“Do you want to let our hands move over your skin?” he went on, unhurried, “To enjoy touch the way an omega is meant to enjoy it. Touch that feels good, because it’s wanted, not because it’s taken.”
My teeth caught my lower lip, drawing it into my mouth as the low pulsing grew stronger, and a pressure built between my thighs. My scent shifted, answering his questions despite my silence. His nostrils flared, as a knowing glint entered his eyes.
“If you don’t want that,” he said evenly, “then nothing changes. We stop here. There are no conditions. You’ll still be safe and protected.”
“But if you want pleasure,” Knox said, leaning forward, “we’ll help you learn it again. Slowly. On your terms.”
He paused.
“Fromus.”
His words should have spiked my anxiety. Instead, a flickerof curiosity and something dangerously close to excitement rooted in me.
“Think about it and try to get some more sleep. We have a few hours until sunrise,” Knox said, already turning his attention back to the window.
I settled back down, relaxing against Silas, but my thoughts circled endlessly on Knox's words.
To let our hands move across your skin without fear.
A shiver ran through me.
Just as my eyelids grew heavy and sleep started taking hold, Silas’s arm slid around my middle. The movement was unconscious, reaching for my warmth in his sleep. His hand rested on my torso, my clothing the only barrier between his fingers and my skin.
He pulled me closer, and I felt the hard press of his body against me.
I gasped.
The bulge of his swollen knot.
I froze. Emotion crashed through me all at once, nerves and arousal tangled together until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.Part of me wanted to lean into it, to enjoy alpha touch the way other omegas did, because it felt good. Because my body was made to crave it.
Some omegas maintained their virginity, believing it made them more valuable during pack placement. Purity still mattered to a lot of alphas, especially the wealthy, possessive ones looking for something untouched to claim.
I had never cared much about that. The idea of saving myself so some future alphas would see me as more desirable had always felt wrong to me. I didn’t want to hand anyone anotherreason to think they owned me.
So before my capture, I’d had a few tentative, fumbling sexual experiences. A couple of beta boyfriends in high school, boys who understood sex about as little as I did. Awkward moments in the backseats of cars, nervous touches, testing boundaries and figuring out limits together. I’d only had sex a handful of times. It had never been life-changing, but it had never been frightening either.
But my handlers werenotboys.
They were men.
Alpha men.
And Marco had destroyed the confident, sexually curious version of myself I had once been growing into. Intimacy had become something I associated with fear, pain, and survival. I never thought I would want it again. Never thought I would crave touch instead of flinching from it.
Until them.
Until Knox's promise whispered in the dark.
We’ll help you learn pleasure again. Slowly. On your terms.
Heat sparked between my legs at those words, followed by that slow, aching throb, causing my breath to catch in my throat.
Silas’s hand slipped beneath the hem of my sweater, his touch teasing and gentle, brushing bare skin as if testing my reaction. I could tell he was being patient, despite his impulsive nature.
A small whimper escaped me.
Was it a plea for more or less?
