26. Storm
Chapter 26
Storm
I don't know what possesses me to drop the towel.
Maybe it's the heat from the bath still coursing through my veins, making me feel relaxed and daring. Maybe it's the way Reed's stormy eyes darken when they meet mine, a silent challenge I can't resist answering. Or maybe it's something deeper, a need I've been fighting since that first day in the penthouse, when his scent wrapped around me like a physical thing.
Whatever it is, I let the towel fall to the floor in a soft puddle around my feet, exposing myself completely to his gaze.
The room goes utterly still. Even the air seems to pause, heavy with tension and the mingling of our scents—my dark chocolate perfuming powerfully, meeting his saltwater and cedar in an intoxicating clash.
Reed's reaction is immediate and visceral. His eyes darken to near-black, wide with desire. A low, rumbling growl builds in his chest, the sound vibrating through the room and straight to my core. His nostrils flare as he inhales deeply, drinking in my scent, and I watch with a strange satisfaction as his control visibly frays.
"Storm," he says again, my name a rough command. "What are you doing?"
I cock my hip to the side, summoning every ounce of the attitude that's driven him crazy for years. "What does it look like, Alpha? I'm giving you a show." I run my hands down my sides, deliberately provocative. "Unless you'd rather I put the towel back on and go find someone who appreciates the view."
His growl deepens, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "You're playing with fire."
"Maybe I like getting burned," I shoot back, taking a step toward him. "Or maybe you're all talk and no action. Which is it, Reed?"
His jaw tightens, the muscle there jumping beneath his skin. "This isn't a game."
"I'm not playing," I say, taking another step closer, hyperaware of my nakedness. "Are you afraid, Reed?"
That provokes him, as I knew it would. Reed Howard, afraid? Unthinkable. He closes the distance between us in two long strides, looming over me with all his alpha presence. Up close, his scent is overwhelming—saltwater, cedar, and something darker, something hungry.
My heart hammers against my ribs, but I refuse to back down. I've never backed down from him, and I won't start now, even as every omega instinct in me screams to submit to the powerful alpha before me.
"Afraid?" he echoes, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. "Of you?"
Before I can respond, his hand comes up to cup my face, the touch surprisingly gentle despite the barely leashed power thrumming through him. His thumb traces my cheekbone, sending shivers racing down my spine.
"You should be afraid of me," he murmurs, his eyes tracking the path of his thumb across my skin. "Afraid of what I could do to you."
"But I'm not," I whisper back, leaning into his touch despite myself. "I've never been afraid of you, Reed."
His gaze snaps to mine, surprise flashing in those stormy depths. Then he dips his head, his lips hovering just above mine. "You should be," he breathes against my mouth, the words a caress and a warning.
He kisses me.
It's nothing like Frankie's kiss in the forest, sweet and exploratory. Nothing like Rook's familiar, comforting touch. This is fire and storm and danger. Reed kisses like he fights. Defined, calculated, yet with an underlying violence that threatens to break free at any moment.
I gasp against his mouth, giving him the opening he needs to deepen the kiss. His tongue slides against mine, claiming, demanding, and I find myself responding with equal passion, my hands coming up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer.
A small voice in the back of my mind is screaming questions. What am I doing? But the louder, more insistent part of me doesn't care. The part driven by omega biology and something deeper, more personal—a need I've been denying since the moment I first scented him.
Reed's hands move to my waist, his touch scorches against my bare skin. He lifts me effortlessly, and instinctively my legs wrap around his hips, bringing us flush against each other. I can feel him, hard through his jeans, pressing against my core, and a whimper escapes me at the contact.
He breaks the kiss to trail his lips down my neck, finding the spot where he scent-marked me this morning. "Mine," he growls against my skin, the word vibrating through me like a physical force. His teeth graze the sensitive spot, not hard enough to break skin, not a claiming bite, but the threat—or promise—of one sends heat spiraling through me.
My head falls back, baring my throat to him in a gesture of submission that would have horrified me just days ago. But here, now, with Reed's scent enveloping me and his hands holding me like I'm something precious, I can't bring myself to care.
"Reed," I gasp as he sucks at the tender skin of my neck. "Reed, please."
He growls at the plea, the vibration traveling from his chest to mine where we're pressed together. In one smooth motion, he turns and carries me to his bed, laying me down with unexpected gentleness. He stands back, his eyes raking over me sprawled across his sheets, and I can’t get a read on him. Suddenly self-conscious, I cover my chest with my arm.
Reed hasn't moved, watching me with those intense eyes. "We can stop," he says, his voice tight with restraint. "If you want to leave?—"
"No," I interrupt, surprising both of us with the firmness of my response. "No, I... I want this. Want you."
Desire flashes in Reed's eyes. "Say it again," he demands, moving closer to the bed, to me.
I swallow hard, dropping my arms away from my chest, letting him see all of me again. "I want you, Reed."
The words hang in the air between us, a confession and a challenge. Reed unbuttons his shirt, shrugging it off to reveal the sculpted planes of his chest and abdomen. I've caught glimpses of him shirtless before, but never like this, never with the knowledge that I'm allowed to touch.
He's beautiful in a dangerous way, all lean muscle and coiled power. Various scars mark his skin, telling stories of fights and battles I know nothing about. I want to trace each one, learn their histories, understand the alpha who's been my enemy and is now... what? My lover? The thought sends a fresh wave of slick between my thighs.
Reed unbuckles his belt next. His eyes never leave mine as he unbuttons his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers in one smooth motion.
I inhale sharply at the sight of him fully naked. He's all alpha, large and powerful, his hard cock a little intimidating. For a moment, uncertainty flickers through me. I've been with Rook before, but that was years ago, when I was a beta. My omega body is different now. It’s designed to take an alpha knot.
Reed must see the flicker of doubt in my eyes because he approaches the bed slowly, his movements careful, controlled. He sits beside me, not touching, giving me space. "We don't have to do anything you don't want," he says, his voice gentler than I've ever heard it. "We can just..."
"Just what?" I ask when he trails off.
A small smile curves his lips, softening his normally harsh features. "Just be here. Like this."
The offer surprises me, so unlike the domineering alpha I thought I knew. I reach out hesitantly, my fingers skimming along his jaw, feeling the stubble there rasp against my skin. He turns his face slightly, pressing a kiss to my palm, and the tenderness of the gesture makes my chest tight with emotions I'm not ready to name.
"I want everything," I whisper, the omega in me taking over, demanding, needing. "All of you. Please, Reed."
The plea breaks his restraint. With a low growl, he's suddenly over me, pressing me back against the mattress, his hard body covering mine. The weight of him is delicious, his skin hot against mine, his scent surrounding me completely now.
His mouth finds mine again, the kiss deeper, hungrier than before. I arch up against him, my hands roaming over his back, feeling the muscles beneath my touch. He groans into my mouth when my nails dig into his skin; the sound sending vibrations through my core.
Reed braces himself on one elbow, his other hand skimming down my body, leaving trails of fire in its wake. He cups my breast, his thumb brushing over my sensitive nipple, and I gasp at the jolt of pleasure the simple touch sends through me. He smiles against my lips, repeating the motion and drawing another gasp from me.
"So responsive," he murmurs, sounding pleased. "So beautiful, Little Omega. Little Storm."
The endearment, which usually makes my teeth grind with irritation, now sends a shiver of pleasure down my spine. In this moment, with Reed's hands on me and his scent in my lungs, I don't mind being his little omega, at least for now.
A question that's been burning in me suddenly rises to the surface. "Do you really hate me, Reed?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
His movements stop, those stormy eyes finding mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch. For a long moment, he says nothing, just studies my face as if searching for something.
"I've never hated you, Storm," he finally says, his voice rough with emotion. "Not once. Not ever."
"Then why?—"
"Because you terrify me," he admits, the confession clearly costing him. "Because from the moment I first saw you in that underground fight club, something in me recognized something in you. And I've been fighting it ever since."
I swallow hard, another question forming. "Was it you? All those years in the Omega House, watching through the cameras when I..." I trail off, heat rushing to my cheeks.
A small, knowing smile curves his lips. "When you touched yourself every morning?" he finishes for me, his voice dropping lower. "Yes."
The admission should embarrass me. I thought it was Jonathan. Instead, it sends a fresh wave of heat through me to know he was watching me all those years.
"You knew I was doing it to spite Jonathan," I say, a challenge in my voice.
His thumb traces my lower lip, his eyes darkening. "I knew. And I still couldn't look away."
Desire coils tighter in my belly at his words, at the raw honesty between us. I pull him down for another kiss, suddenly desperate to feel him against me again.
His mouth leaves mine to trail down my neck, paying special attention to the spot he marked earlier. Then lower, across my collarbone, down to where his hand still teases my breast. When his lips close around my sensitive nipple, I cry out, arching into his mouth.
"Reed," I gasp, threading my fingers through his hair, holding him to me. "Please, I need?—"
"I know what you need," he says against my skin. The vibration of his voice adds another layer to the pleasure building in me. "Trust me, Little Storm."
And strangely, I do. In this moment, I trust Reed Howard completely, surrendering to the sensations he's creating in me, letting go of the control I've fought so hard to maintain.
His hand slides down my stomach, his touch teasing, maddening. I shift beneath him, silently begging for more. He chuckles, the sound dark and promising, as his fingers finally reach my clit, then dip lower.
"So wet," he growls, finding me slick and ready for him. "Is all this slick for me, Little Omega?" His thumb circles that sensitive bundle of nerves, making me gasp. "Tell me."
"Yes," I admit. "For you, Reed. Please."
His fingers dip inside me, first one, then two, stretching me slowly. I moan at the intrusion, my hips bucking up to meet his hand. Reed watches my face as he works his fingers deeper, his expression intense, focused entirely on my pleasure.
"So tight," he murmurs, his voice strained. "So perfect."
His thumb continues its maddening circles on my clit while his fingers curl inside me, finding that spot that makes me see stars. I cry out, my hands fisting in the sheets as pleasure builds within me, a tidal wave threatening to crash.
"Reed," I pant, my voice breaking on his name. "I'm going to?—"
"Yes," he encourages, his pace increasing. "Come for me, Little Storm. Let me see you fall apart."
The command in his voice, the intensity of his gaze, the relentless pressure of his fingers, it's all too much. I shatter beneath his touch, waves of pleasure crashing through me as my body trembles around his fingers. I cry out his name, unable to hold back the sounds of my pleasure.
Reed watches me with hungry eyes, drinking in every expression, every sound. As I come down from the high, trembling and sensitive, he slowly withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to taste me. The sight of it sends another jolt of arousal through me.
"You taste even better than I imagined," he says, his voice rough with desire.
I reach for him, pulling him back down to me. "I need you," I whisper against his lips. "All of you."
He positions himself between my thighs, the hard length of him pressing against my entrance. For a moment, he hesitates, his eyes searching mine for permission. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," I breathe, wrapping my legs around his waist. "I want this. I want you."
He enters me slowly, giving me time to adjust to his size. The stretch is delicious, bordering on pain, but never quite crossing that line. I feel so full, so complete with him inside me. My hands clutch at his shoulders, digging my nails into his skin as he pushes deeper.
"Fuck," he groans, his forehead dropping to rest against mine. "You feel incredible."
"So do you," I gasp, my body adjusting to accommodate him. "Please, move."
Reed starts with slow, measured thrusts, watching my face for any sign of discomfort. But there's only pleasure building with each rock of his hips. I arch beneath him, meeting his movements, silently urging him for more. His control breaks gradually, his thrusts becoming faster, deeper, more insistent. The room fills with the sounds of our pleasure—my gasps and moans, his low growls, the rhythmic movement of our bodies together.
"Storm," he groans, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining some semblance of control. "You were made for this. Made for me."
In any other context, the possessive words would have sparked my defiance. But here, now, with Reed moving inside me—pleasure building to impossible heights—I can only agree. "Yes," I gasp. "Yours, Reed. Please, don't stop."
His rhythm falters at my words, his eyes widening slightly, as if surprised by my admission. Then his expression darkens with hunger. He shifts, changing the angle of his thrusts, hitting a spot deep inside me that has me seeing stars. My back arches off the bed, a cry tearing from my throat.
"There," he growls, repeating the motion. "Right there, Little Storm."
His pace increases, each thrust driving deeper, harder, hitting that perfect spot over and over. I can feel his knot beginning to swell at the base of his cock, pressing against my entrance with each thrust. The sensation is new and slightly intimidating, but my omega body craves it, needs it.
"Reed," I pant, feeling my second orgasm building rapidly. "Your knot... I want?—"
"Yes," he groans, his control slipping. "Take it, Little Storm. Take all of me."
With his next thrust, his knot pushes past my entrance, stretching me further than I thought possible. There's a moment of sharp pressure, almost pain, and then he's fully seated inside me, his knot locking us together. I gasp at the sensation of fullness, of completeness, as my body adjusts around him.
"Storm," he breathes, his voice reverent. "You feel so perfect."
The pressure of his knot against that sensitive spot inside me is too much. I come undone beneath him, crying out his name as pleasure crashes through me in waves more intense than anything I've ever felt. My inner walls clench around him, milking his knot, and Reed follows me over the edge with a guttural growl that vibrates through my entire body.
He collapses on top of me, careful to keep his weight on his forearms. His face buries in my neck, his breath hot against my skin as we both try to catch our breath. The feeling of him inside me, his knot keeping us connected, is strangely intimate, comforting in a way I hadn't expected. This connection, this vulnerability with someone I've spent so long fighting against, should terrify me.
Instead, it feels right.
"Are you okay?" Reed murmurs against my neck, pressing soft kisses to my heated skin. His voice holds a tenderness I've never heard from him before.
"Yes," I whisper, my fingers tracing idle patterns on his back, feeling the sweat cooling on his skin. "Better than okay."
He shifts slightly, careful not to tug on his knot, positioning us on our sides so we're facing each other. His hand comes up to brush a wild curl from my face, tucking it behind my ear with unexpected gentleness.
"I didn't hurt you?" he asks, his stormy eyes searching mine with genuine concern.
I shake my head, a smile tugging at my lips. "No. You didn't hurt me." I reach up to touch his face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw. "It was perfect."
The intensity in his eyes softens at my words, something vulnerable flickering in their stormy depths. For a moment, he looks younger, less guarded—more like the Reed that might have existed before life hardened him.
"You're full of surprises, Little Storm," he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead.
I laugh softly, the movement causing his knot to shift inside me, drawing a gasp from both of us. "So are you, Reed. Who knew you could be so... gentle?"
A smirk tugs at his lips, but there's warmth behind it. "Don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain."
"Your secret's safe with me," I promise, snuggling closer to his warmth.
We lie in comfortable silence for a while, his knot still keeping us connected. His fingers trace lazy patterns on my skin, sending little ripples of pleasure through me. I'm struck by how different this Reed is from the cold, intimidating alpha I thought I knew. This Reed is attentive, almost tender, his touch soft as his hand skims over my hip, my waist, the curve of my breast.
"What happens now?" I ask, breaking the silence, my voice barely above a whisper.
Reed's hand stills, his stormy eyes meeting mine. "What do you want to happen?"
It's such a simple question, but the answer feels impossibly complex. What do I want? Freedom. Safety. A world where omegas aren't treated like property. But in this moment, with Reed's scent surrounding me and his body joined with mine, those larger desires narrow down to something more immediate, more personal.
"This," I whisper, pressing closer to him. "Just... this. For now."
Something flickers in Reed's expression—relief, perhaps? His arm tightens around me, drawing me against his chest where I can feel his heart beating steadily beneath my palm.
"We can have this," he murmurs, his lips brushing my forehead. "For as long as you want it."
The simple promise settles something in me. That whatever this is between us, it's not just physical. There's something deeper here, something neither of us fully understands yet, but both feel.
"What about Rook?" I ask, the question slipping out before I can stop it. "And Frankie?"
Reed tenses slightly, his jaw tightening. For a moment, I think he might pull away, but instead, he exhales slowly, his fingers resuming their gentle exploration of my skin.
"I talked to Rook," he says, surprising me. "We've reached... an understanding."
I pull back slightly to see his face better. "An understanding? What does that mean?"
Reed's expression is unreadable, his eyes meeting mine steadily. "It means we both want what's best for you. What makes you happy."
The simple statement catches me off guard. "Since when does Reed Howard care about my happiness?"
A small smile curves his lips, his hand coming up to trace my cheekbone. "Since the moment you pulled our name from that barrel and turned my carefully ordered world upside down."
My heart skips at the admission, at the raw honesty in his voice. "I didn't mean to," I whisper.
"I know," he says. "That's what makes you so dangerous, Little Storm. You change things just by existing." His expression grows serious, his hand cradling my face. "And as for Frankie... that's up to you."
I swallow hard, confusion swirling through me. "What do you mean?"
Reed's thumb traces my lower lip, his eyes following the movement. "I mean that I'm not going to dictate who you can or can't be with. This isn't the Omega House, Storm. You're not a possession to be controlled."
The declaration stuns me into silence. After years of fighting against a system that treats omegas as property, to hear those words from an elite alpha, from Reed Howard.
"But you scent-marked me," I point out, remembering his possessive display in the kitchen. "You growled at Frankie for touching me."
A rueful smile crosses Reed's face. "I know. I'm not perfect, Storm." His expression turns more serious. "But I'm trying. For you."
The admission sends warmth blooming in my chest. I lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, overwhelmed by this new side of Reed I'm discovering.
"Thank you," I whisper against his mouth. "For understanding that I need Frankie."
I feel his knot beginning to subside, the physical connection between us loosening. A strange sense of loss washes over me as Reed carefully pulls out, both of us gasping at the sensation. He doesn't move away though, keeping me cradled against his chest, his arms secure around me.
I rest my head against his chest, my mind drifting to what he just said. Reed, giving me a choice. This is new territory for me, and I'm still wrapping my head around it.
"You were my first," I say after a moment, my voice soft but sure. I feel him stiffen slightly, his heartbeat skipping beneath my cheek. I tilt my head to look at him, seeing the confusion flicker in those stormy eyes. "My first knot," I clarify, watching as understanding dawns on his face. His surprise is almost comical, his jaw dropping slightly as he processes my admission.
"But you and Rook?" Reed's voice is carefully neutral, but I can hear the question beneath.
"Rook was with me before I presented," I explain, my fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. "When I was still a beta. I couldn’t take his knot then." I pause, memories flooding back.
"Even with him back," Reed prompts, his voice laced with curiosity. "You didn't let him knot you?" I roll my eyes at him, a laugh bubbling up.
"Difficult to experience his knot when there was an asshole alpha threatening to end him if his dick came anywhere near me," I say, sarcasm dripping from my words. "Ring any bells?"
Reed laughs loud, and it’s infectious. The sound vibrates through his chest beneath my ear, a deep rumble that's so unlike the controlled, cold alpha I thought I knew. I prop myself up on my elbow to better see his face, fascinated by this new expression. His eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs, softening his normally harsh features, making him look younger, more approachable.
"I had my reasons," he says, his laughter fading but the smile lingering on his lips.
"Which were?" I press, curious now that we're in this strange new territory of honesty.
Reed's hand comes up to brush another wild curl from my face, his touch gentle. "I told myself it was about pack law. About maintaining order." He pauses, his eyes searching mine. "The truth is, I hated knowing he could touch you when I couldn't."
The confession hangs in the air between us, raw and honest. I can feel the weight of it settling in my chest, the vulnerability in Reed’s voice taking me by surprise. This is something real. I barely have time to process the shock of his words before he continues. His next revelation is even more stunning.
“You’re my first too,” he says, his stormy eyes watching me closely. I blink at him, struggling to comprehend what he just said.
“Your first?” The disbelief is clear in my voice.
His gaze holds mine steadily. “The first omega I’ve ever knotted,” he confirms.
“But Fox?” I ask, confusion swirling through me.
Reed shakes his head, his expression earnest. “Alex and Jon, they tend to his heats,” he explains. “The one time I helped him out...” He hesitates, as if unsure how I'll react to what he's about to tell me. “I love Fox, he’s pack.” The honesty in his eyes takes my breath away.
"But you, Storm. You are the first I've knotted." His fingers trace my cheek with tenderness. "And the only one I want to."
His words settle heavy between us, sinking into my bones. I should feel trapped, marked. Instead, I feel something far more dangerous.
I feel like I might finally belong.