1. Imminent Descent
Zuri
I don’t know how I got here, truly. One moment I was sitting beside my friend and the next she was pressing kisses to my throat, and I was laying across the bed. I’d never given thought to the precariously tempting position she and I had kept for years. Even after she presented, after I presented, our habits and dynamics never changed.
But somehow, tonight, everything is shifting. Nothing is going to be the same after this. That knowledge hangs around us heavily, a blanket of charged air.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” Ara says. The words get sighed against my overly sensitive neck, like prayer, “like sex and everything I count as mine.”
In our twenty-some year friendship, I’ve never heard Ara talk about me so possessively. It’s thrilling. It makes a zing of arousal rip through me. Somehow it’s headier than even her pheromones that are drowning me.
I’d like to say I know my body well. It’s been mine for thirty years. I’ve explored myself. I know myself sexually and can listen to the signs my body gives.
But Ara is shattering everything I thought I knew.
We’re barely touching. Her hands flutter over my waist, her body pressed to my side. It’s no more scandalous than my first forays into physical intimacy. Yet my nipples and clit are throbbing, begging for attention. My face and neck feel flush, my pheromone glands are tingling incessantly like they had during my heats, when I allowed them to come naturally.
Turning toward Ara, I let my lips drag along her jaw, mapping it out. Her hero’s jawline and strong nose highlight the unexpectedly delicate bone structure of Ara Jade. But it all combines into a beautiful package for an equally beautiful soul.
Truthfully, people have to be blind to not see that Ara’s not merely pretty. For the record, I’m not. I’ve known for ages my best friend is gorgeous. She’s not hyper-feminine like some Alphas can be. Nor is she one of those hyper-masculine Alphas who obsess with the visual of bodily strength.
Ara Jade has freckles. She sports a healthy glow on her cool fawn brown skin. Showcasing a body that is neither too soft nor too hard, nor overtly ambiguous. Her belly curves, waist dipping when looked at from the front. Her hips, though not strictly fashionable, lead to sturdy thighs and a distracting full rump. Distracting me in a fairly new fashion.
New, in that I’d only recently looked at her without a purely aesthetic filter to my gaze.
“Ara,” I sigh, finding her lips with my own. Of the two of us–Ara is the extrovert. I’ve never been chatty, but there are words building up on my tongue right now. “What’re you doin’ to me?”
My thoughts are a riot of filth that would shock me if I weren’t agonizing over how to tell her.
The ends of her locs are coming loose from her bun as we kiss, brushing over my face. The scent of her hair oils mixes into her personal aroma and I feel like my mind is trying to shut down and shift into overdrive simultaneously. I feel the need to categorize how she feels, every single detail that makes up Ara Jade Matthews. It’s a mysterious drive to analyze just how soft her lips are, and how well her mouth fits when she slants it against mine.
Her lips taste of the wine we’d drank earlier. Coming long before we started the movie that is now well forgotten. It’s sweet, contrasting nicely with the sharp musk of her scent. Slipping my tongue against her lips is done with little thought, but I revel in the way she groans when our tongues meet. It’s inelegant, the way we kiss as we learn how to fit together.
Ara’s fingers dig into my waist before sweeping up my sides. Her nails-meticulously kept- snag on the hem of my top. Those same nails rasp lightly over my skin before her palms settle on my abdomen. It’s a barely there touch, like she can’t decide if she should do it or not.
It’s interesting to see her so shy. My breath stutters when she pulls away from the kiss, eyes fluttering open to see her lashes resting against glossy wine-pink cheeks. Leaning into her hands is as instinctive as the kiss was; I want her skin against mine. I need her to touch me.
“So shy,” I murmur, bumping her nose with mine. “After you said I smell like sex and everything that’s yours, too. It’s just me, Ara. Just your Maya, same as ever.”
Wanting to feel closer, to be closer, I angle my body against hers. It’s no surprise to feel her clitoris throb against my hip. Ara and I rarely talk about sex, and I’ve never been with an Alpha woman. It’s my first time feeling this. Another zing of arousal hits me, settling in my stomach. It leaves heat blooming through my core while my pussy contracts and clit throbs. I can feel slick slipping from between my lips as I watch Ara’s nostrils flare.
“Maya,” she says, my name said with a reverence I’m unfamiliar with. “This. You don’t get it.”
“What don’t I get?” I ask, moving restlessly, hissing when my nipples run against her breasts. “Tell me. You can tell me anything.”
Her eyes snap open, the otherworldly gray of her eyes darkened to slate. A low, menacing sound leaves my friend’s lips. I should cower, bare my neck and present my stomach to her. But that instinct is barely a blip on my radar.
Even when she’s manipulating our positions, pushing me into the plus duvet of her bed, there’s no fear racing along my nerves. Her teeth are bright as she bares them, pearly white with dangerously sharp canines.
“Tell you anything?” I can tell it’s not a question, even if she poses it as one. “Maya, I want you violently. I want my teeth in your gland, to suck on all your soft, needy places until you can’t tell up from down. I want to drown you in my scent, to smother you in it until your body imprints. My fuckin—my brain keeps this idea from when we were sneaking those dirty mags. The horror story of Omegas kept in thrall by their Alphas. You remember those? That’s how I’d leave you.”
I gulp, clearing my mouth of saliva. I remember those articles; and how our health classes, designed to scare the shit out of us rather than give us a proper understanding of sex. It’s less terrifying now than it had been when I was a teen. Because it’s not just Alphas who can hold someone in thrall. Omegas can do it too. The stories are rarer, but out there if you know where to look.
“You wouldn’t,” I reply, confidence seeping from me abnormally. “Not really.”
“You’re pussy blind,” she says, words snapping with her irritation. “Got your nipples are hard, face all flush, I can smell your slick–you ain’t thinkin’ straight. You’d let me do it, Maya. Let me mount you, ride your cunt until you were crying, knotting you up, filling you with cum.”
“So?” I interrupt whilst bucking up against her. “I could enthrall you, too, Ara. You’re talkin’ like your clit isn’t swelling, like you’re not ready to knot me until I yield. I’ll let you try to tame me, but babe, I’ll drain you dry first.”
My shirt rips as she pulls it off me. The air is a little cool, but not unbearable. Her face morphs from irritation to something like angry lust as she gives me a once over. I didn’t bother with a bra today, knowing we weren’t going anywhere or doing shit.
“Look at those tits,” she says, voice low, while her hands settle into the bed on either side of me. “All puffy nips and such pretty brown areolas. Perfect.” Her eyes flick to mine as she leans down, stopping when she’s at a distance where she can let her tongue caress them. “Feed one to me.”
I swallow a laugh, smirking as I arch up, left hand shifting to take hold and present the left breast to her. Her lips brush against the peak, and I shudder. Ara mouths at me, not biting, not sucking, just teasing.
“Ara–suck.” The demand is a little shocking. I rarely stray toward power bottom territory.
I decide I’ll be shocked and whatever later, when her mouth engulfs my nipple and areola. Light suction makes me sigh. Her teeth flirt with my skin as she draws away. Ara returns within seconds, tongue swiping over me this time. That devilish mouth applies just enough suction to make me moan. It’s good—especially when she snags my nipple with her teeth. But she’s not touching me anywhere else.
Her legs are bracketing mine, close enough to feel the heat of her body, but not touching. She’s kept her hands buried in the duvet. A few of her locs brush against me, but that’s it.
I hate it. The omega in me loathes it. When Ara talked about forcing me to imprint—the omega was practically purring.
“Touch me,” I breathe out, free hand lifting to brush against Ara’s stomach. “Or all you all talk? Threatening me, but now you’re all respectful n’ shit—I should leave.”
Ara bites me, hard enough to make me squeal, edging up on breaking the skin. The release of abused flesh has me squirming, glaring at her. She’s got a look on her face I’ve never seen. It’s extremely difficult to decipher.
Her hand on mine surprises me. One guides the other until she’s manipulating me into pinching and plucking at my nipple. She releases me, letting her hand hover for a moment.
“Don’t stop until I tell you to,” she says in warning, leaning back once I’ve nodded. Her shirt’s ripped over her head; flung to parts unknown. She lifts onto her knees, shoving her bottoms down around her thighs, panties taken right along with them.
Ara gifts me a glance at her clit, bulging from between her lips, twitching and growing while I watch. She has a close-cropped triangle of curls. Her scent barrels over me, figuratively knocking my head back.
Clean, crisp like a fresh winter snowstorm, dark and heady with something that demands my attention. A thread of natural seduction that calls to my body; urges it to heat.
A crack sounds in the room right as a stinging sensation makes me snarl. One of Ara’s hands hovers right above the waistline of my tap-pants. Her eyes are icy when mine find hers again.
“Keep playing with that nip, Maya. Use your other hand to get your pussy out.” Ara makes her demands smoothly, voice like velvet.
It’s annoyingly clumsy to take off my tap pants with one hand. I manage to miss my panties completely in the process, with more focus on getting my legs free to remove the pants. My thumb hooks under the elastic to remove that last barrier, but Ara’s touch stops me.
Her thumb presses against the gusset of my blue lace briefs. I’d forgotten I’d worn anything vaguely fancy. The tease of her skin on mine has me drawing my knees back down near my shoulders, fingers dutifully torturing my flesh still. The position lets me see her.
A dark wine blue sits high on her cheekbones, her eyes sit rivetted to my pussy. She lazily drags her thumb over the gusset again, and I can feel myself part, flowering open beneath the slight pressure. A groan fills the room, originating from my dearest friend.
Ara Jade’s parted lips glisten, her chest rises and falls with strained breaths. Her arousal hangs over me like a blanket, and I’m positive mine is doing the same for her. She rubs at the top of my pussy, locating my clit.
“Fuck, I can feel how wet you already are. And your clit…” She trails off, abruptly hooking her fingers into the fabric to move it aside. It tears instead. I can’t bring myself to give a damn when I see her hips jerk, hand falling to her lap, fingers no doubt curling around her emerging clit.
“You’re all swollen, so ready, it looks so fucking suckable.” Ara says, voice rough as her thumb ghosts over my lips, tracing over my clit. “Pink and soaked, you like me talking to you, you’re twitching, those lips.”
“Stop looking and do something,” I reply hotly, hoping my face isn’t as red as it feels. She’s not wrong. I really enjoy her talking to me. But I want to get on with it, to fucking orgasm sometime tonight.
“Ask nicely,” Ara teases, shifting to kneel before me. If I let my legs down, she’d fit between them. “You want me to play with that breedhole? You ask for it, Maya.”
She pauses, eyes sweeping over me. Her gaze is heavy. I feel it like a caress, silently hoping her touch will land as heavily once she deigns give it to me.
“Ara, c’mon, touch me.” Amid all this intensity, playfulness rears its head, a bratty, demanding playfulness. “I’ve been good; I’m doing what you want, just fucking touch me.”
Ara pinches me, the bitch. Her free hand shoots out, dangerously close to my pussy lips, to bite into the meat of my thigh. Squealing, I drop my legs, glaring as I shove myself into a half-sitting position.
“Ara Jade.”
“Maya Queeny,” Ara growls and the hair on the back of my neck stands up. “Ask for what you want.”
That playfulness that reared its head dies a quiet, swift. I lick my lips, and scoot forward, leaning in, reaching out to take hold of Ara by the neck. Giving her a tug forward, I let my lips caress hers. It’s short, deceptively sweet, and out of place.
“Ara, please touch me.” I say, my words soft against her lips. There’s no backing away, no acrobatic displays of myself. Legs splayed on either side of hers, I am exposed. It’s entirely up to Ara if she touches me or not. “Play with me, Alpha, make me cum, stuff my pussy full of your clit. Don’t you want to knot me? Don’t you want to claim my cunt with your cum? I’ll be good for you; I’ll take everything you give me.”
“Fucking hell, Maya.” Ara barely gets the words out before her mouth crashes against mine. We crash back against the bed. Her hands take hold of my legs at the knees, guiding them to wrap around her.
We fit together like puzzle pieces. Her hips settle against mine, her clit fully exposed, thick and weighty, deliciously hot as it presses against my pussy. The pressure is divine, a blessing that lets my mind go blank. Her hips roll, garnering a groan against her lips. It satiates something in me, like that first sip of water on a hot day.
I’m so slick that Ara glides against my lips fluidly. We don’t synch our movements immediately. I’m too keyed up for it. But once the raw edge of the pleasure she gives me evens out, when she rolls forward, I rock to meet her.
Our kissing is messy, all teeth and tongue. There’s a frantic, desperate edge to the way our mouths meet. We’re all frenetic energy. Her hands roaming over my sides and breasts, mind over her back. I’m lost in it, the push-pull of our bodies, the way our scents are mingling in the air. Even the wet sounds of her clit sliding between my lips is arousing.
Her fingers thread into my hair, the curls pulling momentarily only for her to pull at the roots. Not yank, pull, guide. It’s nothing to bare my throat to her. Lips and tongue descend on my pheromone gland, coaxing it to swell and stand so she can suck and nibble at it. The combination of it all pushes me over the edge.
Bliss sears through me. I can’t see, can’t hear, distantly feeling her touch beyond the tsunami of euphoria that pulls me under.riting here…
