Page 26 of Omega's Fire

I don’t scream his name. I won’t give him that satisfaction. But I can’t stop the sounds that tear from my throat, can’t control the way my body clings to his, demanding more, demanding everything.

Nash follows me moments later, his control finally, satisfyingly shattered. He buries his face in my neck, teeth grazing over my scent gland without breaking skin. The feeling sends aftershocks of pleasure through me, my body responding to even the suggestion of bonding.

For an instant, I feel the urge to tell him to do it. Tell him to bite me, claim me, but the moment passes and I keep my mouth shut.

For several minutes, we lie tangled together, breathing hard, neither willing to be the first to move or speak. I’m acutely aware of every point of contact between us, the weight of him pressing me into the mattress, the slight tremors still running through both our bodies.

Finally, Nash rolls to the side, breaking the connection but remaining close. Too close. I should push him away, establish boundaries. Instead, I stare at the ceiling, trying to reconcile what just happened.

“That was...” Nash begins.

“Heat sex,” I finish for him, voice flat. “Nothing more.”

He props himself up on one elbow, looking down at me with an intensity that makes me want to squirm. A smile curves at the corner of his mouth. “Uh huh.”

“It’s the truth.” I meet his gaze defiantly. “One orgasm doesn’t change anything.”

“One?” His mouth curves further in that infuriating smile.“We’re just getting started.”

As if on cue, another wave of heat begins building in my core. Not as urgent as before, but insistent nonetheless. My heat will last at least another day, probably three or four given the compatibility between us. Dozens more encounters like this one. Dozens more opportunities for Nash to wear down my resistance.

The thought should terrify me. Instead, I feel a treacherous thrill of anticipation.

“Next round, I’m on top,” I say, pushing him onto his back and straddling his hips. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it on my terms.

Nash’s hands settle on my waist, his thumbs tracing circles on my hip bones. “Always fighting for control.”

“Always,” I agree, leaning down to bite at his lower lip. “Problem with that, Professor?”

His eyes darken, pupils dilating further. “Not at all, Mr. Torres.”

I kiss him again, hard and demanding, refusing to give him the upper hand even as my body prepares for another round. This is still just chemistry. Just heat. I can give my body what it needs without surrendering anything else.

At least, that’s what I tell myself as Nash’s hands slide up my back, as his mouth finds the sensitive spot beneath my ear, as my hips begin moving of their own accord, seeking friction, seeking connection.

For now, I’ll take what my body needs. I’ll argue with him through every thrust, every touch. I’ll fight to maintain control even as I lose it spectacularly.

And when the heat subsides, I’ll go back to hating him with every fiber of my being.

It’s the only way I survive this.

Nash

I wake before dawn, my body still humming with satisfaction. I reach for Leo instinctively, but my fingers find only cooling sheets and the lingering indent of his body pressed into the mattress beside me.

The bathroom door stands closed, water running behind it, and I allow myself to relax back into the pillows with a smile. He’s in the shower.

I stretch, feeling the pleasant ache of muscles well-used, and smile at the ceiling. My skin bears the marks of the last four days. There are scratches along my shoulders, a bruise at my collarbone where Leo’s teeth caught my skin.

This changeseverything. The thought reverberates through me as I hear the shower cut off, anticipation coiling in my chest.

Four days of heat. Four days of Leo Torres in my arms, in my bed, under me, over me. It was the most intense connection I’ve ever experienced with another human being. It wasn’t just physical, although that was incredible. It was something deeper. Something primal.

The shower stops, and I sit up, eager. The bathroom door opens. The bathroom door opens and Leo emerges fully dressed, his hair still wet. There are water droplets on his neck and I want to lick up each of them with my tongue.

“Morning,” I say, my voice still rough from sleep.

He glances at me then, just a flicker of those blue eyes before he’s moving again, gathering the few belongings he’d scattered around the room during his heat. He doesn’t reply.

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