Page 63 of The Florist and Her Alphas

Sixteen

EZRA

“You fed my brothers very well,” I tell my spent and tired omega.

Liana is light in my arms, her body warm through the silk robe, her cheek pressed against my chest where she can probably feel my heart hammering through my shirt. My cock is already stiffening. Has been since I lifted her off that table. Has been all fucking day, if I’m honest with myself.

I’ve been waiting to knot her again.

My balls tighten as I carry her down the hallway toward my room. My cock lengthens against the front of my slacks, thickening, the head pressing against the fabric so hard I can feel the ridge of the crown through two layers of cloth and pre-cum leaking just for her.

I lightly kick the door open to reveal my dark bedroom. I like it dark.

The single lamp beside the bed casts a warm amber circle across the charcoal sheets. The floor-to-ceiling windows show the city beyond the glass, cold and distant, forty-seven floors of nothing but air between us and the ground.

I set her down gently on the edge of the bed.

The silk robe pools around her hips, emerald against charcoal, and her auburn hair fans out across my pillowcase. The lamplight catches the freckles on her shoulders, turning her skin gold. Her lips are parted, her eyes wide with excitement. I can smell how eager she is with my alpha wolf senses, which are much more heightened with an omega in heat.

Slick gleams on her inner thighs from dinner, shiny and wet, running in thin rivulets down to her knees.

The failed claiming scar is visible on her forearm.

“You look like a queen on my sheets,” I say, my voice coming out rougher than I mean it to. “You belong here. I want you here from now on.”

She trembles. Her thighs shift restlessly against the linen, and the silk falls open at her hip, exposing one bare leg all the way up to her waist. I can see the curve of her hip bone. The soft, pale skin of her inner thigh, slick-shiny, her pussy just visible where the robe opens.

“I would like that,” she whispers, and the sound of it does something to my chest I cannot name.

I stand at the foot of the bed. My hands go to my shirt as I unbutton it slowly, one button at a time, and I watch her watch me. Her eyes track my fingers. Her tongue darts out to wet her lower lip, and my balls tighten so hard, so fast, that I have to grip the bedpost with my free hand.

The wood creaks under my grip.

My cock jerks against my slacks, and for one wild second I think I might come on her thigh before I’ve even touched her, and the thought is so fucking embarrassing I have to close my eyes and breathe through it.

Control. I have control. I have always had control.

The shirt comes off my shoulders. I drop it on the floor without looking. My belt next. The buckle clinks, loud in the quiet room, and I slide the leather free of the loops. Her eyes drop to the outline of my cock. They widen. Her lips part. Her breathing gets shallow.

“Do you like what you see, baby?”

“I didn’t get a good look the first time,” she breathes, letting out a small giggle. “You’re big. I’m actually a little nervous now just looking at your cock through your pants.”

I’m about to fuckin’ cum right now if she keeps looking at my cock like it’s some sort of delicacy.

“Don’t be nervous, hun. You took me in your asshole, baby,” I remind her, as I step out of my slacks and boxers.

My cock springs free, thick and hard and veined, the head dark red and leaking, and Liana makes a small, desperate sound in the back of her throat that goes straight to my raw dick now exposed.

I climb onto the bed, between her parted legs.

The mattress dips under my weight. I run both palms up her shins, slow, feeling the delicate bones beneath her skin. Up her knees. The outside of her thighs. The silk is cool under my hands, and beneath it, she is burning with heat.

“I need your knot, please,” she says in a breathy whisper.

“I know you do, baby. Just open your legs for me a little further.”

I push the robe open as she widens her thighs apart, giving me a clear view of her open pussy.