Page 48 of Run Omega Run
A fierce understanding lit in his eyes. His body held mine as if possessing me meant everything to him. And then he kissed me again, slower but deeper, a kiss that swallowed reason whole.
My knees softened, my fingers uncurled. I leaned in until our shadows merged on the wall behind us. His palm pressed against the small of my back, drawing me closer until I could feel his heartbeat through my shirt. When his lips brushed mine, they lingered for a breath... not demanding, just waiting. I closed my eyes, and the room disappeared.
Chapter 20
Heather
Iwoke with the taste of him still on my lips.
For a moment, before the day pulled at me, I let myself stay there, with my eyes closed, heart racing as if his mouth were still pressed to mine, as if his hands were still circling my waist, anchoring me in that fierce, consuming kiss. Heat pooled low in my belly, sharper than any dream. I pressed my fingers to my lips, shivering at the memory.
God, I wanted him again.
The orphanage was quiet, with only the soft sound of children snoring in their beds. My body thrummed, restless, still aching from the way he’d kissed me—hungry, claiming, like he could drink me down. My thighs pressed together, chasing the ache, but it only made me more aware of the emptiness, of what I wanted filling me.
Suppressants or not, I knew what this was. Heat, need, hunger. They were all tangled together now, awakened in a way I couldn’t smother. Not with pills. Not with distance.
When I finally pushed myself up, my body protested, heavy and weak with want. The kitchen kiss had carved itself into me, and I couldn’t tell if it steadied me or shattered me. Maybe both.
I caught sight of myself in the cracked mirror by the door. My hair was tangled, shadows under my eyes, but my mouth wasswollen, lips bruised from his kiss. The sight stole my breath. For the first time in years, I didn’t look broken. I looked wanted. Desired. Alive!
The children stirred, soft voices breaking into laughter as they clambered from their bunks. I forced myself into motion, entering the main room, and Bennett was there.
He stood by the window, sunlight cutting across his shoulders. His eyes lifted, finding me instantly, and the air between us tightened like a pulled string.
I forgot to breathe.
His scent captured me in its wake. I needed him. I needed all of him, all of them. Biting my lower lip, I squeezed my thighs together, wondering if he tasted as good as Dante did. If his kiss would be strong or soft, sensual or hard. My body responded before my mind could, heat flooding me so suddenly I had to grip the doorframe. He saw it. I knew he did.
And the hunger in his gaze told me he needed me just as much as I needed him.
Searing lava trailed through my body, igniting my core. At first I thought it was just leftover hunger from the kiss, from Dante’s mouth pressed hard to mine, from the way my body had been humming with need ever since. But this, no, this was different. Hotter. Darker. Like my blood had turned molten and was trying to tear through me.
I folded over at the kitchen counter, my nails clawing at the wood, a strangled cry breaking free. Heat bloomed under my skin, the merciless fire of need turning my bones hollow. I shook, sweat slicking my temples, my thighs clenching around nothing as if that could hold the fire back. It was useless. My body knew what it wanted, what it needed.
A sob tore free. “No, no, not now—”
Strong arms caught me before I crumpled.
Bennett. His peppermint scent hit me first, and my heat-starved body screamed for it. “Heather.” His voice was rough, but steady, the way he always was. “It’s starting.”
I could barely lift my head to look at him, sweat slicking my hair to my face.
He wasted no time. I heard the buzz of his phone, his clipped words. “Becky, we need you. The kids—yes, now.”
