Page 84 of In Deep
I’ve never come in a heat, never known what it would be like. I’ve read plenty of accounts, stalked the omega discussion boards. I know the pain and the frustration is enough to drive an omega to the edge, but the pleasure … the pleasure is like nothing imaginable.
My orgasm rips through my body and every other orgasm I’ve had pales in comparison. My body wants this alpha, it wants to be fucked and knotted and filled with his come. I tell him. Tell him that’s what I want. That I want him to bite me, make me his. That I want my belly filled with his seed.
I’m wild. Wild with lust. And I have no control over my mind, my body, or my mouth.
Thank goodness he does. Although I can see it takes every last drop of his self-control. He groans every time I make my demands, thrusting harder, fingers digging deeper.
“You think I don’t want to, little Omega? You think I don’t want to bite you and taste that sweet-smelling gland of yours? The one that’s been driving me out of my mind for months. Your scent is like a drug to me. You know how hard I’ve worked to keep control around you. To not grab you by the hair and drag you to the floor and fuck your brains out. Shit! Shit.” He stutters, his thrusts frantic, and then his body spasms, and he fills me like I want him to, his knot expanding immediately. The usual pain I feel as I’m knotted in this way is missing – another advantage of the heat – and all I feel is satisfaction and the need for him to hold me close.
He releases my leg and lowers himself down on top of me. We’re both coated in sweat now, his T-shirt sticking to his body. He wriggles it off, and I see the tattoo scrawled across his left pectoral. Over his heart is a pair of oars crossed at their centres. A mirror image of the charm Zane gave me.
He glances down at me, fingering the charm I’m still wearing, uncertainty in his eyes.
“I’m OK,” I say, before he can ask. “In fact, I’m more than OK.” I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. It’s a little more tender now, an action that tells me how he’s feeling.
After a moment, he tips his head away and smooths the damp locks of my hair from my face. His eyes are a dark brown. So dark they’ve often appeared jet. But now I see the depths of the colour, the way it lightens to the hue of young wood at the rims, the golden specks that float in his irises, catching the light.
Then I realise. I blink. How had I missed it?
“It was you,” I whisper, “in the library. It was you watching me.” All that time, I thought it was Zane. But it wasn’t. My body has always responded to Seb’s presence. Aware of his domineering proximity, heating my blood, electrifying my skin, even though my mind hadn’t understood it.
He rubs the calloused pad of his thumb along my cheekbone. “Yes. It was me.”
“Why?”
“Zane told us about his … encounter with you.” He smiles, and I realise it’s the first time I’ve seen the expression on his face. It softens his features, brightens his eyes. “That there was this new omega we’d not met who smelled like heaven. I went to check you out for myself. I meant to introduce myself. But then I got a lungful of your scent and,” he looks a little sheepish, “it drove me wild. I didn’t trust myself.”
“So you didn’t introduce yourself …”
“No, but I couldn’t stay away either. You were fucking intoxicating. So I sent Harrison as a go-between instead. I wanted to do things properly, the old-fashioned way.” He flicks his gaze away. “But you said no.”
“You sent Harrison?” I frown in confusion.
“And then Zane asked you out, and you said yes to him. And to Duncan and to Ollie. You wanted the rich boys.”
I shake my head. “Harrison never said who sent him. I always assumed it was Zane.”
His eyes meet mine again, and he peers into them as if he’s searching for the truth.
“I’m not her,” I say. “I’m not here because of money. I’m here because of you.”
“Yes,” he closes his eyes and groans and a fresh shot of his come floods inside me, “And the others?”
“I think I’m falling in love with them,” I admit.
I want to ask him more. About what this means for us and for the pack. But I don’t get the chance as several pairs of footsteps come thundering down the stairs.
Chapter 25
“Is that smell what I think it is?” I hear Zane call from the stairway.
“It certainly smells like it,” Ollie groans. “So fucking sweet.”
Seb yanks a sheet over our bodies and rolls us onto our sides. We both glance towards the doorway in time to see the other three members of the pack halt at the bottom of the stairs.
“I got a whiff of her in town,” Seb says to them all as they gape at us, “as well as the scents of some alpha following her.”
“I’m not surprised,” Duncan drawls, “she smells so ripe.” The others growl in agreement, their eyes hungrily assessing me.
