8. Chapter 8

After several long seconds of silence, Nicole finally speaks and only utters a single word— “Wow,” —before realizing that she’s been staring this whole time, wide-eyed and speechless. She then stutters through the next few words that follow, failing to save face. The makings of a blush coloring her cheeks a light pink.

Beside her Mrs. McClain giggles, clapping her hands in delight, her dark brown eyes twinkling behind her glasses.

And Waverly, under the alpha’s intense gaze, fiddles with the sides of the dress nervously, face burning up with either a blush or embarrassment; she can’t tell which.

“I’d say that this dress is an absolute keeper, isn’t it?” The older omega says, “Would you like me to ring it up?”

Nicole looks to Waverly for confirmation, saying yes when the omega nods her head.

Waverly could only imagine what the dress and everything else Mrs. McClain found for her would cost once the price tags are scanned in the checkout aisle. She wonders, does Saks Fifth Avenue even have one of those? Waverly didn’t both to check on her way in, too busy being bombarded by silk, gold, marble and the special sale signs for items marked twenty-percent off their original thousand dollar price.

Standing beside the alpha, Waverly watches curiously as Mrs. McClain scans the price tags of the dresses. The numbers on the cash register monitor, touchscreen and streamlined, continuing to increase with every item. The Cotton Pique Fit-And-Flare Dress from Carven, $490; the Messina Bell Dress from LIKELY, $228; the Acme Dress by Privacy Please, $228; along with a wide array of heels and jewelry Nicole must have found while Waverly was in the changing area. Including the pair of Stuart Weitzman heels Mrs. McClain had mentioned before. As well as a couple of handbags, one of them being a leather-bound monogrammed Saint Laurent handbag, exclusively made lin Italy, priced at a whopping $3,750!

With everything scanned and placed delicately in white bags, the cash register monitor beneath a long list of items, reveals their total purchase at a staggering $9,337. Waverly’s eyes widen in disbelief, unable to keep them from looking like giant saucers as Nicole pulls out a shimmering black card from her wallet (name and numbers lined in gold no less).

The older omega swipes the card and not a single thing is out of place, no air horn blaring at maximum volume for the entire store to know that her credit card had been declined, there’s no obsessive watching on the alpha’s part to monitor her own credit score on her phone. Not even the timeless ritual of absently gnawing off the skin of her thumb, praying that she’d be able to have enough money for her next outing.

“Is there anything else you two would like?" Mrs. McClain asks with an easy smile as though she didn't just ring up almost ten grand.

"That’s alright," Nicole then looks to Waverly. "Unless there's anything more you'd like?"

Waverly shakes her head, pulling the corner of her bottom lip beneath her teeth softly. She couldn’t imagine being able to stay standing and watch the price of their shopping trip go any higher. Doing so would result in her fainting!

Nicole puts the card away along with the receipt. Waverly wonders if there was ever a time where the alpha had gone through financial hardships. But knowing that Nicole is the heir to a seven-hundred-year-old dynasty and the next queen of France, should the country ever decide to reinstate the monarchy, it’s impossible to see her as a twelve-year-old running around with worn-out sneakers and living in a house in need of massive repairs.

“There you go sweetheart,” Mrs. McClain says with a bright smile, “I hope to see you both very soon.”

“Likewise,” Nicole replies, grabbing the bags before Waverly can reach for the handles. “I’ve got this.”

Waverly murmurs a quiet goodbye, not even sure if the older omega can even hear her. But the soft smile she receives tells her as much before she’s off, briskly walking to catch up to Nicole.

Once settled in the Lamborghini, after Waverly had mistakenly made a double take looking for her cherry red Jeep, they head back home.

Well, Nicole's mansion to be exact.

The car ride is peaceful, better than what it was before. The atmosphere isn't heavy with tension, she doesn't feel as guilty as she did before and can actually enjoy the heated seat warming her backside.

There is a comfortable silence between them and Waverly takes the moment to stare out the window at all the passing evergreens.

"You looked beautiful in that dress," Nicole says.

"T-Thank you," Waverly flitters between the window, her lap, and the glove compartment. "For the dresses, the jewelry, the heels and the handbags."

"It's no big deal, happy to do it."

"Still, I feel like I should say sorry for all that happened with Champ at Ghost River. Again. "

"Well," Nicole smiles, "If it makes you feel any better, the jewelry is actually an apology—I found Calamity Jane playing with one of your bracelets in the upstairs hallway, knowing her she'll never give it back."

"Aww, that's okay." Waverly had her own run-in with that tiny terror herself and was certain from the second they met, she would never see her bracelet ever again. She's made peace with it. Pretty much had to.

“Believe it or not, she actually likes you.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah, instead of purring or rubbing up against you like a normal cat, mine just steals the first shiny thing she knows is yours,” there’s a small smile of disbelief. “Huh… my cat’s a klepto. Didn’t see that one coming.”

“Well I think it’s adorable, she does this sort of thing often?”

“That's just it, CJ isn’t the type to open up so quickly. Took two months for her to get used to Shae when we were dating, three months for her to forgive me when I changed her food.”

They share a laugh, a giggle really, before returning to that easy, awkward silence they shared. Aided by the soft vibrations of the carbon fiber seats and the hum of the Lamborghini's engine, Waverly figures that Nicole senses it too when she continues after momentarily stopping behind an SUV. "What about you? Any pets?"

Waverly shakes her head. "Oh no, never."

The Earps never had enough money for themselves, always living day to day, paycheck to paycheck. When she was eleven, the boiler in the basement and broken down of after years of use and the only way she and her sisters could stay warm was to huddle together in the same tiny beds; staying at Aunt Gus' apartment above Shorty's when the weather was extremely cold while Ward and Uncle Curtis worked tirelessly trying to fix it with what they knew.

So, a pet, whether it'd be a cat, a dog, or even a goldfish, would have never worked out.

"Pets weren't really something we were able to afford," The omega says. "Not for lack of wishing, mind you."

"Well maybe this weekend, you'll go home with a furry little friend of your own?"

"What?" She sputters. "Oh no, no, no, t-that's unnecessary."

"Probably." Nicole's voice is casual and light, even as they reach the wrought iron gates of Remus Pointe. Stopping behind an obnoxiously large yellow Hummer. Opening her wallet and passing her ID over to the guard at the entrance when it's her turn.

And just like before, the guard barely regards Waverly with so much as a disdainful look. She sinks further into the passenger's seat. Relieved when they’re let through.

When they arrive at Nicole's mansion, Waverly, reminded of where she is, is taken aback by the sheer size of it. Her cherry red Jeep sitting beside the alpha's Rolls Royce. Bright and incredibly colorful, it looks out of place compared to the rest of the mansion's black and white aesthetic. Massive, Waverly can only wonder how many rooms are in the house in total, how many are dedicated to working, to living, or to pleasure.

Maybe there is a playroom somewhere that is dedicated to actual entertainment and not sex.

But as she steps foot into the foyer, Nicole's back to her while she turns on the security system, she takes another look around. This time feeling a bit richer with bags full of expensive clothing in her hands. She doesn't feel as small as she did before, of course, she's not on the same level as Nicole or anyone else she's met in this new world. But, she feels exponentially bigger.

“You know," Nicole starts, turning around. "I've noticed that you bite your lip a lot when you’re nervous.”

“Oh, really?" She blushes. "I-I hadn’t noticed.”

And then, for some inexplicable reason, possibly the fading remnants of the adrenaline pumping through their veins from the earlier transgression with Champ at Ghost River, the air is electric. The space between them charged and magnetic. Her bottom lip quivers with anticipation, heart pounding uncontrollably against her chest. She bites it.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Sorry I—”

Within seconds, Nicole lunges at her. She isn’t pushed against a wall or one of the pillars forming the archway leading into the living room, instead Nicole’s hands have her in a vice-like grip. Pinning the omega’s small frame against her own, fingers curling hard around the back of her neck and a thumb right over the soft spot over her jugular and beneath her jaw. Roughly taking and claiming her mouth, all teeth and bite; a bruising kiss that leaves Waverly breathless. Moaning.

Waverly closes her eyes, but just as she settles into the alpha’s arms and tastes the slightest bit of pleasure her omega howls for a harsh sting tears them apart. Dazed, she opens her eyes and sees Nicole’s eyes burn crimson. Bright and hypnotic, the dark of her blood on the alpha’s lips illuminating the faint glint of fangs.

“Thirty minutes…” Nicole is breathless, “I want you in the playroom in thirty minutes. No more, no less. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Thirty minutes.

That’s all she was given to get ready and Waverly hurries to her room, not wanting to waste any more time than she already had standing in the middle of the mansion’s foyer, stunned.

Immediately she takes all of her clothes off and jumps into the shower. It takes her a moment to figure out the knobs, still not used to them, before stepping underneath the showerhead. The hot spray of water massaging the tense muscles in her back, loosening them up as they shake in anticipation. This agreement they settled on, to continue the contract for the rest of the week, fully committing to their roles as dominant and submissive with a new, more proactive attitude, leaves Waverly wondering.

What more does the alpha have in store for her?

Would the various items she saw around the playroom be implemented?

Would she feel the sting of a riding crop against her ass?

The harsh metal of a pair of handcuffs digging into her wrists or the leather of a whip snapping along the skin of back?

Good god, she thinks suddenly, punishments?

Waverly would be an absolute liar if she said she never did more to prep beyond looking up the basic terminology for BDSM. It isn’t her proudest moment, but she couldn’t help it: lying awake at night to browse the many different porn sites the internet had to offer for an idea on what BDSM sex looked like.

The number of videos she went through on any given night is mind numbing. Probably setting some sort of sleazy new world record out there. Going through a multitude of categories and tags that seemed endless with how much of a market there is for fetishes ranging from the tame and kinky to downright weird and taboo.

And the sheer number and variety of instruments used in these videos tagged with ‘BDSM’ and ‘dom/subs’ was a bit overwhelming at first. But after several dozen videos, Waverly had come to the point of becoming desensitized. Almost.

There are still a couple of videos that left her slack-jawed in shock and awe.

One of a male omega on their hands and knees, blindfolded, cuffed and bound as they moved against a… What was it called? A fuck machine, perhaps? The device had no other function but to thrust a translucent purple dildo inside of the omega as per the dominant’s wishes. Said dominant controlling the device with a small box, turning the dial that would either increase or decrease the speed at which the machine moved.

The video, twenty-four minutes and thirty-eight seconds long, ultimately ends with the omega twitching and spent on the table they were propped upon. No aftercare was shown.

From there, it took Waverly at least three days before revisiting this researching venture into the unknown world of videos categorized underneath the BDSM banner. Granted, most of the videos she had to mindlessly sift through were more for shock value than to arouse. What was considered dirty talk in these ten to twenty-minute-plus long videos were akin to the harshest forms of degradation she had ever heard in her life.

Her father yelling at the television when the USA beat Canada at ice hockey in the last winter Olympics wasn’t as crude as what was being passed off as “dirty talk” in these videos. Waverly thanks stone-cold resiliency as the one Earp trait she’s glad to have inherited.

Nevertheless, her foray into watching porn of this nature hadn’t been completely sullied by these insane videos. There were a few hidden gems, diamonds really, that she managed to find. They were much longer, far more realistic and most of all, included aftercare.

A video of an alpha/omega pair, both females, standing out amongst the others. The entire performance was a slow build, set to soft music no less. The alpha was so sweet and attentive, even as she was rutting away between the omega’s legs, cooing soft words into their ear.

Jesus, Waverly thinks, pressing her thighs together at the memory.

Her mind starts to drift, from images of the playroom’s dark wine-colored walls and velvet-soft bed, the dimmed lighting and the iron grid mounted on the ceiling. Fingers dancing along her skin, pirouetting up and down her spine. Playing a soft song along the curves of her body, striking up towards a crescendo right where she needs her until finally dissipating with a silent bow. Colors playing behind her eyelids, the room and all it’s dark furniture suddenly melting away like watercolors running down the canvas.

Pooling at the bottom into that of a vibrant green garden; rose bushes as far as the eye can see with a large fountain in the center. Quiet and peaceful, the only sound she hears is that of someone purring. Soft, deep, from the center of the chest and as if on cue, a pair of arms wrap themselves around her middle.

Pulled from her ever-deepening thoughts, she hears her phone go off. Shutting off the shower, Waverly grabs a bathrobe from the bathroom cabinet and exits, finding her phone vibrating upon the arrival of two text messages on her lockscreen.

Both from Wynonna.

The first reads: Dad wants to know if you can get him a lightsaber.

The second: Oh, and he wants to make sure you don’t make any plans on Sunday, family dinner and all that.

Waverly unlocks her phone and types out a quick reply before locking it and finishing up. Just a few days left on her contract and she’ll be back to being the same woman she was before, living the life of ordinary, completely average college student.

At least this time, she’ll have the weight of her college tuition off her back.

With only several minutes left, she quickly pockets the phone and quickly heads downstairs, not wanting to upset Nicole and have the alpha believe she couldn’t follow simple directions.

Although, there is a part of her that is curious to know what disobeying the alpha would lead to. What a punishment by Nicole’s hands would look and feel like. She could certainly go slow, pushing over the allotted time she was given just to find out, but instead, she stands before the black doors of the playroom and knocks. Knuckles rhythmically rapping against the golden embossed triskele insignia, in the center of the triple-spiral symbol because doing so anywhere else seemed a bit blasphemous.

In another scenario, another life probably, this could’ve been considered her walk of shame. Lord knows she’s seen her sisters do it loads of times; walking through the homestead’s front doors in the early morning wearing the same clothes they had on the night before. Willa doing it with far more grace and class than Wynonna. The latter always looking so disheveled even after their father had pleaded several times for her to at least clean up becoming home.

“Bad enough I always have some inkling as to what you’ve done,” he told her once over breakfast. “I don’t want to see the aftermath of it.”

Willa once made a joke about the chances of their father witnessing the aftermath of a one-night stand in the form of a child and that just led to a three-hour lecture about safe sex, condoms, birth control, suppressants and how things were so much simpler back in his day.

Worse still, Waverly has done a few walks of shame herself.

Prom night is one such horrid example.

Coming home as well put together as she possibly could, Waverly just wanted to hop into the shower and go to bed. But her sisters, annoyingly nosy as they are, wanted a run-down of everything that happened once prom was over and everyone moved to the afterparty for all the real fun.

To her credit, she’s able to lie to her sisters about how magical it was with a stupid love-struck smile on her face. Wynonna made a face akin to wanting to vomit, but smiles, believing her words easily.

Willa, on the other hand, is far more observant.

There’s a chance that the eldest Earp sister probably knows or at least has some sort of idea that Waverly was lying about experiencing a wonderful fairytale-like moment the average high schooler dreams of when finally losing their virginity. But she’s never once said anything, and Waverly isn’t about to bring it up either.

Even after graduating and Gus and Curtis hiring her as a part-time waitress at Shorty’s, she was still forced to lie to herself and others when asked about it. Putting on that dreamy, starry-eyed look when having to remember her first time; because you never forget it.

Regaling Chrissy and whoever else asked with a falsified story of how unbelievably perfect everything was. Fireworks exploding in the end like in all the cheesy romantic movies. Boy gets the girl, everyone cheers, all the songs on the radio suddenly make sense—all the things that didn’t happen.

Her virgin deflowering nothing more than a poorly written, half-assed, five-minute amateur porno, than anything Oscar-worthy.

In the quiet of the playroom, still and anxiously numb, Waverly waits patiently.  Because fuck , what else is there to do?

She’s placed the entirety of well-being in a complete stranger for the duration of an entire week on the belief that their contract is as legitimate as they come. That Chrissy, her best friend, having done this before wouldn’t have ever mentioned this to Waverly or have ever taken part in anything like this herself if she thought her safety was in doubt. Safety of her body, her health, her mind—

“You think too much.”

Waverly jumps at the voice. Nicole’s presence is solid behind her, eyes burning holes into the back of her head with enough force she can feel the heat along the nape of her neck. Omega whimpering, head tilted to the side in order to bare her neck. Helplessly falling back when she feels the alpha’s lips brush against her neck softly, the rise and fall of her chest as she greedily takes in her scent.

She whines a little, when Nicole pulls away, before gasping when a thick cloth is placed over her eyes.

A blindfold.

Waverly didn’t think they’d be doing this again. But unlike the first time, she isn’t as nervous. Instead, she furrows her brows and questions as to why they’re using the blindfold again. To which Nicole responds with a single touch to the middle of her back, fingertips pressing hard into her lower pack and forcing Waverly to stand straighter.

“The first time was to get you used to my touch, through the use of all your other senses.” Nicole runs her fingers up the omega’s spine. “This time, we will do the same except for pleasure.”

“Oh,” is all Waverly can say.

Her palms start to sweat. Clammy and wet, she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. The edge of the bed brushes against her knee and it shocks her. Electricity shooting up her veins as her mind starts to race. The first time was a preliminary round, barely a tutorial.

Now the real test would begin.

“As always, just say the safeword and we’ll stop. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

She shivers. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl,” Nicole says softly pressing a kiss to Waverly’s forehead.

The first thing Nicole does is to stand in front of Waverly, fingertips grazing along the skin beneath the hem of her shirt before trailing over moving lower. The slightest dip of a single digit behind the waistband of her jeans only to pull out and Waverly to then feel both hands lightly running upwards over her body. To her shoulders and then down her arms, a blaze of goosebumps left in their wake before those hands come around her own. Fingers linked together, she swears the alpha can feel her apprehension.

But Nicole doesn’t it make known that she does. Instead, she lowers her head and places another kiss on the omega’s forehead. Then her cheek. Pulling the collar of her shirt open to place another on her bare shoulder. Before finally coming back up and kissing the side of her mouth. Each one featherlight and ghost to the touch.

“Kiss me.”

Waverly, licks her lips and before she tentatively presses them against the alpha. It’s small, not sure what kind of kiss Nicole wants or even if she should take the initiative and lead, but she tries. Heart racing, beating against the drums of her ears, for a single minute Waverly can’t breathe. Pulling away desperate and fearful, she turns her head from Nicole.

“W-Wait,” she says. “I don’t think I can do this. I-I can’t—”

Hands grip either side of her face and pull her forward into a bruising kiss. Harsh for a moment before softening. Warm, full lips breathing life just as easy as they take the breath from her lungs.

“You’re thinking too much baby,” the alpha whispers. “Turn your brain off, okay?”

Another kiss. “Turn it off, you must be so tired.”

The omega whimpers. So much.

Nicole motions for one more kiss and this time, Waverly responds wholeheartedly; surprising herself and maybe Nicole as well. The caress of her lips fitting with the alpha in a way she had never known before. The warmth she finds is spellbinding and to chase after it, she tastes with the tiniest bit of her tongue as she can manage. Nicole opens her mouth with a low moan, to let her in.

They continue kissing, doing so as easy as it is to breathe. Stopping only when Nicole grabs the hem of Waverly’s shirt and pulls it over the omega’s head. Waverly gasps at the rush of cool air hitting her now bare chest. But she doesn’t stop there. Her bra is snapped open and the straps are slid off her arms and then thrown somewhere beside them. Next, Nicole undoes the button of her jeans and peels them off, along with her panties, until she is left naked and bare. Only centimeters away from the alpha.

Her knees start to shake, curling her shoulders inward. If Waverly could, she would stare down at her feet. But with the blindfold and the lack of response and motion from the alpha, she is left unnerved by the familiar thoughts that plague her mind.

Waverly Earp, for the harsh words said by the voice in the back of her head and the numbing experiences of the past, is resigned to believe that she isn’t beautiful. Not even a word, synonymous but smaller in design as pretty or cute could be attributed to her.

Her legs, slender and toned from years of constant work, left much to be desired in comparison to others. All hard muscle and little softness, far from the stereotypical omega form she was expected to have. And when her body started to change around the age of thirteen, she took notice of how different she looked compared to the girls around her. They had big full hips that wrapped down around smooth thighs, their chests full, heavy over dainty waists, leaving many to gaze and lust after. Their popularity and worth seemingly tied to how physically attractive others considered them to be. On how suitors, of either breed, would fantasize and fight over the opportunity to stand within their presence.

Waverly remembers how often in the locker room, before and after cheerleading practice and home games, her teammates would gossip about their latest conquest. Comparing notes and discussing their experiences with sex far more enthusiastically than with their schoolwork. While the omega sat back, keeping herself occupied chatting with Chrissy about whatever nonsense to keep from looking down at her own body in disappointment.

“I want you to talk freely.” Waverly snaps her head up in the alpha’s direction, straight ahead.Waverly bites her lip. “S-Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.”

“And scared.”

Waverly doesn’t say a word and fiddles with her fingers. Nicole cups her chin and tilts her head upwards, nose to the ceiling. “Keep your head up, baby; there’s nothing for you to feel ashamed about.”

Nicole’s lips brush against her jaw, down to her neck. Kissing and licking, sucking a bruise against her pulse that skyrockets her heart into a furious climb. The blood vessels burst, blossoming into a deep, purplish color that leaves the omega whining from the lack of blood being drawn. Nicole leaves several more across her neck and along her collarbone, finishing up with pressing her nose against Waverly’s chest and inhaling her scent. The moan she lets out, pulling away once she’s had her fill, is breathless and greedy.

The alpha wants more, growling impatiently.

She senses the bed dip. Nicole, no longer standing in front of her, sits on the edge of the bed and pulls Waverly closer. Thighs pressing tightly on either side of the omega’s legs, keeping her there. Nicole’s hands settle on her waist, the pads of her fingers rubbing circles into the skin.

“You shouldn’t be so critical of yourself, we all have our flaws, things we’re insecure about, but that doesn’t mean you are any less of a person for them.”

Nicole clears her throat, “Your ex-boyfriend, Chump, is it?”

Waverly shakes her head and smiles, “It’s Champ Hardy.”

“Close enough,” there’s a playful tone to Nicole’s voice, aided by the soft caress on her hips. But then it becomes serious with a twinge of revulsion. “He was your first, wasn’t he?”

Nicole continues. “You lost your virginity to him?”

Waverly nods.

“What did he do?”

She furrows her brows, not understanding what Nicole was getting at. “Say it.”

“H-He, he didn’t care. He just wanted to be like the alphas on the football team, he wanted to be popular. At least for a little while until graduation.”

“And how did he touch you?”

Waverly shakes her head, balling her hands into fists at her sides, not wanting to take herself back to that night. Preferring to take solace in the fact that no one knows of how desperately she jumped into the shower afterward to wash every single reminder of it from her body. Scrubbing hard against her skin to remove the memory of Champ’s clumsy hands touching her in the back seat of the limo to the way they pawed her skin at his house, in an effort to find some sort of peace.

Because God, did she scrub. Until her skin was raw, reddened and blotchy, determined to forget. A rinse and repeat of washing and scrubbing until her hands started to hurt from holding on to the loofah too hard. The hot water stinging the sensitive skin with a hiss, reminding her that she would never forget.

Nicole holds her tighter. Tell me, please?

“Champ was… He, he was clumsy. Rough.”

“Did you tell him no?”

Waverly shakes her head. “I wanted it, I thought I was ready for it.”

“But he wasn’t, and in his bid to be one of the cool kids, he sacrificed your comfort and peace of mind. Ruined your first time and made you believe that you were at fault.”

“In fact,” Nicole pauses for a second before suddenly, the blindfold is no more. “You weren’t blindfolded then, so you won’t be today.”

Waverly blinks several times, getting used to the dim lighting of the playroom. Shaken by the way Nicole sits perfectly still on the bed, watching her with cautious eyes. The light in her golden irises fading the same way the sun sets, disappearing past the horizon and leaving a cold blackness in place of the heat it takes with it. But in the darkness, her honey-golden eyes are lined with an unrepentantly harsh, vibrant shade of red.

Eyes alight with curiosity, Waverly reaches out to touch the alpha. Hand caressing her cheek, thumb softly rubbing the skin beneath her eye, running over the small beauty mark at the corner. Alpha leaning into the omega’s touch, softly purring.

She licks her lips and without thinking, Waverly leans forward and gives Nicole the lightest of kisses. Her entire body put on edge as a sudden wave of alarm hits her when there’s no response. Cheeks flushed red in embarrassment, ready to pull away and berate herself for taking a step too far and breaking protocol until a warm hand slides into her hair to keep her still. An iron grip, as though Nicole was afraid she’d slip through her fingers.

The kiss is soft, intoxicating, tasting of vanilla dipped donuts and Waverly, unabashedly, wants more. Readily parting her lips when she feels a pink tongue instantly searches out hers. Slice and clever, a rush of heat blossoming in the heart of her chest. Breaking away when a hand slithers up her thighs. A finger teasing her folds, pad circling her clit with tentative strokes. Each one shooting sparks of electricity through the omega’s veins. In turn, placating and soothing every spark, Nicole kisses her way up Waverly’s stomach. Ending her ascent by closing around a stiff nipple. Waverly goes rigid, a shiver running down her spine when she feels teeth, sharp and rough against the tender bud. Teasing and tugging, a litany of moans pulled from Waverly’s throat.

Swollen and raw from Nicole’s attention, she is soothed only by the alpha’s tongue with tender care. That is until she resumes the same actions with her other nipple. Waverly runs her fingers into Nicole’s silky hair, tightening her hold as she feels a single digit slip inside. Just the tip, moving deeper slowly. A promise of what is took come soon.

Nicole releases Waverly’s nipple with an audible pop. Goosebumps prickling along the omega’s arms as she feels the alpha slide her free hand down her back and to her waist, Nicole’s own lips following suit. Leaving a trail of kisses down her stomach, each one lighting a fuse and feeding the fire burning under her skin. Suddenly, her back is against the bed.

Sinking into the soft mattress beneath her, Waverly instinctively grabs hold of the first thing she can reach, the pillows and the velvet bed sheets, to stay grounded. But the feeling of being secure and stabilized is short-lived, the alpha grabbing her by the waist and flipping the omega onto her belly. Leaving her on an edge and to float aimlessly.

Positioned on hands and knees, Waverly shudders. She turns her head to glimpse at Nicole through the curtain of her hair. Still clothed, clad in a simple black bra and jeans, the omega in her huffs. The thought of being the one to undress the alpha the way she had done to her is tempting, so much so, a tremor is unleashed within her fingers that can only be stopped by balling her hands into fists.

The bed dips with the added weight of Nicole joining her. Kneeling behind her, mirroring her position on the large bed. One hand gracefully glides its way up Waverly’s backside to her to the middle of her shoulders, pushing down gently while the other settles against her waist and raising her hips. Upper body lying flat against the bed while her ass is propped up into the air akin to a precious offering, Waverly shivers. Tenderly, Nicole kisses her inner thighs in a show of supple devotion as though every part of her body deserved the same attention; each kiss pulling her legs apart until Waverly can feel Nicole’s hot breath against her sex.

In anticipation, her breath hitches. Holding the air within her lungs for a brief moment before caving in with a gasp. Nicole’s tongue, wet and skillful, licks at her folds tentatively. Torturously slow, flattening the length of it against her core with long broad swipes while the tip teases clit maddeningly.

“Oh fuck,” Waverly arches her back, gripping the bed sheets tightly.

Nicole continues. A litany of whines and whimpers are pulled from Waverly’s throat, escaping from her mouth in this high-pitched sound that could only be referred to as that ‘fake pornstar moan’. A sound that encompasses all the audio of an impossibly perverse and graphic adult film that grates on the ears of the average, decent human being.

“Mmmmh…” She lets out a moan, deep from the pit of her stomach and center of her chest, a sound that is incredibly foreign to her own ears.

“That’s it, baby, let it all out.” A symphony is written into her walls. Musical notes and lyrics painting her all over until there isn’t an inch of skin left unmarked.

Waverly pants. Nails clawing at the sheets until she’s sure the fabric comes apart beneath them. That is until Nicole becomes distant, a look of shock forms on Waverly’s face when a quick slap is ushered against her ass.

Waverly’s mouth falls open, “Daddy!”

The sudden sting makes Waverly gasp, rocking forward to change into a position that best soothes the pain there. But Nicole’s hand kneads the reddening flesh, the sensitive, rounded curve just before joining cheek and thigh.

“A reminder: don’t be so complacent with what you are given.”

Adrenaline surges, seizing up into a strange mix of anxiety and expectancy.

A fingertip moves upwards, teasing the rim of her hole. “Every single part of you is deserving. Only a fool would not understand that.”

Waverly squeezes her eyes shut and bites her lip, the fire bubbling at the pit of her stomach sizzles. She feels her mouth go hollow and her own arousal trickling down her thighs.

“Oh, dear god,” The omega bucks against the alpha’s hand.

She grits her teeth, pulling on the silk bed sheets, fingernails digging roughly into her palms with every circular motion against her hole. Tongue pushing against rim and muscle, quivering at every gentle touch until— “Fuck!” —it blooms. The tip of Nicole’s tongue breaking through the bundles of nerves, thrusting inward until the rest follows.

Filling Waverly with an intense pleasure, heightened by the pad of Nicole’s thumb rubbing her clit with a speed unmatched by anything she could ever dream of in her wildest fantasies. Waverly’s thighs start to shake, quivering with the impending orgasm that would soon rattle her to the core.

“Don’t come.”

Waverly turns her head, confused. “I-I’m sorry?”

“Hold it, whatever you do don’t come until I tell you to.”

Waverly opens her mouth to question as to how on earth she’s supposed to do that, but the words die in her throat when she feels Nicole’s tongue on her clit again.

Waverly groans, Nicole thrusting her thumb up to the hilt into her ass while her tongue explores her wet cunt. She moves, shifting her weight from one elbow to the other, one knee to the other to keep from coming, stretching her legs she comes into contact with something rough against the sole of her foot.

The material is rough, hard, the underside of her toes touch upon a seam. Nudging against it, there’s a flap and beneath it, metal teeth. Her brows join together until she realizes that she has her foot against the alpha’s jeans. And by proxy, her cock.

Nicole grunts, but doesn’t reveal any displeasure and Waverly presses forward.

She vibrates eagerly. Running her foot against the thick bulge between the alpha’s legs. Nicole had said to never be complacent with what she is given, in turn, she ought to take and demand more. And what more could she possibly want at this moment than to make the alpha feel just as good as she does?

Moving her foot lower between them, the sole brushes along Nicole’s covered cock and through the denim, she can feel it twitch.

“Remember, you are not to come until I say so.”

“Can I have a reason, then?” For the second time, Waverly is daring. “I’ll do much better with an incentive.”

Nicole smiles.

The alpha rises from the bed with quiet grace, there’s the unclipping of a bra, followed by the unzipping of jeans. Rejoining them on the bed, the omega purrs, molding its body against the alpha. Back to chest, skin to skin, her veins burn white-hot in the coolness of the room. The flash of electricity sparking along the surface of skin like firecrackers with every subtle movement of her shoulder blades against Nicole’s nipples.

Waverly is rewarded with a groan. Eager for another, she slides her hand up Nicole’s thigh and—

Oh.

Nicole gasps at the first touch to her cock.

Waverly pauses for a brief moment, ready to pull back. However, despite the momentary lapse in bravery, she marches forward. Teasing the head with delicate fingertips, the pad of her thumb swiping over the slit. A drop of precome beading at the tip. Curling her hand around the head, Waverly works her way down the throbbing shaft; a bolt lightning strikes and connects them together.

There is the soft touch of a finger pad against Waverly’s folds before she’s being pushed into again with a long, slender finger.

“Ah!—” she struggles to maintain a firm hold but Nicole’s finger slides in up to the knuckle and Waverly shudders.

There is a hiss when a second finger joins the first. Moving up and down, sliding against each other inside of her. Wet sounds, that would be considered obscene with any other, are musical. Filling the playroom and bouncing off its walls wonderfully, a composition by Beethoven would pale in comparison.

Nicole’s fingers curl.

“Jesus…” Teeth clacking together tightly, Waverly throws her head back against Nicole’s shoulder and sucks in a sharp breath. She almost loses her hold on the alpha but continues moving her hand up and down the shaft, twisting her wrist the end of each stroke.

There’s a rumble in the alpha’s chest and the omega teases with featherlight touches against the hard surface until the trail of skin ends in cold metal. The beginnings of a knot swelling behind it.

“Don’t,” Nicole growls, snapping her teeth against Waverly’s throat.

But the omega isn’t deterred. If anything, defiantly, she lingers around the cock ring. Thumbing the silver loop, nudging it for an opening.

And that is the crux of the omega’s disobedience, for Nicole’s fingers pull out with a soft wet pop and her body tenses considerably. Waverly purrs, a sly smile forming on her lips as she fits a nail into the small space between skin and metal.

The alpha’s knot throbs, emanating a strong wave of heat and the omega whimpers. Pushing up hard against her, desperately mewling for whatever barrier between them to be removed. For Nicole to stop resisting and just give in.

Waverly tugs at the ring, loosening the vice.

Nicole growls and is met with one in response from the omega; teeth bared, frustrated and irritated.

“I said don’t.” Nicole snarls.

“Whatever ever happen to not be so complacent?” Waverly barks in an unfamiliar voice.

There is a snap of teeth and swiftly, the omega is back on all fours. Her breath flurries out in a hot cloud, dissipating into the air before she feels Nicole move behind her. There is rustling, followed by the sound of a wrapper tearing, the omega huffs at the use of a condom.

Waverly’s face shifts into a bemused, slack-mouthed gasp as she feels the head of Nicole’s cock against her opening. Slowly undoing every single nerve lining her body with each stroke, up and down, along her slit.

Heat spreads from her stomach and across the wide expanse of her skin, burning through her veins like a forest fire consumes everything in its path. The head ignites the furious flames with a quick flash; slipping in inch by slow, torturous inch. The unrelenting hardness penetrating with the most unimaginable pressure, fuck it’s too much!

Waverly grits her teeth, pulling at the silk sheets and balling her hands into fists until her nails bite into her palms.

Waverly bites her lip, brows furrowed together, body shaking as another inch slips further inside.

Face pressed into the bed, Waverly twists her neck towards the ceiling to see Nicole’s face rapt in concentration; hands on the omega’s hips and slowly pushing against them. The sight fuels the fire in her stomach, melting her insides in a furious wave of white hot heat. Nicole grunts and readjusts her position behind her.

A bead of sweat spills from Waverly’s temple, the alpha reaches deeper and the omega pants. Tears brimming at the corner of her eyes once she feels the cold metal of the cock ring. She squeezes her eyes shut as her body is overcome with a shudder; her walls quiver around the alpha. Unable to keep herself in control for much longer. Nicole leans over and settles against her until she’s lying flat on the bed, ass in the air and the solid weight of Nicole’s body fully on top of her.

“I’m here, baby,” Nicole whispers behind Waverly’s ear, arms snaking around her own while she starts to move her hips. “I’m right here, you’re not alone.”

Wave after wave of pleasure, building slowly at the pit of her stomach, rocks Waverly into a steady pace. Each thrust, each motion forward, pushes her higher into the air. Ascending quietly with nothing but the sounds of moans aiding her flight and the anchor that is their hands laced together keeping her tethered to the earth. The air rises beneath her and for a single moment, Waverly swears she can fly.

Nicole’s breath is hot against her ear, teeth nipping at her lobe and tongue slick against the shell. Gradually, the alpha picks up speed and Waverly grits her teeth in response. Tightly wound, a bomb ticks away in the center of her chest waiting to explode. Waiting for Nicole to finally give her fucking permission.

The omega lets out a high-pitched whine, the sweat crowning her head, a sign of how desperate she’s become. Frantic, she claws the back of Nicole’s hands and buries her face into the bed.

Baring her neck completely the omega cries out, and the alpha nuzzles against it.

Nicole slips a hand between Waverly’s legs and rubs her clit feverishly. Wracked with shocks, bolts of lightning sporadically striking down against her nerves, Waverly loses her voice. Molten hot lava boiling blood to a tipping point and scorching the entirety of her body until there’s nothing but a blinding flash behind her eyes.

Rutting wildly behind her, grunting in a dark voice, Nicole lets out a breathless moan. “Come for me, baby…”

Beneath the furious patchwork of electricity and fire consuming her body whole, a blinding series of stars coloring her vision in a flash of white light and the amount of air rushing from her lungs, Waverly finds her a voice. A cry, akin to a shout , a scream, shaking her down to the marrow of her bones.

The high sends her soaring past the clouds until she’s broken through the sound barrier and her body is nothing but a collection of stardust dancing together. She drifts back to earth with heavy-lidded eyes and boneless limbs, unable to whine when Nicole pulls away. Exhaustion taking hold, followed by sleep close on its heels.

“D-Daddy… wait…” She tries, but Nicole quiets her with a soothing touch to her back, fingers rubbing what Waverly, at first thought, assumes to be soft circles into her shoulder blades.

“Shhh, baby.” Her fingertips spell something out along the surface of her sweat slicked skin. When her eyes close, every aspect of the waking world falling away she can still feel the letters being written into her skin.

M-I-N-E.