormous women who look like shield maidens of yore escort us into a private changing room with dim lights and softly playing new age music in the background. Through the haze of lavender, tea tree, and sweet incense, they offer us both huge, plush bathrobes and cushy matching slippers before they dip out of the room to allow us privacy.

Julian, ever the gentleman, gives a quick look around the room before he announces, “Oh! I didn’t realize they’d have us in the same room. I can leave while you?—”

But before he can finish, I slip him a sultry smile—working the buttons of my white eyelet top open to showcase my delicate ballet pink lace bra.

“It’s sweet of you to worry about my virtue,” I hum sweetly, shrugging out of the shirt—my nipples hardening through the thin lace as I enjoy Julian’s green eyes drinking me in.

“But I’m neither so delicate, nor so innocent.” I wink at him, stepping out of my denim cutoffs and giving Julian a good look at my barely there g-string, the perfect match to my minimalist bra.

I watch his adam’s apple bob as Julian swallows hard.

“Daphne, I may not be an alpha, but this is still a pretty intense temptation,” he murmurs, moving toward me as if magnetized. His fingers gently brush the exposed flesh between my belly button and the waistline of my panties.

“Later,” I tease, pecking a kiss onto Julian’s lips before skipping backward—still facing him as I reach up my back to unhook my bra.

“There’ll be plenty of time to fool around after we’ve been pampered,” I taunt him, cupping my bare breasts tantalizingly as Julian sets to work, disrobing himself.

The two of us stand in near silence, each watching the other—our freckled skin reflecting the warmth of the dim salt lamps.

Julian stands, shirtless—his chest and stomach lean and lithe.

My eyes drift down the coppery trail of hair from beneath his belly button to the elastic band of his boxer briefs.

I shimmy out of my panties, not bothering to cover myself as I watch Julian slide his thumbs beneath the taught elastic of his boxers with a salacious smirk.

I’m more than a little shocked when Julian steps out of his boxers. He may be a beta, but his cock—even while soft—is intimidatingly large.

I had thought Sol’s equipment had been a little aggressively sized. Somewhere in the neighborhood of nine inches and thick—if I had to make a guess based on our backseat adventures. Julian looks like he’s almost that big, soft. I can’t imagine how monstrous he is hard, let alone if he also was able to sport a fully swollen knot.

This line of thinking starts the slick beading at my pussy lips, my clit throbs and I can feel my heartbeat between my legs.

“Look at who’s talking about temptation,” I whimper, already imagining Julian fucking me with that massive cock.