She stays at his place every night for almost a week.
It’s heaven, mostly— but also hell. Because his entire apartment smells like both of them, and she finally smells like him, and it’s just this side of too much for him, letting her leave for the day without f*****g her senseless first. Sometimes he can’t help himself, and she stumbles out of his—their— bedroom, dazed and smiling and sated and smelling like a well f****d Omega. Like his Omega.
It occurs to him, one evening, that it’s usually a desperate frenzy when he ends up between her legs. That Alpha part of him takes over, and the next thing he knows, she’s on her tummy or her back, or best of all, on top of him, making those noises that he adores as her slick coats him. She never complains, but sometimes he wonders if he’s not
