33. Reid
Reid
T he new Mercedes handles mountain roads like it was designed for them, but I can smell something different about Sadie from the moment she settles into the passenger seat.
Her usual honeysuckle and vanilla carries a deeper note underneath—something richer, warmer, that makes my alpha instincts sit up and take notice.
Mental exhaustion, yes, but there’s something else. Something that makes me want to wrap her in blankets and never let her out of my sight.
“This is completely unnecessary,” she says, running her hands over leather seats with obvious appreciation. “A fancy car just to drive around Honeyridge Falls.”
“It’s not just for driving around town,” I tell her, taking the winding road toward the scenic overlook. “It’s for taking my omega somewhere she can actually think about something other than flower arrangements.”
The possessive way I say ‘my omega’ makes her scent spike with arousal, but underneath lingers the bone-deep tiredness that comes from perfectionism, not financial stress.
“Your omega should be working on the Morrison anniversary arrangements,” she says, settling back into the passenger seat. “They’re gorgeous, but I keep thinking of small improvements?—”
“The Morrison arrangements are perfect,” I interrupt firmly. “I saw them this morning. You’ve been tweaking details that were already flawless.”
“But if the ribbon placement is slightly off, or the color balance?—”
“Sadie.” My voice carries alpha authority that makes her go still. “When did you last do something just because you enjoyed it, not because you were trying to achieve perfection?”
Her silence confirms what I suspected. With all financial pressure removed, she’s transferred that energy into an impossible standard of artistic excellence. Working longer hours than when she was broke, driven by her own perfectionist nature instead of necessity.
The scenic overlook is exactly what I hoped—empty this late in the afternoon, with a breathtaking view of the valley spread out below us. Mountains in the distance, autumn colors painting the landscape, and complete privacy.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathes, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.
“Not as beautiful as you,” I say, which should sound like a line but comes out completely sincere.
She turns to look at me with that expression I’ve learned to recognize—arousal and affection mixed with the kind of vulnerability that makes my chest tight.
“Reid, I know I’ve been obsessing over details lately?—”
“You’ve been pushing yourself too hard,” I correct gently. “There’s a difference between excellence and exhaustion.”
“I just want everything to be perfect. The shop is doing so well, and I want to keep that momentum?—”
“The shop is successful because of your talent, not because you work eighteen-hour days.” I reach over to cup her face, feeling the exhaustion in the fine lines around her eyes. “You’re allowed to rest, sweetheart. You’re allowed to just... be.”
The concern in my voice makes her scent shift from bitter stress to sweet vulnerability. “Sometimes I forget that.”
“Then let me remind you,” I tell her, leaning closer to breathe in her familiar honeysuckle. “Let me remind you that you’re precious just as you are.”
The simple declaration makes her eyes well with tears she’s been holding back for weeks. “I don’t know when I started thinking I had to earn every good thing in my life.”
“You don’t earn love, Sadie. You just receive it and give it back.” I unbuckle both our seatbelts and guide her over the center console to settle astride my lap. “Let me take care of you.”
The confined space makes everything more intense—her scent wrapping around me while her weight settles perfectly against my growing arousal. This is about connection, about reminding her that she’s allowed to want things just for herself.
“This feels very teenage,” she says with a soft laugh, but her hands are already working at my shirt buttons.
“I never had time for teenage makeout sessions,” I admit, helping her strip away my clothes. “Too busy planning my escape from small-town life.”
“Poor sophisticated alpha,” she teases, but her touch is gentle as she explores my chest. “Look how that turned out.”
“Best mistake I ever made,” I agree, not caring about irony when her mouth finds my throat. “Led me straight to you.”
Her lips against my neck send sparks down my spine. The way she explores my skin with her tongue, tasting salt and something that’s purely me, makes my cock throb against her core. I can smell how her scent deepens with arousal, that honeysuckle and vanilla turning richer, warmer.
“I want you,” she says simply, her voice soft but certain. “Not because I should, not because it’s expected. Just because I want this. Want you.”
The honesty in her voice makes my chest tight with emotion. “Then take me,” I tell her, framing her face with my hands. “Take whatever you want from me.”
She kisses me then, deep and hungry, pouring all her need into the connection of our mouths. I respond with everything I have, tasting her sweetness while my hands map the curves of her body.
“Let me worship you,” I murmur against her lips. “Let me show you how much I love touching you.”
My hands slide under her sweater, and she arches into my touch with a soft gasp. Her skin is warm and soft, perfect under my palms. I peel away her clothes slowly, savoring every inch of exposed skin.
“So beautiful,” I breathe, cupping her breasts and feeling their weight in my hands. “I could spend hours just touching you.”
“Reid,” she gasps when I lean down to take one peaked nipple into my mouth. Her hands tangle in my hair, holding me against her as I worship her with lips and tongue and gentle teeth.
The taste of her skin drives me wild. Clean and sweet with that underlying omega scent that makes every alpha instinct I have roar to life. I alternate between her breasts, lavishing attention on each nipple until she’s writhing against me, soft moans spilling from her lips.
“Please,” she whimpers, her hips rolling against my hardness. “I need more.”
“I know what you need,” I tell her, my voice rough with want. “But I’m going to take my time giving it to you.”
My hands slide down to work at her jeans, and she lifts herself to help me strip away the last barriers between us. When she settles back onto my lap, completely naked, the sight of her steals my breath.
“God, you’re perfect,” I say, running my hands over every inch of exposed skin. “Look at you. My beautiful omega.”
The possessive words make her scent spike with arousal, fresh slick coating my fingers when I slide my hand between her thighs. She’s already wet for me, her body preparing itself for what’s coming.
“So ready,” I murmur, circling her entrance with gentle fingers. “Can you feel how much your body wants this? How much it wants me?”
“Yes,” she sobs, rolling her hips to increase the pressure. “Want you so much it hurts.”
I slide one finger inside her slick heat, feeling how her inner walls flutter around the intrusion. She’s tight and incredibly responsive, clenching around me like she never wants to let go.
“More,” she begs, her nails digging into my shoulders. “Please, Reid, I need more.”
I add a second finger, curling them to find that spot inside her that makes her see stars. When I apply pressure, she cries out, her back arching as pleasure crashes through her.
“That’s it,” I encourage, working her with skilled precision. “Let me hear how good this feels.”
She can’t form coherent words anymore, only broken sounds of pleasure as I build her higher. My thumb finds her clit, circling the sensitive bundle while my fingers work inside her. The combination makes her shake with need.
“Reid, I’m going to—” She cuts off with a scream as her first orgasm tears through her, her inner walls clenching around my fingers so hard it’s almost violent.
I don’t stop. Before the aftershocks fade, I’m building her toward another peak, using different pressure, different angles. She’s sobbing my name, her whole body trembling with the intensity of sensation.
“I can’t,” she whimpers, but her body betrays her words, responding eagerly to my touch.
“You can,” I tell her with quiet authority. “You’re going to come for me again. Because I love watching you fall apart.”
When the second climax hits, she screams again, tears streaming down her face from the overwhelming pleasure. I gentle my touch, helping her ride out the waves until she’s boneless in my arms.
“Beautiful,” I murmur, pressing soft kisses to her throat. “You’re so beautiful when you let go.”
“Need you,” she whispers, her voice hoarse from screaming. “Need you inside me. Please.”
I position myself at her entrance, the head of my cock sliding through her abundant slick. She’s burning hot and incredibly wet, her body more than ready for what I’m about to give her.
“Take me,” I tell her, my voice rough with need. “Take everything you want.”
She begins to sink down onto me slowly, her eyes locked on mine. The feeling of her surrounding me, so tight and perfect and mine, makes my vision blur. She moves with deliberate grace, taking her time, letting me feel every perfect inch of her.
“Love how you fill me,” she pants, head thrown back as she finds her rhythm. “Love feeling so connected to you.”
I reach between us to find her most sensitive spot again, circling with gentle pressure while my other hand grips her hip. Her response is immediate—a sharp intake of breath, her inner walls fluttering around me.
“That’s it,” I growl, my voice dropping into that possessive alpha tone that makes her clench around me. “Take what you need from your alpha.”
Her movements become more urgent as I work her with skilled fingers, building her higher. I can feel my knot beginning to swell at the base of my cock, preparing to lock us together in the most intimate way possible. The pressure builds slowly, inevitably, my body preparing to claim her completely.
“Reid,” she gasps, feeling my knot pressing against her entrance. “Your knot—I can feel it growing. It’s getting so big.”
“Want it?” I ask, increasing the pressure on her clit while my knot continues to swell. “Want me to lock inside you right here?”
“Yes,” she sobs, bearing down to take my expanding knot. “Please, want your knot. Want to be locked together with you.”
The stretch as my knot pushes inside makes us both cry out. She’s so tight around me, her body welcoming the fullness even as it becomes almost overwhelming. I can feel her inner walls stretching to accommodate my knot, the sensation so intense it makes me see stars.
“So big,” she whimpers, tears streaming down her face as she adjusts to the incredible fullness. “So full, Reid. I can feel every inch of you.”
“That’s right,” I growl, my control hanging by a thread. “My knot is going to lock us together. Keep us connected.”
When my knot finally inflates completely, locking us together, she screams my name as her climax crashes through her. Her whole body convulses with the intensity, inner walls clamping down on my knot so hard I see actual stars behind my closed eyelids.
I follow immediately after, buried deep and knotted tight, my release filling her in endless waves. The sensation of being locked together, completely connected, makes everything else disappear. There’s only her—her scent, her heat, the way she clings to me like I’m her anchor.
“Mine,” I growl against her throat, overcome with possessive satisfaction. “My perfect omega.”
“Yours,” she agrees breathlessly, her voice broken from screaming. “Always yours, Reid.”
We stay locked together for nearly fifteen minutes, her body occasionally fluttering around my knot as aftershocks ripple through her. I can feel her complete relaxation through our bond, the way her perfectionist anxiety has finally melted away.
“Better?” I ask as she collapses against my chest, my knot still locking us together.
“So much better,” she murmurs into my neck, her scent now thoroughly mixed with mine. The honeysuckle and vanilla carry notes of satisfaction and claim—my scent marking her as surely as any bite. “Thank you for reminding me to just... want things.”
“Thank you for letting me take care of you,” I say, stroking her hair as my knot slowly begins to soften. “For letting me love you.”
“Always,” she breathes against my throat. “Your omega, remember?”
The possessive way she says it makes my chest tight with emotion. When my knot finally deflates enough for me to slip free, we both whimper at the loss of connection.
“Home?” I ask softly, helping her straighten her clothes.
“Home,” she agrees, and her scent carries complete contentment now. Less stressed, more settled. Ready to accept that she’s allowed to want things just for herself.
As we drive back to our cottage and our life together, I can smell the difference in her—thoroughly claimed and utterly mine. But underneath the satisfaction, that new note in her scent lingers. Deeper, richer, protective instincts I didn’t know I had stirring to life.
I file the observation away for later. Right now, watching my omega understand that she’s allowed to want things just for the joy of wanting them is everything.
Money can buy a lot of things, but this? This is priceless.