Something behind his eyes breaks, his gaze turning dark and wild.
“Fuck, Luna...”
Then his mouth is on mine, hard and desperate, his tongue licking deep into my mouth. One of his broad hands spreads wide between my shoulder blades, the other cupping the side of my face. He walks me backward, his heavy weight driving me until my spine hits the timber wall, pinning me completely.
“Off,” I gasp, my hands fumbling at the hem of my shirt.
“Let me.” He does it himself, slow, his knuckles dragging slowly up my ribcage. He unhooks my bra and his mouth closes over my nipple, sucking hard, a loud moan slipping out of me. Fresh slick is already drenching my thighs, and when his hand slides down into my leggings, his fingers finding me dripping and swollen, his breath stutters against my neck.
“Beautiful,” he rasps, his fingers sliding deep, drawing a gasp from me. “You’re soaked.”
“So I passed the modified starch test,” I whisper, a breathy laugh catching in my throat.
He laughs, too, but it turns into a growl when I wrap my fingers around his hard cock through his jeans, again.
He presses me down onto a folded canvas tarp in the corner, stripping my leggings off. He shucks his jeans before kneeling between my thighs, leaning over me to notch his wet tip against my opening. Then, he pushes in slow, the sheer width of him stretching me until the air is knocked clean out of my lungs.
“Yes,” I sob, arching my back. “Stretch me.”
My omega is completely satisfied, purring so hard my sternum vibrates with it. I lock my legs around his waist, and he drives the rest of the way home, a deep, unified groan tearing from our throats. Every single thrust is heavy and bottomless. The base of him is already beginning to fill, the swelling knot catching at my entrance, dragging over a spot that whites the world out.
Good girl. That’s it. Let me.My nails dig into his shoulders. The coil inside me cranks up, tight and unbearable, past the reach of thought.
Then his knot swells to its limit, locking him deep inside me, and I come apart on a cry. He follows me seconds later with a sound torn straight from his chest, his hips snapping flush against mine.
I keen, my inner walls clamping down around him as he fills me past capacity, spilling into me while we both lie locked together and shaking on the canvas.
Bram drops his forehead to mine. His chest heaves. His thumb strokes along my cheekbone.
“There she is,” he breathes.
We stay locked together, breathing, his weight a roof pitched over me. My omega has gone boneless and unbearably smug. I scent-mark his throat, dragging my cheek along the leather and the coffee until it’s mine, until it’s all over me, and his purr starts up under my ear, an enormous low rumble I feel in my back teeth.
For a while there’s nothing in my head at all.
Eventually the knot eases. He goes soft and slips out of me slowly, taking his shirt to gently clean me up. Then, he places my leggings within reach, and presses his mouth to my forehead.
And that is when something hits me, coming up out of nowhere. A wave that starts behind my navel, right where his knot was, and rolls up through the whole of me. It’s hot. It wants. It cramps suddenly, my whole body clenching down around the nothing where he just was.
And a whine comes out of me, high, thin and entirely involuntary.
Bram goes still.
“Luna.” Bram’s hands frame my face. I can barely hold him in focus. “Hey. Look at me. What’s happening? What do you need?”
What do I need?
It’s almost funny. There is exactly one thing in the entire world, and it has a very short name.
I drag him down onto me. “More. Knot.” My voice comes out low and rough.
The last thing I see clearly is his face changing, the worry burning off it into something dark and focused.
Then his mouth is at my throat, and white closes up over my head.
37
Ash
