Page 32 of The Librarian and Her Alphas

“Look at me,” Gunnar growls, his voice carrying that hint of alpha command that speaks directly to my inner omega wolf. “Look at what you do to me.”

I swallow hard, slowly raising my eyes to look at him. “Oh my god.”

“That’s better,” he says, his tone softening slightly. “I want to see your eyes when I tell you what I’ll do to you.”

“You talk too much,” I manage to say, a feeble attempt at maintaining some semblance of control over the situation. But Gunnar’s lips curve into a dangerous smile.

“Do I?” He drops to his knees before me, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his skin, but not touching me yet. “Would you prefer I show you instead of tell you?”

“I…,” My voice falters as he leans closer, his entire body overwhelming me.

“You what?” he prompts, one hand reaching out to trail feather-light fingers along my collarbone, down to the curve of my breast. “Tell me what you want, omega.”

The word ‘omega’ sends another pulse of heat through my core. Coming from him, it sounds less like a biological designation and more like a term of possession.

“I don’t know,” I whisper.

“Liar,” he says softly. His finger circles my nipple without quite touching it, the anticipation nearly as maddening as the touch would be. “Your body is very clear about what it wants. Look how wet your pussy is. It’s dripping for me.”

I glance down involuntarily, seeing the evidence of my arousal glistening on my inner thighs. My cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“It’s because of my heat,” I mutter, a weak defense.

“Is it? Then why did you respond so beautifully while I was in wolf form? That’s not just any omega's reaction. You dripping for me is something special,” he chuckles as he runs his finger between my pussy lips. “Something between you and me specifically."

“You’re imagining things,” I say, but there’s no conviction in my voice.

“Am I?” he challenges, his hand sliding down my stomach, tracing patterns on my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Open your legs wider for me.”

My body betrays me, thighs parting further of their own accord, offering him an unobstructed view of my very wet pussy.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and the praise sends a thrill through me. His hand hovers just above my pussy, not quite touching. “Tell me you want me.”

“Oh my god, Gunnar, please,” I say, pushing my hair back with a shaky hand.

“Please, what?” he interrupts, his voice dropping lower. “Be specific, omega. I want to hear you say it.”

The challenge in his eyes is unmistakable. It’s humiliating and arousing in equal measure.

“Please,” I repeat, my voice barely audible even to my own ears.

“Not good enough.” His fingers brush tantalizingly close to my clitoris. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you, Lena.”

“I want…” I swallow hard, gathering my courage. “I want you to fuck me. With your cock. I want your knot.”

The crude words feel foreign on my tongue, but saying them aloud sends another rush of slick between my thighs.

“Look at me and say it again,” he commands, his hand resuming its slow strokes along his length. “I want to see your face when you beg for my cock.”

“Why should I beg? You want this as much as I do.”

His hand suddenly grips my chin, not painfully but firmly enough to hold me in place.

“Because I said so,” he states simply. “You’re an omega in heat, and I’m the alpha who’s going to satisfy you. And because—” his voice drops to a whisper, “—deep down, you want to beg for it. You want to surrender completely.”

The truth of his words resonates through me, striking a chord deep down.

I meet his gaze directly, no longer hiding.

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