Teaching Their Omega novel · Chapter 9 of 24
Chapter 9: Rhett's Lesson
I slid out from under Declan's sleeping arm and stood up naked in the lamplight.
"Come with me," I said to Rhett.
He looked at me from the pillow.
"Where?"
"Your room. You're up next."
"Lowen, it's late. I'm fine."
"You're a terrible liar. Get up."
He got up.
His room was at the end of the hall.
It held a plain bed, a gun cabinet he never opened, and one shelf of paperbacks with cracked spines.
I switched on the lamp and took the green silk scarf off my neck.
I had been carrying it all day in my tote.
"Lie down on your back," I said. "Put your hands over your head."
Rhett stared at the scarf, and then at me.
"What's that for?"
"Lesson five. You're going to learn to hold still."
"Hold still?" He gave a short laugh. "I'm not good at that."
"I know. That's why."
He lay down.
He stretched out across the wide bed, naked and huge, with his chest still flushed from the earlier round.
He lifted his wrists over his head.
I bound them to the iron bars of the headboard.
I looped the silk twice and tied it in a knot that would hold, and not tight enough to hurt.
I tugged it once.
He pulled against it, testing, and his cock, which had been half soft, hardened visibly against his stomach.
"Oh," he said, surprised. "Huh."
"Good?"
"Weird. Good."
I climbed onto the bed and knelt between his thighs.
I trailed my fingers down the inside of his leg, from the knee up, slowly, and watched the muscle jump.
"You're going to tell me when you're close," I said. "Every time. And I'm going to stop."
"Stop?"
"Every time. You don't come until I say."
His mouth dropped open.
"That's cruel," he said.
"That's teaching."
I took his cock in my hand.
I stroked it, long and slow, from the base to the tip, with my thumb across the head.
Rhett groaned and let his head fall back.
"Lowen."
"Eyes on me."
He looked down his body at me.
His hazel eyes were dark and wet, and his hair had come loose around his shoulders.
"Why do you laugh?" I asked.
"What?"
"You laugh at everything. Why?"
"It's... I don't know. It's how I am."
"No, it isn't. Tell me."
I stroked him faster.
His hips twitched, helpless, against the silk that held his arms.
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