Fox #2
She moves closer, the weight of her settling next to my hip. The nest is big enough for both of us, but she makes a point of not leaving any space.
She reaches for my hand, her fingers cool and dry. She traces the mark on my leg, then wraps her hand around it, covering the raw spot. “Does it hurt?”
“Not really. I like it.”
She studies me, something unspoken in her gaze. “I like it too.”
We sit in the glow of it, the truth of the bond, until I can’t stand the distance anymore. I reach up, brush a strand of hair from her cheek, and let my hand linger there. She closes her eyes, tilts her head into my palm, a sigh slipping from her lips.
I lean forward and press my forehead to hers. Her lashes flutter, and she opens her eyes, inches from mine.
“I love you,” I whisper.
She smiles, a real, unguarded smile, the kind that makes her eyes shine, and she pulls me in, arms looping around my neck.
“I love you too,” she says, and I believe it. I can feel it through the bond.
We fall together, collapsing sideways into the pile of blankets and pillows, her hair fanned out across my chest, my arms wrapped tight around her shoulders. The violin is forgotten. Nothing matters except the warmth of her body and the steady drumbeat of her heart against mine.
She nuzzles into my throat, the tip of her nose cold against my skin.
I kiss her temple, her hair, her cheek, memorizing every inch.
Our scents mingle in the air, sweet and sharp and undeniable.
I’m not an alpha, but I don’t feel lesser.
I feel like I belong, like I’m wanted, like there’s a place for me that nobody else could ever fill.
She slips her hand under my shirt, tracing circles over my ribs, and I shiver at the touch. I hold her tighter, never wanting to let go.
She kisses me, slow and gentle, then pulls back just enough to look me in the eye.
I can’t stop staring at her, at the way the shadows play over her face, at the loose drape of Hunter’s hoodie slipping off one shoulder, at the exposed stretch of collarbone that is begging me to kiss it.
She threads her legs with mine and hooks a foot around my calf. Her scent is everywhere now. The bond mark on my leg is on fire with want for her.
She tucks a hand under my jaw, fingers cold and sure, and draws my face toward hers. Her eyes are darker than usual, pupils blown wide in the lamplight.
She kisses me again.
It’s soft at first, and I’m startled by how gentle it is. Her mouth is warm, insistent, but she holds the pressure for barely a second before pulling back, eyes flicking to mine. When I don’t run, she leans in again, this time slower, lips parting just enough to taste me.
I shudder, all the nerves in my body lighting up at once.
I let my hand find her hip, fingers sliding under the hem of her hoodie. Her skin is hot, soft, prickling with goosebumps. She arches into the touch, pushing closer. The next kiss is messier, wetter, her teeth catching my bottom lip before she pulls away again.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“I love you too,” I say, barely trusting my voice.
She tugs my hand to her thigh, guides it up between her legs. She’s already slick, and the moment my fingers slide in, she arches like she’s been electrocuted.
I roll her onto her back, my mouth hungry for every inch of her.
I kiss her jaw, her throat, the sharp collarbone I worshipped earlier.
I move lower, nipping at her shoulder, at the perfect slope of her breast, at the line where her ribs meet her stomach.
She moans, quiet but desperate, and fists both hands in my hair, pulling me down.
I want to taste her. I want it so bad I can barely breathe.
She opens for me, legs falling apart, and I settle between them, hands bracing her hips. Her scent is dizzying and more potent than any omega I’ve ever known. My tongue finds her, slow at first, just a tease. She bucks, and I go deeper, lapping up every drop, memorizing the shape and feel of her.
She’s gasping now, every breath a new melody, every sound louder than the last. I slide two fingers inside her and curl them, searching for the spot that makes her lose control. It takes only a second before her thighs clamp my head in a vice, and she screams my name.
I pull back just enough to watch her fall apart. Her eyes are shut, lips parted, whole body shaking. She clings to the sheets, knuckles white, and when the orgasm finally lets her go, she collapses, boneless, still twitching.
I crawl up, kiss her mouth, and let her taste herself on my tongue.
“I love you,” I say, voice raw.
She smiles, lazy and sated. “Show me again.”
I flip us so I’m flat on my back and she’s half sprawled over me.
Her hands are everywhere, up my ribs, into my hair, cupping my jaw, and tracing the line of my ear.
Every touch is a spark, every inch she uncovers a new fire.
My t-shirt is off before I know it, tossed somewhere into the nest. She drags her nails down my chest, scraping over the patch of skin above my heart.
I gasp, the sound embarrassing and needy, but she doesn’t tease.
She just moves lower, tongue flicking along my collarbone, lips pressing to every old scar and freckle she finds.
I reach for her, digging my fingers into the dip of her waist. I want to pull her closer, to swallow her whole.
She bites my shoulder, hard enough to sting, and I feel the bond hum, like an electric line, sparking between us.
Her hoodie goes next, slow and deliberate. She peels it off, arms crossed over her chest at first, but then she lets it drop and lets me look. The sight knocks the wind out of me every time.
She leans in, nose brushing mine. “You’re staring again.”
“I can’t help it,” I say. “You’re…”
“What?”
“Perfect.”
She snorts, like that’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard, but she kisses me again anyway, hard enough to bruise. Her hands are rough, impatient, but her lips are soft and searching. She moves to my neck, sucking a line down to my pulse point, and I feel myself getting dizzy.
I grip her waist, thumbs tracing the indent of her spine. Her skin is damp, heated, and every inch alive with want. She rocks against me, her thigh pressed between mine, and I can feel how ready she is, how the bond has her on a knife-edge.
I pull her up, kiss her hard, and let my hands explore over her ribs and back down to her hips. She moans into my mouth, the sound desperate and open, and grinds harder against my leg.
Her hand drops to my jeans, fingers fumbling with the button. She’s shaking, just a little, but she doesn’t stop. She drags the zipper down and shoves the denim off my hips. We’re skin to skin now, the last layers gone, nothing between us but heat and air.
Her thigh slides between mine, slick and strong. She bites her own lip, eyes never leaving my face.
“Are you going to let me make love to you, songbird?” I ask.
She nods, lifting up on her knees before slowly lowering herself onto me.
The feeling is almost unbearable. She’s hot, wet, and the friction is perfect. I arch up, desperate for more, and she rides the movement, grinding slow and deep.
She kisses me, hard, her whole body vibrating. “I love you,” she says, and the words are a spell.
I repeat it, “I love you,” and it’s truer than anything I’ve ever said.
She moves faster, hips rolling, and I meet her every time. My hands grab her ass, pulling her down harder. She moans, a sharp, broken sound, and I feel myself getting close, the edge right there.
“Wait,” she says, breathless. She slows, rocking instead of thrusting, and reaches between us to touch herself. I watch, hypnotized, as her fingers circle, as her body tightens, as her breathing goes wild.
She’s so beautiful it hurts.
She comes first, shuddering and gasping my name. I follow, the heat rushing out of me in a wave. We collapse together, tangled, panting, every nerve still singing.
The nest is a ruin, blankets kicked aside, pillows on the floor, but it doesn’t matter. She’s draped over me, head on my chest, hair damp with sweat. I stroke her back, slow, tracing every bump of her spine.
She kisses my collarbone, softly, then lays her head down.
Her cheek is pressed to my chest, hair damp with sweat, one hand sprawled over my heart as if she’s afraid it might run away without her.
I should be tired, or spent, but as soon as I feel her move, a tiny grind of hips, a hitch in her breath, my cock twitches to attention, eager and shameless.
She stirs, mouth brushing my collarbone. Her eyelashes flick, and then her eyes find mine, dark and wild in the glow of the fairy lights.
I kiss her, softer than before, but the heat underneath is unmistakable. Her fingers trail down my chest, mapping every line, every flaw. She finds my cock, hard again and leaking, and strokes it once, slow and possessive.
“Insatiable,” she murmurs.
I groan. “How could I not be with my girl around?”
She laughs, and the sound goes straight to my head. “True,” she says, “but I’m not complaining.”
Now she’s above me, hair falling in my face, her hands pinning my wrists to the mattress. She lines herself up and sinks down in one motion, taking me inside again. The sensation is so intense I almost black out.
She rides me, slow and controlled, grinding her hips and watching my face the whole time. I can’t look away. Her body is art, every muscle alive, every movement calculated to destroy me. She leans forward, kisses the scar on my jaw, bites my earlobe, then whispers, “You look so sexy under me.”
I grip her hips, bruising, and thrust up to meet her.
The sound of our bodies, skin on skin, the wet heat of her, the quiet slap as we move together, fills the nest. The mattress creaks, the fairy lights flicker, but there’s nothing in the universe except the two of us, locked in this perfect moment.
She comes again, and this time she doesn’t scream. She clenches so tight around me that I can’t hold back. I spill into her, body wracked with pleasure, every nerve lit up and burning.
We collapse, tangled, shaking, and breathless.
For a long time, there’s only the sound of our hearts racing as she nuzzles into my side.
I kiss her forehead, the bridge of her nose, the little cut on her lip from when she bit down too hard. “Mine,” I say, and she smiles.
“Yours,” she agrees, “but only if you’re mine, too.”
“Deal.”
We drift again, the world outside the bus irrelevant, and the future so bright it hurts to look at.