Page 169 of Pack Rivals: Part Two
One’s missing.
Pulling my arms and body out from under the heavy bodies that encase me, I sit up in the bed, peering around as my head spins and my pussy throbs.
“Axel?” I whisper.
“Right here sweetheart,” he says from the couch. He’s the only one of us clothed, still dressed in the pants and shirt he wore home from the hospital.
“What are you doing all the way over there?”
“You know over there is where I want to be but …” he glances down sheepishly at his side.
“We can be gentle,” I whisper, crawling on wobbly knees towards the end of the bed.
“The others are in rut, sweetheart, and I don’t want to bust open these stitches. They’re very nearly healed.”
“You’re not in rut?” I ask.
He closes his eyes and groans and I take it that he’s damn well close, hanging onto any sanity by the skin of his teeth.
I drop down onto the floor and I hobble towards him, having to stop once to close my eyes and catch my breath as my head spins so fiercely, I’m sure I’m going to fall.
“Omega,” Axel says right by my ear, catching my elbow, and steadying me.
I lean into him, burying my head beneath his chin, rubbing my body against his solid one and inhaling his scent.
“Alpha,” I murmur.
“Come on, sweetheart, back into bed.”
I growl, absolutely refusing to be separated from him.
“You’re no good on your feet.” He peers at me with obvious distress, caught in indecision about what to do.
I push him gently towards the sofa with a look I hope tells him how determined I am.
“Want you,” I pant, and his eyes darken as he sinks back down onto the sofa and I crawl onto his lap, straddling his thighs.
We’re back here again, just like we were in his car. Only now I’m not fighting anything, I’m no longer hesitating, I’m not harboring any doubts. I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life.
“Have me,” he growls, “have every piece of me, Omega. Take it all.”
I lock my gaze with his as I thread the buttons of his shirt through their holes and gently tug his arms out of the sleeves. His wound is covered in a bandage, taped to his skin and I bend down and kiss it, lingering there for a fraction of time.
“Thank you,” I say.
“For what, sweetheart?” he says, his voice low and gruff now. He’s losing his grip. He’s falling into rut.
“For saving him. For saving Angel.”
He hesitates. “I didn’t do it for you, sweetheart.” He strokes the pad of his thumb along my collar bone. “I didn’t even do it for this pack, or Molly or my Mom.” His eyes flick up to meet mine. “I did it for me.”
“I know,” I say, my hands stroking down his chest and over his abs to the waist of his pants. He shivers against my touch, his breathing becoming heavy as I undo his belt, lower the zipper and reach inside to free his cock.
It’s warm in my hand, warm and velvety and hard as steel.
“I’ve waited so long for this,” he whispers almost to himself, as I rise up on my knees and slam down hard on his cock.
We both groan and I fall forward onto him, biting his shoulder.
