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Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

W yatt

Ten years ago

I find her curled up like a cat on a sofa in the kitchen, dressed in one of Daxton’s old football shirts, a book in her hand. As I come closer, I make out the title – Emma .

“Are you studying?” I ask her. “Or is this one for pleasure?”

It’s been three days since we all started sleeping with her. Four more before her mom and Daxton’s dad return. There hasn’t been much studying in that time. In fact, there hasn’t been any at all.

“Both,” she says, lowering her book to her lap. “I’m so behind in my revision, it’s unreal.”

I lean against the counter and observe her.

“Are you regretting–”

She shakes her head. “No,” she says, her gaze unyielding, “I don’t regret it. Even if I fail the entrance exam. These last few days have been incredible. If I fail, I fail.”

“From what I’ve heard, that’s unlikely.”

“Hmmm,” she says, chewing on the inside of her cheek. She’s so ridiculously cute. Like all my omega fantasies come real in one actual woman. I have a strong desire to bend her over that couch and have her. I’m also unnerved by her unease.

Is that an alpha thing? Is that an alpha and omega thing?

I’ve been an alpha five years now and the strange instincts, foreign urges, alien impulses still take me by surprise. Especially the instincts, urges and impulses that come when I’m with this omega. My interactions with omegas have been few. Omegas are rare.

Maybe it was inevitable, despite who she is, who she is related to, that we would end up in bed together. I don’t know how any omega and alpha could ever fight this.

I take a seat beside her on the sofa.

“You could watch one of the film adaptations. They’re pretty close to the original text.”

“You’ve watched Emma ?” she says surprised.

“You have to pass English to make it into Medical School,” I point out.

“Do you remember much of it?”

“I don’t easily forget anything,” I confess. “My brain is built a little differently.”

“I like that about you,” she says with a smile.

“You do?” I say. “Sometimes I think it annoys Daxton and Owen.” I peer down at my lap, then her feet, then lift her feet into my lap. They are tiny – at least half the size of mine – and each little toenail is painted a blood red. I stroke my thumb along her big toe and then the sole of her foot.

“I think we all annoy each other sometimes,” Harper says. “But the three of you seem very close.”

“Like brothers,” I say, because it’s what everyone says. She jolts and I realize my mistake. I wish I didn’t have the ability to end up with my giant feet in my mouth every time I make conversation. “You don’t annoy me.”

“Oh, I’m sure I would. Give it time.” She laughs.

I shake my head. “No, I don’t think you could. You’re perfect. Everything about you,” I stare down and admire her feet, “right down to your toes.”

“Oh no,” she says, “you’re not one of those ones who have a fetish for feet?”

“Not that I am aware of. Would it be a problem if I did?”

“I guess it would depend on what you wanted to do with my feet. What you’d want me to do with my feet.”

I cradle her right foot in my hand and lift it to my mouth. I kiss the tip of each toe.

“This acceptable?” I ask.

“Uh huh,” she says, sinking further into the sofa and letting her book fall to the floor.

“How … about this?” I ask, sucking her big toe into my mouth and swirling my tongue around it.

“Oh,” she squeaks, surprised, her body tensing at first and then relaxing. “Surprisingly nice.”

I drag her toe out of my mouth. “I’ve never done that before. It really felt okay?”

“Uh huh,” she says. I lift her foot back to my mouth, glide my tongue over the sole of her foot and suck at her toe again. She whimpers a little and her eyes flutter shut.

I’ve slept with her three times now – yes, I have been counting. I’ve watched her sleep with the others too. Unlike the others, I have not done much more.

Women are interesting to me. I enjoy sleeping with them. I’ve never been particularly interested in anything else – either relationship-wise or sexually. Owen’s always waxed lyrical about eating a woman out. Daxton loves to tease a girl. Now I understand why.

Is the difference because Harper is an omega, or because Harper is Harper?

“Hmmm,” she says, “that feels so good.”

“Do you think Mr. Knightley ever sucked Emma’s toe?”

She snaps open her eyes and sits up straight. “Mr. Knightley?! What the hell?!”

“You didn’t know?”

“But he’s her brother-in-law!”

“Technically, her sister’s brother-in-law.”

“Wow,” she says, glancing down at the book. “I sensed vibes between them but I dismissed it. I didn’t think Jane Austen was kinky enough to go there.”

“Weren’t they all marrying their cousins back in those days?”

“Probably.” She rolls up onto her knees and shuffles towards me. “And I think they were doing all the kinky stuff too. Toe sucking and all.” She points down to my foot. “Your go.”

“Ahhh I don’t think–” I begin to say, shaking my head. But then she’s dropping down onto the floor and kneeling before me.

“Foot,” she says, holding out her hand. I place my right heel on her palm, thankful I’m fresh out of the shower.

“You have beautiful feet too,” she says and then sucks my toe right into her mouth.

The sensation is bizarre. Not repulsive, but not particularly pleasant either.

She frowns and removes my toe from her mouth.

“You don’t like it?” she asks, peering up at me through her eyelashes.

I peer down at her, kneeling between my legs.

I reach down to cup her chin in my hand. “I think there is something else I’d prefer you to suck.”

Like I said, I enjoy sex. I’ve been offered blow jobs. I’ve always turned them down. They’ve never appealed to me.

Until now.

Seeing my toe between her plush lips has made me realize how good my cock would look between them. And I’m sure it would feel damn pleasant.

She nods and I shuffle down my shorts, and present my already stiff cock to her.

She stares at it for several long seconds and I think she might change her mind. Then she says, “Your cock is even more beautiful than your feet.”

It’s a funny thing to hear her say and I let out a huff of laughter, something I rarely do. She laughs too, a sound that makes my stomach spin. Then she’s leaning closer and kissing the tip of my cock, precome sticking to her lips.

I hold my breath and watch as she glides her tongue around my cock-head, eyes locked on mine. It feels divine, makes me shiver.

She shuffles closer, wraps her hand around the base of my cock, and then she hesitates.

“I’ve never actually done this before, so if I do it wrong, or you don’t like …”

“I’ve never had one before so I wouldn’t know,” I say, with another huff of laughter. “It’s going to be a case of the blind leading the blind.”

She giggles. “Then just tell me what feels good and what doesn’t.”

She guides my cock into her mouth, closes her lips around my shaft and sucks.

And oh fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

“Th-th-that feels good,” I groan, falling back against the cushions. “It looks good too.”

She sucks more firmly, hollowing out her cheeks.

It’s good, really good, but I realize I need more. I need friction.

“Maybe if you moved. Suck my cock in and out of your mouth,” I growl, right at the back of my throat. “But mind your teeth.”

Her eyes widen and she does what I say.

I groan. I was right. The friction makes it even better.

“Faster,” I tell her and she’s bobbing her head up and down my cock, sucking me hard, the slurping noises from her mouth obscene and erotic. I bury my hands in her blonde locks, twisting them around my fingers, stroking her cheeks with the pads of my thumbs.

She’s still gripping the base of my cock and I cover it with my own and move her fist up and down my shaft in time with her mouth.

“I’m gonna come,” I warn her, not giving a shit how quick I’ve lasted. The combination of the aesthetic and the sensation too overpowering.

I expect her to back away. She doesn’t. She clamps her lips around my cock and I come straight into her mouth, right down her throat. She’s not spitting it out. She’s swallowing it up. All of it.

“Fuck,” I say in amazement.

She rocks back on her heels, my cock popping from her mouth, and smiles up at me, licking her lips as she does.

“My knot,” I mutter, tightening her grip around the base of my cock so that she’s squeezing hard against my expanding knot.

“Was it okay?” she asks me, our hands still gripping my cock.

“I liked it a lot,” I tell her. “And you?”

She kneels forward, lifting her mouth to mine, and I kiss her, tasting myself on her lips. That isn’t repulsive. I like it too.

She kisses me gently, caressing my lips with hers.

“I liked it too,” she says, “even more than the toe-sucking.”

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