Page 47 of Heat Lightning

I gripped him tighter for balance and breathed in his calm, soothing presence. My fingers fisted in the material of his hoodie, and I melted, all the softness of my body pooling against the hard planes of his like we were always meant to fit together.

We were the solid and liquid states of the same matter. One match. One pair. Our chemistry so attuned, splitting us apart would have devastating consequences.

Mate, my omega whined. We belong with mate. Let’s stay right here forever. Make a nest and invite him in; he’ll claim us and give us pups, and we’ll be safe forever and ever and ever.

An objection to that fantasy flitted through my mind before it whipped away like a cloth on the wind, never to be seen again. Why wouldn’t I want to stay right here in his arms forever? He was safe and warm, and probably tasted good…

My mouth fell open, tongue darting out to flick his palm. Salty leather greeted me, and I moaned. It would’ve given us away, except the vacuum started up again in the other room.

“Shh,” he whispered, but it felt more like a caress than a scolding. There was a slight tremble in his voice, revealing I wasn’t the only one affected by our proximity. “Have to stay quiet, otherwise we’ll be discovered.”

I imagined someone finding me writhing and moaning against the Masked Man, maybe even on my knees, drooling and crying with his cock in my mouth. It should’ve repulsed me; it should’ve been enough to jar me out of my heat-muddled thoughts.

Instead, slick dripped down the back of my thigh.

Oops.

Oh, yeah, I thought distantly. I’m only wearing a robe.

He groaned, and his other hand gripped my nape. Leaning down, he pressed his face against my scent gland and inhaled deeply through the knit material of his mask.

My eyes fluttered shut, and I gasped.

Instead of shushing me, he pressed the pad of his thumb against my lips. “You like that, don’t you?” he asked, mouth pressed against my ear. “You’re a mess for me already, just thinking about being discovered together. Do you want to be watched? Do you want everyone to see how sweet you are for me?”

I shook my head no, but the vacuum turned off again, and this time he pushed his thumb past my lips, pressing on the pad of my tongue. The omega in me went boneless, rolling onto its back in submission. I sucked on his thumb to keep myself quiet, languishing in the tangy taste of leather and alpha.

It was overwhelming and yet nowhere near enough. I wanted to lap the coppery warmth from his skin, from his chest and stomach and that space between his thigh and groin. I wanted to suck it from the swollen base of his cock and lap the salty cum from his weeping tip.

I wanted. I wanted.

As if he sensed my thoughts, teeth pricked my skin through the knit material, and his cock, hard and hot through his pants, pressed into my thigh.

Oh, I was in trouble now. So, so much trouble.

Because instead of bleating in terror like a normal person who found themselves trapped in a closet with a vigilante alpha, I suckled his thumb harder and hitched my leg to the side, finding his gaze in the dark just when he slotted more firmly into the cradle of my thighs.

The black of his blown pupils swallowed any hint of blue. I shivered, rendered immobile by the hunger and possession I saw, but it only made me want him more.

Mate, my omega whined. Mate mate mate mate mate.

He shuddered and ground his pelvis into mine, and the bulge in his pants swelled even larger.

The water in the bathroom turned on, and then off, pulling me back to reality. Why did I care about that? What a silly thing to dwell on when, instead, I could lift the bottom of his mask just enough to expose his neck and taste him there, too. Right from the source.

I bet he’d be the best thing I ever put my mouth on. Even better than hot, gooey brownies, or salted butter, or⁠—

“Sweetheart,” he panted. “Sweetheart, she’s gone. She left.”

“Hmm?”

He ripped his thumb from my mouth like I’d bitten him. “Out. We need to get out of this closet right now, or I’m going to—” The pantry door clacked loudly when he flung it open, throwing himself into the aired-out kitchen.

Stepping out behind him, I blinked in the afternoon light, surfacing from the syrupy haze of want just enough to process what’d happened. What did he mean⁠—

Oh.

My eyes dropped to the bulge in his pants. Holy fuck. He was that hard, that big just from rubbing against each other?