I wish he knew how perfect he is.
He doesn’t think he’s a very good mate, a good alpha to his omega, but I argue that every time he even feels the slightest bit of doubt.
Because he’s always taken care of me, always done things like this for me, even before we realized what we were to each other.
He left me the note because he knew I’d be hurt and a little concerned when I woke up without him, and I couldn’t love him anymore for it.
God, I love him so much.
Finishing up, I dry my hands and reread his words, grinning like an idiot at myself in the mirror before I take the note down and carry it into the bedroom with me.
I’m not showering.
Normally, that would make me crazy.
I shower at least twice a day, every day, and that’s a habit that formed as soon as I was able to vocalize my need to be clean, but this is different.
I don’t want to wash away his scent, I don’t want to get rid of any part of what happened between us, not when I have no idea what the future holds. I need this to last as long as possible because I don’t know when it will happen again.
Setting the paper on the dresser, I take out a pair of sweatpants and thick socks, pulling them on before I go in search of my alpha’s hoodie. Which is exactly where it’s been since he pulled it off the night I went into heat: tossed carelessly on the end of the couch while he rutted the hell out of me.
My cheeks heat and my belly dips at the thought.
He has never been a gentle lover, not really. Partially because we usually have to rush, but mostly because it’s not in his nature. Rough, hard, fast. Restraints and pain, edging followed by a pleasure so great it’s hard not to become delirious and sob. He fucks the way he does everything else; aggressively and with a fire that is all consuming. It’s been like that since the first time when I was seventeen, and I wouldn’t change it for anything.
The first night he was here, something was different in him, I could see it the second he walked in the door, and for the first time since we’ve been together, he made love to me. It was slow and sweet; it was emotional. It was beautiful, really, and I know if I told him that, he’d tie me to the bed and fuck the thought out of my head but that’s what it was. He made love to me,wemade love, and it was perfect.
It did not, however, last.
As soon as I went into heat, as in the very instant it hit, he was in a rut so hazy it probably would have scared me if I hadn’t been out of my own mind and sticking my ass in his face begging for it. I was, and so was he, and he had me naked and flippedover the arm of the couch so fast neither of us knew what was going on. Then he damn near fucked me into the floor through the cushions and wood.
We broke the couch.
Broke it badly from what I can see now.
Something else I don’t want to explain to my mother when I get home. I’m grateful my alpha started to come out of his rut by the thirty-hour mark, otherwise we might never have made it to my nest and I’d have a hell of a lot more to explain to Mia Kozlov.
I grab the all-black hoodie and lift it to my face, closing my eyes as I take in more of his scent before I pull it on over my head and hug it to my body. Then I roll my eyes because he was right, it took over a decade and my very first real heat for me to truly become an omega, presenting at fourteen be damned.
I’ve never had an issue with my designation, I embraced it as soon as I knew, but according to most people, I don’t act like an omega.
I don’t really know what the fuck that means, but I’m assuming it’s because of how I’m built and what I dofor a livingto put it plainly.
Jail time for drug-running and illegal gambling, trafficking, arms deals and assault. I’ve done very little time for those things, less than I was supposed to, and I’ve never had a murder charge stick despite the bodies attached to my name. But this is the only life I’ve ever known.
And I’m the only omega in the family business, so I guess I turned out like this because I grew up in it.
But it’s always weird when it gets pointed out, and he likes to point it out.
Just like he said I didn’t start acting like a real omega until the last few months, and that was most likely because I’d been planning this specific trip the entire time.
Standing here with his hood pulled up over my head and the collar just over my nose, I can see what he means. I’ve never been more omega-ish than I have right now.
Oh well.
I don’t really care, not when I’m so fucking happy.
Filled with dread, but happy.
