The Omega Nanny

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The Omega Nanny Page 21

by Penelope Peters


  Kieran tentatively touched his tongue to the tip, and heard Thomas shout. He was barely aware of his mouth opening when the head of Thomas’s cock slipped in. Soft on his tongue on the tip, but achingly hard and solid around his lips, and Kieran was surprised how much the skin slipped over the hardness beneath. It tasted stranger, not quite as soft and yielding as the scent. It was more acidic in a good way, a musky sort of thing that made Kieran’s stomach curl, made him doubly aware of the way his damp boxers rubbed against his skin, clinging and itchy.

  The soft pearl of desire that he’d been feeling ever since they’d pulled into the garage was expanding, the desperate feeling of needing this man in him increasingly harder to ignore. Kieran could feel his hole opening, damp and ready and desperately empty.

  Thomas’s breaths were coming faster, and when he moved his hand to rest on the side of Kieran’s head, Kieran turned, letting his cock slip out of his mouth as he rested his cheek against Thomas’s pelvic bone. He felt Thomas’s groan before he heard it, saw the glistening dampness of his saliva on the end of Thomas’s cock, the gentle curve of it, the veins that he couldn’t quite see under Thomas’s dark skin. The soft spongy flesh at the base that would eventually grow and form Thomas’s knot, which would expand and tie them together as they both came. It was even darker than the rest of Thomas’s skin, and Kieran pulled forward and tasted it, suckling the loose flesh into his mouth.

  Thomas let out a shaking laugh. “Bed,” he said, strangled.

  “I like this,” said Kieran, stubborn, and released the knot in order to give it a flat-tongued lick. He heard a bang, and glanced up to see Thomas’s chin – the back of his head against the wall, as if he’d banged it there from sexual frustration, and grinned. “You like it, too.”

  “I’d like other things better,” growled Thomas. “Which is why – bed.”

  Thomas pulled Kieran up to his feet, his cock dragging against Kieran’s skin, leaving a thin, damp trail on his chest, and kissed him. After his cock, Thomas’s mouth tasted bland, but Kieran didn’t care, not with so much of their skin pressed together. Not the way Thomas moved against him as he kicked off the rest of his clothes, shuffled them across the room to the bed.

  Kieran fell onto the bed the moment his knees hit it, but even then, he couldn’t keep still. He was up, squirming and anxious and desperate to get back to Thomas’s cock, wanting only to mouth and nuzzle and lick and suck it, pull it into his mouth and breathe in the scent and flavor that seemed to shift with every inch. Just thinking about it made him wet and eager – and Thomas, Thomas seemed just as determined to cover Kieran with his body, press him down into the mattress.

  Which was good, too, thought Kieran, during the brief moment that Thomas overpowered him, and he almost let Thomas keep the upper hand.

  Except that Kieran wanted Thomas’s cock more, and even though he’d never really wanted anyone else in quite the same way… he wanted it now.

  It was a bit of wrestle before Kieran found himself on top of Thomas, straddling his stomach as he looked down at the cock, now upside-down and even larger than it’d been before. Thomas was still trying to shift Kieran, his hands on Kieran’s hips, but Kieran didn’t care. The skin was dry again, but the slit gaped under a tiny bead of clear come. Kieran reached forward and licked it off.

  Thomas stopped fighting, though his hands gripped Kieran’s hips even tighter.

  Kieran licked up – or maybe down, everything was backwards – until he reached the little fold of skin just below the head. Thomas’s groans went almost high-pitched as his body tensed and relaxed between Kieran’s knees. The foreskin fit perfectly in Kieran’s mouth, and tasted just as good as the rest of Thomas. Kieran teased the tightening skin, worked it between his lips, circled the pointed tip of his tongue in the gentle indention it left under the head, as Thomas groaned and made strangling sort of cries behind him.

  Fuck, that’s hot, wondered Kieran, and felt Thomas pull his hips down – or maybe up, Kieran couldn’t keep track – and then felt the damp heat of Thomas’s mouth as it drew Kieran’s cock in.

  Oh my fucking God.

  Kieran went still as his brain went offline, his lips around Thomas’s cock, his tongue flat against its curve, and he nearly bit down when Thomas began to suck. It was so… oh, God, so fucking wet, and then Thomas was licking up the shaft, curling his tongue around the tip, before sucking it back into his mouth until his lips could touch the base.

  Kieran felt his legs shake; he leaned his forehead down on Thomas’s skin, breathing hard around Thomas’s cock as it slipped out of his mouth. He couldn’t think, he could barely breathe, his nose rested so close to Thomas’s cock, but he could see the knot pulsing with every beat of Thomas’s heart, filling and growing as the folds of flesh began to expand and flatten.

  Kieran managed to pull himself closer to kiss it. Closed lips, then open lips, then with his tongue, laving the still spongey skin, tasting the musk of it, which grew more intense with every pulse. As if all the flavor was kept in the tiny folds and crevices, now released as it grew. Kieran licked and breathed it in, trying to keep up a rapidly disintegrating rhythm even as Thomas sucked him below, one hand guiding Kieran’s cock, one hand slipping in between his ass cheeks to brush one finger against Kieran’s hole.

  Thomas’s finger was an electric current, with every brush and pass. Kieran’s hole opened and closed, the muscles tensing and going haywire. When Thomas’s finger slipped in….

  The pull was too much. The current and curl of his stomach was too much. Thomas sucked hard on Kieran’s cock; pushed Kieran’s hips upward, and Kieran cried out, gasped, cried out again and lunged for Thomas’s cock, aching for something in him. Something. Somewhere. Anything. He couldn’t even remember what it was he wanted, or where he wanted it, but if something didn’t go in him right that fucking second he was going to go mad.

  If he wasn’t mad already, anyway.

  Kieran’s mouth fell on the side of Thomas’s cock, and he sucked. Hard.

  Thomas let out a shout as Kieran’s cock dropped free of his mouth. It bounced and hurt, and Kieran let out a deep whimper, but couldn’t release Thomas’s cock. Not yet.

  It’s not enough, oh fuck, it’s not enough, I need more, I need…

  He was on a precipice, a knife’s edge, he was going to—

  And then he was on his side, rolling to his back on the bed, and he saw the red marks from his teeth on Thomas’s skin, already fading when Thomas shifted. Kieran tried to reach for him, but his arms didn’t work right, refused to respond to his commands. Thomas pulled him roughly down the bed, until his feet were braced up against the headboard.

  “I—” gasped Kieran, desperate and apologetic and oh fuck, he was aching.

  Thomas fell forward on him, landing on his elbows on either side of Kieran’s chest. He growled, his face twisted with lust and fierce with desire. He slid his arms under Kieran’s shoulders, cradled his head and neck in his hands so that Kieran couldn’t look away.

  “Mine,” said Thomas, territorial and possessive. His arms wrapped around Kieran – his body pressing him to the bed. His cock between Kieran’s legs, not nearly close enough to the hole for Kieran’s liking. “You’re mine.”

  Kieran sucked in a breath.

  “Backwards,” he gasped. “You’re mine.”

  There was a flash across Thomas’s face – and then he began to laugh. He was still laughing when he kissed Kieran, gently, carefully.

  It was better than the heady rush from before. It wasn’t a claiming kiss. It wasn’t a possessive, lusty kiss. It was… acknowledgement. Caring.

  And there was room for Kieran to join in, to wrap his own tongue around Thomas’s. Equal parts both of them.

  Before – on Monday and Thursday and all the touches in between – Kieran had felt like he was about to vibrate straight out of his skin, or maybe take off like a rocket into the atmosphere. But with Thomas’s arms around him – with Thomas giving him the space to make his ow
n mark, to arrange his own place – Kieran was no longer wound quite so tightly. He spread his legs, pulled up his knees, and felt Thomas slot into place as they shifted on the bed. Thomas’s hand on his hip, helping to set him at the right angle. Thomas’s mouth kissing the side of Kieran’s lips, so that Kieran could breathe.

  Yes, yes, oh. Oh.

  Everything swam into focus when Thomas’s cock rested against Kieran’s hole, slick and slippery.

  Kieran sucked in a breath and looked around the room, as if seeing it for the first time.

  Daylight streamed in through the windows – the pheromones and smell of sex hung heavily in the air. The mostly bare white walls glowed with the afternoon sunshine that streamed in through the windows, and Kieran thought he could see the air dancing around them. Kieran’s skin had goose bumps; Thomas’s skin was warm and trembling, and he breathed humid air on Kieran’s cheek as he shifted, trying desperately to find entrance.

  “I can’t,” said Thomas, and Kieran could hear the near-sob in his voice clear as day.

  “I can,” said Kieran, as confident and sure as he’d ever felt, and he reached down with one hand and helped to line Thomas up, turning his face toward Thomas in time for a kiss just as Thomas’s cock breached him and began to push inside.

  The stretch was warm caramel over cold ice cream; alternating between burning and blissful in waves. Kieran’s body was hot and cold, aching and relieved, and he didn’t even realize his eyes were closed until he heard Thomas whisper, his lips brushing up against Kieran’s.

  “Open your eyes – Kieran, open your eyes. Look at me. Please, Kieran.”

  Kieran’s eyes opened slowly.

  Thomas was… God, he was gutted. He looked like how Kieran felt, about as lost as he’d been before he felt Thomas’s cock just at his hole, and he couldn’t have been in very far, not even an inch, and if either of them so much as breathed he’d slip out again.

  Neither of them moved, staring at each other, mouths open and gasping and sharing the air they breathed between them.

  No oxygen, we’re gonna hyperventilate, thought Kieran, and he couldn’t decide what was more hysterical, hyperventilating during sex or the fact that he was thinking about it.

  “Kieran?”

  A question, Kieran realized, and knew exactly what it was Thomas was asking. The knowledge filled him up with so much warmth and love and affection that he could have burst on the spot.

  “Yes,” whispered Kieran, as he lifted his head to kiss Thomas. And just before his lips met Thomas’s skin, he whispered, because the words had to be said, even if it was so quiet that Thomas couldn’t hear them. “I love you.”

  It was all Thomas needed – he moved, slid inside Kieran and fuck if that wasn’t exactly what Kieran had been wanting, desperately needing the entire time.

  It wasn’t a smooth motion – Thomas pulled in and out in stages, bit by bit, as Kieran slowly opened around him, feeling the stretch of his inner skin and the slickness between them. It was both delicious and terrible and such a painful relief that Kieran almost felt giddy.

  When Thomas bottomed out, his skin up against Kieran’s, pressed together as tightly and intimately as they could be, Kieran could feel himself teeter on the precipice again. Waves of bliss, greater now than the pain, the cold air in his lungs and the heat from Thomas’s skin.

  It wasn’t enough. Fuck, it was fantastic, it was everything, but it wasn’t enough, and Kieran arched his back, wanting to crawl inside of Thomas – or maybe have Thomas crawl inside of him, and he threw his head back and felt Thomas’s lips slide down to his neck.

  He felt the words, rather than heard them: felt the familiar cadence and the motion of Thomas’s mouth. “I love you, too.”

  Thomas bit, his teeth digging into the sensitive flesh of Kieran’s neck, marking and bonding him as Kieran came. Falling and falling and falling and clinging to Thomas, his entire body electric-blue lightning. The orgasm zinged through him, Thomas’s teeth on his neck but also everywhere else, sharp and sweet. Pain, yes, but… the only pain, such a thin pain. Easy pain, good pain, and it pushed Kieran back up on the precipice so that he could fall again, over and over and then that was all he could feel, the dizzying fall as the pain faded into pleasure.

  Thomas was everywhere – from the tips of Kieran’s fingers, to his toes and even to the ends of his hair. Marking him. Claiming him.

  Bonding them together.

  Kieran floated, wrapping his legs around Thomas, riding the waves as they gentled into soft laps. Thomas’s weight still pressed him into the mattress – they were still upside-down on the bed. The sunlight still streamed in through the windows, dust motes dancing in the air.

  Thomas licked the bite, drawing it into his mouth, sucking on it gently, laving it with his tongue, while Kieran idly ran his fingers over the curves and dips of his back. The knot held them together, steady and secure.

  Safe.

  Kieran felt… safe. Loved and adored and cared for, and he closed his eyes and breathed. He could still feel the waves of orgasm flow through him, sending soft shocks to his muscles that made them convulse and shake.

  Thomas squeezed him for a moment, with a deep sigh that ended with a gasp, as another wave of warmth flowed through Kieran.

  I’m wanted. He really does want me here.

  “Yes, of course I do,” said Thomas, and Kieran pressed his nose against Thomas’s head, a bit embarrassed to realize he’d said it aloud. But Thomas pulled up, and kissed him briefly. Kieran felt Thomas’s fingers run through his hair, and opened his eyes to look up at his mate, who was smiling down at him. “Never forget it.”

  “Okay,” said Kieran. “For the record, I want you too.”

  Thomas’s answering grin was infectious.

  And the kiss? The best thing Kieran had ever felt in his entire life.

  Bar nothing.

  Epilogue:

  Nine months later

  “You are never touching me again, Thomas Whittaker,” declared Kieran Corvey Whittaker through gritted teeth. His hair was matted with sweat, plastered to his forehead, and he was both pale and flushed.

  Thomas grinned, his head knowing that it was all talk. His heart, on the other hand – his heart was thumping away in his chest, as painful as if it was skipping every other beat and feeling twenty times too big. It didn’t matter how often Kieran or his doctors had reassured him that everything was fine, that everything would be fine, that they’d all sail through what was about to happen with flying colors.

  Thomas felt Kieran’s hand squeeze his so tightly that he was fairly sure that he’d lost all feeling in his fingertips. Kieran was strong. He’d be okay.

  They’d both be okay, Thomas told himself sternly. Kieran’s words weren’t prophetic, of course not. It was just the pain talking. What every omega said to every alpha in the labor and delivery room. There was no way Kieran actually meant them.

  “Whatever you like, lover,” said Thomas soothingly, but Kieran squeezed his hand harder and tried to look annoyed through the pain. Leave it to Kieran to know when Thomas was lying through his teeth. “Just one more push, okay?”

  “All right, Kieran, we’re ready,” said the doctor, and Kieran let out a deep groan as his entire face clenched in effort. Thomas counted out, knowing that Kieran could hear him, knowing that he was holding onto Thomas’s voice just as tightly as he held onto his fingers.

  Kieran’s groan ended in a shaking gasp, his eyes popping open wide and his mouth falling open in surprise. But before Thomas could soothe him, tell him he’d done great, it wouldn’t be long now….

  Waaaaaaaah.

  “It’s a girl!” announced the doctor, and Kieran fell forward into Thomas’s chest, exhausted and breathing hard. Thomas could already feel the tension fading from his mate’s muscles as Kieran relaxed, limp and strangely deflated, until the sound of their daughter’s cries roused him.

  “Here,” Kieran said as he pushed himself up, his voice a bit fuzzy. He looked al
l right – skin pale under cheeks pink with exertion, sweat dotted on his forehead. He reached out for the baby, completely heedless of Thomas next to him, and the nurses were quick to comply. The baby settled in his arms, still covered in mucus and blood, still whimpering softly. She calmed almost the instant Kieran’s arms wrapped around her.

  Thomas knew the doctors and nurses were still there, still doing whatever needed done – but they stayed demurely away as Kieran leaned in to nuzzle his new daughter, to get her scent in his nose, to let her settle in his arms. Thomas kept one arm over his back, watching over them. The way Kieran stretched, Thomas could see the bond bite clearly on his neck, and it soothed him almost as much as the scent of them together.

  “Look at that,” breathed Kieran as the baby yawned.

  “Well,” said Thomas, feeling his heart swell and pound and ache in his chest, “she’s had a big day.”

  Kieran snorted, as if he had his own opinions about what constituted a big day – but he leaned into Thomas a little more solidly, pressing his shoulder close as if to reassure him. Thomas rested his nose in Kieran’s damp curls and breathed in the scent of Kieran, already shifting, twisting around the scent of blood and birthing fluids, and the pale, faint scent of the new baby.

  “Told you it’d be fine,” Kieran murmured as he nuzzled the baby, and Thomas smiled into Kieran’s hair. Kieran might have been reassuring Thomas – but he still sounded relieved.

  “You did.” Thomas touched the baby’s cheek with a long finger. Her tan skin was clear and unblemished, squashed nose and paper-thin eyelids, with hair so thin that it might have been drawn on with a pencil. “I should tell your parents. They’re in the waiting room with the rest of them.”

  “Oh, God,” groaned Kieran, and turned further into Thomas’s chest. “Ten more minutes? My mother is going to be insufferable.”

 

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