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So why haven’t we had sex a single time since I came home?
“It’s fine,” I say. “I’m fine.”
“You’re very obviously not fine.”
“I’m—“
“Talk to me about what happened with Luka,” he interrupts.
I chew on my lip more aggressively than I probably should, wanting to avert my gaze. I know that’ll just tip him off that he’s on the right track—and then he’ll be like a bloodhound, pursuing it until I come clean. So I push myself up to a seat, backing away slightly but keeping my eyes on him.
“I think it started much longer ago than that,” I murmur.
“Then tell me all about it.”
“I think…” I trail off, looking down at the rumpled bedspread. “You know, when I first came to Pacific City, I was immediately taken into custody by the Eclipse. And I went into my first heat, and they…”
I pause, swallowing hard.
“Well, they did what they do to omegas.”
Oberon says nothing, doesn’t even reach for me. He stays steady, listening.
“And then I got my implant, got sent to Dreamland, and it just…kept happening. So I turned off the part of my brain that said it was wrong, and I learned to enjoy it. And it didn’t matter if I didn’t want it, because I had to stay alive and I could use my body to make that happen.”
I run my hands over my legs, my fingers curling on my knees. “My body has been a weapon my whole life…and also the most vulnerable thing about me.”
I look up at him.
“Is this making sense?”
Oberon nods, brow furrowed. “It is…and I feel like an asshole.”
“Why?”
“Because I used to want you so bad, and it never occurred to me that you would fuck me purely because you had to if you wanted to live.”
The silence rings out between us, stretches, turns into a beast all on its own. I reach up to tangle a finger in my hair, twisting it so tight it almost hurts.
“So…no, I’m not fine,” I shrug. “I’m figuring out how to be myself and to…I don’t know, enjoy my body without it turning into a weapon or a wound. This whole thing, every inch of skin…it’s an open sore, Oberon. And I want you so bad, I want to touch you, but I can’t stop being afraid.”
“How can I help?”
I look at him, cocking my head. He’s lying there, looking like a god with his gold skin, wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts and gazing at me with bedroom eyes.
“Lie back,” I whisper. “And don’t knot me…whatever you do, don’t knot me.”
Oberon lets out a harsh breath and lies down, and I try my best to ignore him as I strip off my clothes. I can practically feel the tension rolling off him, smothering me.
Maybe I don’t want to do this.
But…one day, I’ll go into heat again. And I’ll want him so bad, and I do want him right now, and this is so fucking hard—
“You don’t have to do this,” he says, his voice low.
I glance up at him, naked now. “Shut up, Oberon.”
His lips curve in a wicked smile as I crawl over the bed, my hair hanging down around my face. I don’t make for his groin, though, as tempting as his hard cock is in those thin shorts; I move to his face, sling my leg over it. His hands come up to grasp my thighs, but I shake my head and bat them away…and it feels like power when he grips the blankets instead.
