Chapter Twenty #2
My gut cramps as I turn the corner to the kitchen, and I whimper and fall to my hands and knees.
Then Connor’s there, lifting me into his lap and holding me.
“Lana. What’s wrong, baby? You smell like fear. Are you hurt?”
“Connor?”
“It’s me. I’m here.”
“I thought you left me. That I was alone again.”
“I came to fix you some food. You were asleep.” His expression is perplexed.
I barely register his words. My emotions are on a hair trigger right now, and the tears come fast and hard. “When I woke up and you weren’t there— What's wrong with me? Why do you always leave? Why don’t you want me?"
He pulls my face into his chest and runs his hand down the back of my head. “Shh. I do want you—so much. You have me. You have me.”
The tears start to stream down my cheeks, and I hiccup.
The fridge door is still open behind Connor, its light weak in the gloom of the kitchen. A carton of eggs sits unopened on the counter.
I burrow deeper into his chest. “Don’t leave me. I can’t lose you again.” He knows I’m not talking about disappearing to the kitchen. His absence just woke up a deeper wound. One that may never fully heal.
He smooths my hair behind my ear.
His voice is rough when he speaks. “Never. You’ll never have to suffer like that again. I’m here, now and forever. I’m not going anywhere, baby. You have me.”
I sob into his neck, drooling all over his bite mark and mouthing at him with lips curled over my teeth.
I feel like I've reverted to some primal state where all I am is need made manifest. I know my fear of him leaving me is a result of trauma I never fully unpacked, but it’s hard to be rational when my heat has my emotions so dialed up.
Connor rubs his hand up and down my spine as I sob raggedly. Then he begins to purr, and the world starts to feel right again as the tightness in my chest loosens. The panic begins to fall away, those holes in my soul filled up with the sound of a deep, rhythmic vibration.
“It’s okay. Everything’s going to be all right. I’m never leaving you again. You’re mine. My omega. My mate.”
My sobs subside to tiny whimpers, and Connor wraps my legs around his waist and lifts me, then proceeds to scramble eggs with me clinging to him like a koala.
He’s transferring the eggs to a plate when I begin to lick his bite mark and grind against him, rocking my pelvis against his hips.
“Need your knot, alpha.”
“Soon, baby.”
I nip the underside of his jaw. “Now.”
“Fuck, okay,” he growls. “Now I understand why diners have post-heat specials. You haven’t eaten anything but fruit, water, and cum in four days.”
“Yes. Come for me.”
“You’re going to eat before I fuck you again.”
I shake my head like a toddler throwing a fit. “Now.”
Slick drips from me, down his belly to his dick, and he’s hard instantly.
He sucks in a ragged breath through his nostrils.
“Fuck. Fucking minx.”
“Please,” I whine and slide my pussy against his abs. I can feel his muscles flex beneath me.
“Fuck. Okay, okay.”
He lets me go, and I slide down his body. He spins me around and bends me over the kitchen counter, pinning me by the back of my neck.
He slides his cock between my pussy lips and the crack of my ass, spreading the slick everywhere.
Connor slips a slick finger against the ring of muscle there, teasing it. I tighten reflexively.
“One day I’m going to knot this ass. I want to see you leaking out both holes. I’m going to claim every inch of your body."
He slips inside me, and we groan together as he pushes deep, stretching me wide.
"Fuck yes. I love this tight little pussy. Never gonna get enough of it. Gonna keep you writhing on my cock for the rest of our fucking lives."
He fucks me deep. My hips bump the edge of the counter as he pulses inside me.
I want him to bite me. To be wholly his, finally.
“Claim me,” I beg him, arching my back. I sweep my hair to the other side of my neck, baring my mating gland.
He groans. “Lana, please don’t do that.”
"I want to feel your teeth."
“Should’ve brought a collar,” he mutters. "Neck looks too fucking good."
A mating collar, he means. To prevent bites from happening in the heat of the moment.
I turn my head to stare at him. His fangs are distended, pressing against his upper lip—something that only happens when an unmated alpha’s deep into rut.
“Bite me, Connor. Please.”
“I can’t.”
His hand wraps around my front to stroke my clit and fucks deeper, but I’m clearheaded enough right now to recognize the distraction for what it is.
I start to clench around him, and he snarls and yanks the kitchen towel off the oven door, shoving it between his teeth and gnawing on it like a leather strap. The pan on the stove starts to smoke.
Something cold unfurls inside my chest, spreading its dark tendrils.
Why won’t he bite me? Does he regret me biting him? He asked me to, right?
Doesn’t want you, doesn’t want you, doesn’t want you.
Temporary.
Not good enough.
Not his. Never his.
Connor keeps fucking me, plowing deep, and his efforts pull me back into a haze of lust. His fingers dig marks into my hips. He grunts into the rag as his knot swells inside me.
I start to sob as I come undone around him.
We’re locked together while he feeds me fruit and eggs, then he carries me back to the bedroom. The next time we fuck, he rolls us so I’m on top.
"Ride me. Want to bite you too bad."
The empty feeling inside me grows. My heart clenches.
"I want you to do it."
He gives me a terse shake of his head. "Not now. Need to talk about it."
What was there to talk about? We were mates. The only reason to talk would be to try and talk one of us out of it.