Chapter 1 #2
He readjusts, palms sliding from my wrists to grip my hipbones, thumbs pressing into the soft hollows there as he coaxes my thighs farther apart with his knees.
The slick, wet sounds of him fucking me fill the room.
He stretches me so wide it almost hurts, but I love it.
He knows exactly how to move, angle after angle, grinding and rocking until I see stars.
He pulls out, just to the tip, then slams back in and the knot catches, making me scream. My back bows off the bed. I’m shaking so hard my teeth chatter. He’s panting now, barely holding on, sweat slick on his chest.
"Perfect," he says against my shoulder. "You're so fucking perfect."
I lose count of how many times I come while locked to him.
Eventually it goes down and his movements slow. His breathing is ragged. When he pulls out this time he's shaking.
"I have to rest." He sounds wrecked. "Just for a bit."
He collapses beside me. Sweat-soaked. Chest heaving. I curl into him on instinct and his arm comes around me.
"Finn," he calls toward the door.
It opens and few seconds later and Finn steps in. His brown hair is disheveled, his glasses slightly fogged. He takes one look at us and crosses to the bed without hesitation.
"I've got her." He sits on the edge. "Rest."
Malcolm's hand trails down my arm before he lets go.
Finn pulls me into his lap. He smells like ink and rain and paper. No alpha pheromones overwhelming my senses. Just Finn. It’s nice.
My body doesn't surge toward him like it did for Malcolm. But when he touches my face, my skin still lights up.
"Hey," he says softly. "How are you holding up?"
"Burning."
"I know. Let me help."
He kisses me.
It's slow. Thorough. His tongue traces my bottom lip before sliding into my mouth. The kiss deepens and I find myself gripping his shoulders.
When he pulls back I'm breathless.
"You're a good kisser," I manage.
He smiles. "So are you."
His mouth moves to my throat. My collarbone. Down to my breasts. He takes his time. His tongue circles one nipple while his hand works the other.
"Finn." I arch into him.
"Patience."
He keeps going. Kisses down my ribs. My stomach. When he moves between my thighs I realize what he's about to do.
"Relax." His breath ghosts over me. "Let me take care of you."
The first touch of his tongue makes me gasp.
He's methodical. He finds every sensitive spot and pays attention to my reactions. When I whimper he does it again. When my hips buck he holds me down with one arm across my stomach.
"Stay still," he says against me.
I can't. By the time he slides two fingers inside me while his mouth works my clit I'm shaking apart.
The orgasm rolls through me in long waves. Finn works me through all of it.
When I stop trembling he kisses the inside of my thigh.
"There you are."
He moves back up my body and pushes between my legs. I feel him hard against me.
He enters me in one smooth thrust. Being a beta means he can move differently. He sets a steady rhythm that hits deep without overwhelming.
"You feel so good." His forehead presses to mine. "I've wanted this for so long."
"You don't even know me."
"I know enough."
He kisses me while he moves. One hand tangles in my hair. The other braces beside my head.
When I come it's quieter than with Malcolm. Softer. Finn follows seconds later with my name on his lips.
The relief lasts maybe ten minutes.
Then the heat builds again. Sharper this time.
Finn tries again. And again. But without the lock the satisfaction doesn't hold. Each orgasm brings less relief.
"I'm sorry." He sounds devastated. "I can't—"
"It's okay." I'm crying now. "It's not your fault."
He holds me for a while. Then he kisses my forehead.
"I’m going to get you some water. You need it. I'll be quick."
He leaves.
I lie there trembling. The heat is climbing. Malcolm is still passed out beside me, completely spent.
My mind drifts.
I'm back in the old house. The one with the creaky floorboards and the kitchen that was too small. It was my first year with Ragon's pack.
I woke up screaming from a nightmare about the registry. About being sent back by my first pack. I dreamed of cold hallways and clinical assessments and the knowledge that I wasn't good enough for them to keep.
Ragon was in my doorway in seconds. Still half-asleep. Hair messy. But his eyes were sharp and focused on me.
He didn't ask what was wrong. He just crossed the room and pulled me into his chest. His scent enveloped me. Pine smoke and steel and safety.
"No one is sending you back." His voice was firm. Certain. "Anyone who wants to take you from here goes through me first."
I believed every word.
It was the safest I had ever felt.
The memory fractures as another wave hits. A drowsy rumble vibrates from Malcolm's chest, yanking me from my memories, bringing me back to the bed. To this alpha who isn't Ragon.
My chest twists with something that might be guilt.
I left them. I'm here with Malcolm and Finn and Ragon's pack is falling apart without me.
Or maybe they're fine. Maybe Marie is everything they needed and I was just taking up space.
I don't know which possibility hurts more.
The AC kicks on, making the air drift around the room. I smell it.
Juniper… not pine. Not muted anymore.
Alex.
My head snaps toward the door. I can see the shadow of his body in the gap underneath.
He's right there.
A cramp hits hard and my scent spikes, sending out pure omega distress.
I want my alpha.
He's on the other side of a door.
I crawl across the bed. Drop to the floor. My legs barely hold me as I make my way to the door.
When I reach it I try the handle.
Locked.
"Alex." My voice cracks.
Silence.
Then movement. His shadow shifts.
"I'm here," he says strained, low and rough.
"Come in." I press my hand flat against the door. "I need you."
"I can't."
"Why?" I'm crying now. I can’t help it. "Why won't you help me?"
"Vee." He sounds wrecked. "I'm protecting us both by staying out here."
"I don't understand."
"You will. When your heat clears. I'll explain everything."
Another cramp seizes me and I double over with a sob. The whine that comes out of me is pitiful. Desperate. The kind of sound an omega makes when she needs her alpha.
Alex growls. The sound is desperate and wanting and barely controlled.
Then his hand appears in the gap under the door. Fingers stretching toward me.
I grab on immediately. His fingers are warm. Strong. He holds on just as tight as I do.
"I'm right here," he says. "I'm not leaving."
"Please." I'm begging now. "It hurts. Help me."
His thumb traces circles on my palm. Slow. Deliberate.
"When this is over," he says. "When you can think clearly. I will explain everything. I promise."
"I can think now."
"No, you can't. And I won't take advantage of that."
I sob. The heat is burning through me and he's right there but he won't come in.
Hands rest on my shoulders from behind.
Malcolm. He's awake again.
"Come back to bed," he says. "Let me help you."
"I want Alex." The words break apart.
"I know." Malcolm's hands are careful as he lifts me. "But he can't right now."
I hold onto Alex's fingers as long as I can. Our grips tighten. Then Malcolm carries me far enough that I have to let go.
I watch Alex's shadow through my tears.
He doesn't move.
He stays there.
Malcolm lays me back on the bed. His palms skate across my skin, his fingertips mapping my body.
"I've got you baby," he murmurs. “Trust in me.”
He enters me again. Slow and deep. His body covers mine.
I close my eyes and feel the phantom weight of Alex's fingers.
The circles his thumb was tracing on my palm.
Malcolm works me through another wave. He swells and locks us together as I come apart under him.
At some point we both pass out.
The heat doesn't break.
It keeps going.
And somewhere on the other side of the door, Alex is still there.