Knot the Witch Next Door (Knotty Streak Omegaverse #3.5)

CHAPTER THREE – Carmilla

I barely managed to fix my mom her tea before I excused myself to the bathroom and ran upstairs to my en suite. Somewhere along the way, my hat fell off, but I didn’t care. My legs shook as I stripped off my black leggings and panties. They were soaked with slick, and it continued to trickle down my thighs as I attempted to dry myself.

I was in heat.

Deacon Graves had triggered my heat.

The brother of my best friend, the extremely hot Alpha I grew up next door to was compatible with me. Rosemary would flip. And what did Deacon think? He had to know. We were taught Alphas felt when they were compatible with an Omega too.

Yet he hadn’t said anything. And he left quickly.

Damn. Did he still see me as his little sister’s weird best friend? Surely a hunk like Deacon wouldn’t be interested in the odd girl who had dared him to eat a worm.

Yet my slick hadn’t stopped flowing, and as I cleaned myself, I quivered with pleasure. This was bad. I might be able to hide it for a few days, but if I didn’t have an Alpha to help me, I was going to be in a lot of pain. And it couldn’t just be any Alpha. He had to be compatible.

Like Deacon.

I set the towel on the lip of the tub and fumbled with my makeup bag on the counter, digging out a little device that looked very much like a designer tube of lipstick. I whipped off the lid and pressed the button to turn it on. Its hum was nearly silent and its tiny cock’s head vibrated with the promise of relief.

The toy was nowhere near the size of what I guessed Deacon’s dick to be, and it probably wasn’t even as big as one of his fingers. Yet maybe the tip of his tongue, and oh fuck, that’s what I imagined as I sat on the towel with my legs spread. I gasped as I pressed the vibrator to my clit and nearly lost my balance with how hypersensitive I was already.

My pussy twitched and the inner muscles tightened. I moaned, needing his touch, his mouth on mine, his big cock slamming into me. His knot would swell and lock us together.

I panted, bending forward as I circled the vibrator around my swollen clit. Would Deacon be gentle or go wild like a wolfman? I wanted both. I wanted all of him.

Biting my tongue, I muffled my cry as my orgasm hit. My legs squeezed the cool edges of the tub as my slick gushed out. Never had I come so quickly and never without a dark and steamy romance book in my other hand.

I’d just found a compatible Alpha and gone into heat. The first hour hadn’t even gone by, and it was this intense. What did that mean for the rest of my heat?

Pressing my forehead against the tiled wall, I waited for my heart to slow and for my legs to be able to hold me as I stood. I cleaned myself and my vibrator off and sent my soiled clothes and the towel down the laundry chute. Changing into a pair of jeans with bat patches, I fanned myself to make certain I didn’t have that ‘freshly fucked’ look when I went back downstairs.

Today was Wednesday. Next Wednesday was Halloween. It was the busiest time of year for me, and I loved it. I didn’t have time to lock myself in my room and masturbate myself through my heat.

The doorbell rang and my mom got to the door before I made it down the stairs. A part of me hoped Deacon had returned, and I prayed that Mr. Price didn’t think I was disappointed to see him when my smile faltered. I was truly happy to get my pumpkins—all thirteen of them—but I couldn’t get Deacon out of my head.

Once I had my carving area set up in the kitchen, I started on the biggest of the gourds. My mom readied bowls to help. One for the seeds, a second for the innards good for pie, and the last for the compost. We made a good team. As an only child, she and I had always been close. She made the treats, and I conjured the tricks.

“It was good to see Deacon again.” Of course Mom would have to bring him up. She picked out seeds from the latest bowl of pumpkin goo. “He’s grown into a handsome young man. Rosemary says he’s a blacksmith?”

I chuckled to cover the heat that rose to my face at the mention of his name. Deacon did have the sexy rugged look of a modern day blacksmith. “He can do some old-fashioned smithing, and he just finished his apprenticeship for metalworking, but he’s officially a metal artist. Though I think it’s funny because he could barely draw more than stick figures when we were kids.”

“You laugh, but he’s a dying breed. It’s near impossible to find a competent trades person to do anything these days.” She nodded as she shook some stubborn sticky fibers from her fingers. “Creative young people like him and you are rare these days.”

I smiled, feeling her pride. My parents fully supported me in my business, even if most people thought it was ridiculous to sell handmade Halloween decorations online. “Sad but true. I’m sure Claudia is happy to brag about Deacon to everyone.”

Claudia was Rosemary and Deacon’s mother. She’d been born into a family that had been rich for generations and acted like it. Not that she was mean, but sometimes she made it very clear that the Graves family was better than other families in town. Or rather, the Graves-Robinson family as Deacon’s father had died when he and Rosemary were small, and Claudia remarried Edward.

“No, I don’t hear much about Deacon. Lately it’s been Rosemary’s wedding.” That made sense. Rosemary was marrying a doctor. A veterinarian, but still a doctor. “Of course, she usually is going on about Katrina, and how the National Ballet Company has already accepted her at the age of eleven.”

Katrina was a fantastic kid who was a talented ballerina, and even though she was Edward’s daughter and only my best friend’s half-sister, she reminded me a lot of Rosemary at that age. Next year, she’d go to St. Monica’s because she was an Omega, but I doubted she’d ever give up dancing. Kat had more energy than even I did at that age, and if she didn’t have that physical outlet, she’d be trouble.

“Though she has mentioned arranging a match for Deacon.” Mom continued, and I nearly sliced a finger off with the carving knife. I missed it by a hair and curled my nearly chopped fingers up against my palm.

“A match?” I barely got the words out. My heartbeat was so loud, it echoed in my ears. I didn’t look up from the pumpkin I was cutting, because I had no idea which of the hundreds of emotions whirling through me was visible on my face at the moment.

“Yes, an Omega from Burlington. Claudia’s certain they’ll be the perfect match. The families are actually going to meet this weekend.”

No. Deacon was mine. Mine .

He wasn’t though. Not at all, and the force of that possessive thought was frightening. Just because an Alpha was compatible with an Omega didn’t make them good together. Deacon likely thought I was just another little sister, and there was no way he would be interested in mating with me.

“Isn’t matchmaking outdated? I’m sure Deacon wouldn’t go for such a thing.” The eyes I was carving were too uneven and jagged, but so were my frantic thoughts.

“I think arranged marriages are outdated,” my mom agreed. “But Claudia’s family is very traditional. It won’t work if they aren’t compatible, and there’s only a small chance of that. Besides, I trust Deacon knows what he wants and will make the best choice for himself despite his mother’s plans.”

“He is stubborn. I remember that much.” At least my mind could be set at ease on one level knowing that Deacon wouldn’t do something that huge just because his mother wanted him to. She put a lot of pressure on her children, but he followed his own path, and I admired him for it.

Yet what if he was compatible with the Omega from Burlington? What if she was pretty and charming and normal unlike the Halloween crazy witch who lived next door? I couldn’t compete with normal. Not that I wanted to be. I loved my weird self.

The problem was: did I want Deacon to love my weird self too?