Page 38 of Reckless: Chaos

The words hit something primal in me, something that recognizes this alpha even without the chemical bonds of claiming. My body yields to him instinctively, even as my mind catalogs every sensation, every response. The medical monitor chirps a warning as my heart rate spikes, but I’m beyond caring.

His fingers part me with devastating precision, teasing sensitive flesh while his tongue works patterns that make stars dance behind my eyelids. Each touch feels electric, heightened by the knowledge that this isn’t pack bonds or claiming bites making me respond—it’s pure chemistry between an alpha and a beta who shouldn’t fit together but somehow do.

“So fucking responsive,” he growls against my inner thigh, the vibration making me whimper. “Even without a bond, your body knows who you belong to. Who takes care of you.”

My response dies in my throat as he adds delicious pressure, his other hand still pinning my hips to keep me from moving myshoulder. The dual sensation of restraint and pleasure has me seeing stars.

“That’s it,” he growls as I start to tremble. “Give it to me. Show me how good I make you feel.”

His tempo increases, each stroke perfectly timed to push me closer to the edge. I’m vaguely aware I’m babbling his name, mixing it with curses and pleas, but I’m beyond caring.

“So fucking beautiful,” he breathes, watching me with that predatory focus. “Coming undone for me. Because of me.”

The possessive growl rumbling from his throat sends a shiver down my spine, clawing its way through every nerve ending until I’m trembling like a fucking leaf. His fingers—those goddamn fingers—curl inside me with a precision that feels criminal, twisting justso, hitting that sweet fucking spot that makes my vision blur and my thighs clamp around his hand like a vice. I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but feel the relentless pressure building in my core, coiling tighter and tighter until it’s unbearable, until I’m begging for release with a voice that doesn’t even sound like mine.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice thick with dominance and lust, his lips brushing against my ear as he works me harder, faster, deeper. “Come for me. Let mefeelit.”

And just like that, I fuckingshatter. My back arches off the bed, my hips bucking wildly as the orgasm rips through me like a goddamn earthquake, leaving me shaking and gasping for air. Every muscle in my body clenches around his fingers as he drags it out, milking every last fucking drop of pleasure from me until I’m nothing but a whimpering, trembling mess. His fingers don’t stop, not even for a second, fucking me through the aftershocks with a ruthless rhythm that has me screaming his name like it’s the only word I know.

When I finally come down from the high, my body still twitching and trembling, I open my eyes to find him staringdown at me with a look that makes my stomach clench all over again. His eyes are almost completely black, the amber barely visible around the edges, and the sight of them sends a fresh wave of heat crashing through me. His chest is heaving, his skin glistening with sweat, and I can see the bulge in his pants straining against the fabric, begging for release.

“Still with me, Glitch?”

“Barely.” I manage to pry my fingers from his shirt, noting the new wrinkles with satisfaction. “You’ve been practicing that in your head, haven’t you?”

“Every minute they kept me from you.” His voice is gravel and glass, control fraying at the edges. “In that waiting room, going out of my mind...” He presses his forehead to mine, breath ragged. “Had to focus on something besides how you looked, bleeding out in Theo’s arms.”

The raw confession hits harder than any painkiller. I reach up with my good hand, tracing the shadows under his eyes, the tension in his jaw.

“I’m okay,” I whisper. “Still here.”

“Barely.” The word comes out like it hurts. His fingers trail over my collarbone, carefully skirting the bandage. “Do you have any idea what it did to me? Watching you take that bullet? Knowing it was meant for?—”

“Hey.” I catch his hand, press it over my heart so he can feel it beating. “I made a choice.”

“A stupid choice.”

“A calculated one.” I arch into his touch as his other hand resumes its wandering. “Besides, seems like I got some pretty good care out of the deal.”

His laugh is all broken edges. “That what this was? Medical care?”

“Very thorough medical care.” I gasp as those clever fingers find a sensitive spot. “I think I need a second opinion though. Just to be sure.”

His eyes go midnight dark. “Greedy Glitch.”

“You love it.”

“Yeah.” The admission seems to surprise him as much as me. “Yeah, I really fucking do.”

He captures my mouth in a kiss that tastes like desperation and relief, like all the words he can’t say trapped between our lips. When he pulls back, his eyes are wild, that careful control starting to slip.

“Rest,” he orders, voice rough. Through the walls, I hear Ryker’s measured footsteps pause outside the door—our alpha checking in without intruding. The mansion’s security feeds probably show him exactly where everyone is, a tactical display Finn updates obsessively since the shooting.

“But—”

“Don’t push me.” The words come out on a growl that makes the medical monitors chirp a warning. “Not when Finn’s got those machines programmed to alert the whole pack if your heart rate spikes too high. Not when I can smell traces of your blood under the antiseptic, and Theo’s still washing your scent off his hands every hour because he can’t forget how it felt when you went down.”

In the hallway, Ryker’s footsteps resume their patrol route. Downstairs, something clatters in the kitchen—probably Theo stress-baking again. The pack’s anxiety broadcasts through every floor of the mansion like a distributed network, each member processing the crisis in their own way.

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