She nuzzles against my stomach, my chest, pressing closer, claiming me with every movement. Her eyes flick up at me, pouty, mischievous, daring me to lose the last bit of self-control.
I do.
I tilt her against me, lips finding hers in a harsh, demanding kiss. She responds immediately, body melting against mine, hands clutching at my stomach, tugging me closer.
“Finally,” she whispers against my mouth, and it’s all I can do to stay upright. “Ryker.”
Her fingers slide over me, dragging me closer to the edge I’ve been holding back from. They press into my chest, slide over my belly button, and then up again to twist my nipples.
“Holy fuck, Omega!” My hands press into her hips, my mouth moving to her neck, and the ache in me snaps, a growl deep in my chest.
Every instinct, every Alpha urge is screaming for her, and I finally give in, letting the heat between us take over completely.
She cries out, back arching, hips pushing, every motion dragging me deeper. My hands roam, mouth following, claiming everything she offers.
Her thighs are slick under my fingers, trembling, tightening, clinging to me. I drag my teeth along the waistband of her soaked panties, tugging just enough to tear them.
The smell of her chokes me, and I lap at her, tasting her, needing her in a way that makes my stomach twist and my knees weaken.
My towel slips. I don’t care. I grab myself, long, hard strokes, lost entirely. My eyes are on her face, watching her shiver, watching her fingers clutch the sheets, watching her body pulse under me.
She twitches against my mouth, a shuddering, ragged wave. Each spasm drills straight into my chest, setting fire to every nerve ending. She cries out, voice broken, hips jerking, nails digging into the mattress.
“Again,” I growl deep in my chest. “Again, Omega.”
Her scent curls up, thick and heavy, and I can’t fight it. I shouldn’t want to fight it.
Her hands rake over my arms, her nails grazing my skin, marking me without thinking, an invitation I can’t refuse. Every mewl, every moan, every sharp inhale she throws out twists me tighter, curls my stomach in knots of need.
I press harder, teeth finding soft skin along her thigh, mouth moving in a frenzy, heat climbing, claws gripping her hips, pulling her flush to me. Then, a sound I don’t expect, cutting through the haze.
“What the fuck…”
I freeze. My head snaps up. Dorian and Jude are in the doorway.
I hadn’t even noticed them.
Their faces are pale, stunned, eyes wide, like they just walked into a hurricane. My hands are still on her, mouth still hot against her skin, pulse racing, blood pounding through me like molten metal.
“I… I couldn’t help myself,” I manage to rasp. My throat is raw from groaning her name, from biting, from losing control.
Before they can process, I jerk my gaze back down, pulling her close again.
Her thighs are slick, pressing against my hips, and I want—no, I need—every inch of her. She’s writhing under my hands and mouth, pulling me closer with every twist of her hips.
Her scent is all over me now, marking me, claiming me as much as I claim her.
“Are you okay?” one of them asks.
I hear her whisper, “Yes.”
I look at her. She’s playing with her tits now, bra off. Dorian swallows. “I need to take your temperature,” he says.
Her eyes look up. I growl, stroking myself, mouth still on her. She moans softly as she rocks her pussy into my mouth.
The thermometer in Dorian’s hand doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.
“What are you doing?” Dorian’s voice cracks a little as he kneels.
