Page 26 of Feeling the Heat: Part Two
Or no, that’s not the last thing I need. Because the worst possible person to be here right now, who I thought was a trick of the eye in my frazzled state, is barging into the room, eyes wild behind his glasses.
“Unbelievable,” I mutter. “You’ve got to be fucking joking,” I say louder.
River doesn’t give a shit about the vitriol in my voice. He closes the distance between us, only pausing when he’s looming over me, chest heaving. “Camille, are you okay?” This close, I get a hint of his dark chocolate scent, more bitter than usual, but still enough to make my stomach cramp again.
I recoil, sliding to the side. “Why do you care? Leave me alone.”
River stays put, his hands bunching into the sides of his pants like he’s having a hard time not reaching out to grab me. His brow scrunches as if he’s feeling everything I am, which, fuck, maybe he is with that blighted bond he gave me. “I can’t. You’re in pain. Please, Camille, tell me what’s going on.”
I shake my head. I don’t care if he’s in pain, too. That’s what he gets for bonding me and then ruining my life. I don’t owe him any information. “Why are you even here? Just goaway,” I snap, wrapping my arms around my waist like I can protect myself from River’s presence.
His jaw works, eyes still blazing with an intensity that has more traitorous slick filling my panties. “I came here to talk to you. To try to explain what happened and to apologize. But Ambrose and Jackson aren’t here, and even if I could find a way not to stick my foot in my mouth and ruin any chances of convincing you to give us another shot, that doesn’t fucking matter because you’re in distress.” River rakes a hand through his hair and takes a half-step closer. “Hate me. Think I’m a monster. It’s okay. I can take it. But please, Camille, please tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.”
It’s all too much to process while an inferno is flaring to life inside me. He came to apologize? Why now? Did he see the stuff about me on social media?
“I don’t need your pity, River. You can figure out your guilt for fucking me over and me ending up the laughingstock of the internet, along with whatever discomfort you’re feeling through the bond, on your own. I have enough shit to deal with to cater to your needs. I’m—fuck,” I groan as a cramp makes me double over. Slick drips down my thighs, and the aroma of coffee breaks past my scent neutralizer.
River’s eyes go wide and his nostrils flare. He steps back like he’s been shocked by a live wire and I think I’ve scared him away when he rushes out of the room, but a moment later I hear the click of the lock to the main bathroom door and he’s back, a deep rumble that’s halfway between a purr and a growl emanating from him.
“You’re having a heat spike,” he rasps, stalking closer to me. I know I should slap his hand away when he reaches toward me slowly, giving me the chance to reject his touch, but my omega won’t let me. She’s in pain and desperate, and there’s an alpha here—the alpha who marked my skin with hisbite and made me come with just his fingers and a handful of filthy words.
“This doesn’t mean anything,” I say weakly, as I let his long, elegant fingers wrap around my wrist and tug me closer.
“I know,” he replies, sadness gleaming behind his eyes.
What the fuck does he have to be sad about?
A small growl rips from my chest at the thought. “I still hate you for what you did.”
River nods as if he understands. Almost like he agrees that I should hate him. The soft vulnerability in his eyes makes me want to melt against him and claw the annoying look off his face at the same time.
His thumb rubs against my wrist where we’re connected, and for a few seconds, neither of us moves. We stand there on the precipice as his thumb swipes back and forth and my pulse hammers.
A tiny whine escapes me as my body begs for more of his touch to soothe the fever inside me, and that snaps River into action.
He doesn’t pull me into his chest like I expect, instead using his light grip on my wrist to guide me into the lounge area. I sag when he lets go, struggling not to whine again at the loss of his touch, but he’s too busy tearing off his suit jacket and setting it down on the couch to notice.
“What are you doing?” I ask as he smooths the fabric out, frustrated that he’s wasting time when he could be touching me and taking away my pain.
He turns back to face me, and my pussy flutters at the way his eyes rove over my body with blatant hunger.
“Taking care of you like I should’ve been doing from the start.” This time when he tugs me closer, he does wrap his arms around me, and molds his lips to mine.
He’s not demanding or aggressive like our firstkiss. It’s far worse than that. Frantic kisses in the heat of the moment I can handle. But River kisses me with such tender longing, like he’s spent an eternity planning exactly how to make me melt for him. Like this means something to him other than assuaging his guilt and discomfort. Like he’s pleading for me to let him help, not demanding his absolution.
River guides me onto the couch to sit on his jacket, which I realize now is there so I won’t make a mess. A flush rises on my cheeks at the thought of getting my slick on his suit, but my omega loves that he’ll be wearing my scent if he puts it back on.
His mouth stays fused with mine as his hands roam down my body, making me arch into his touch as he brushes against my stiff nipples. River swallows down my moan as he rucks the hem of my dress up over my hips and hooks his fingers under my underwear to tug it down.
My perfume explodes in the air between us, and River curses against my mouth as his fingers delve between my thighs to brush against my drenched pussy.
I whine, burning with the need for him to touch me more.
“I’ve got you, angel,” he murmurs, two fingers slipping inside me with ease and his thumb finding my clit as he works me with expert precision. I gush slick around his hand, needing more. Needing him inside me and a knot filling me up to take away the feverish fog suffusing my body.
I chase his mouth with mine, and he groans, low and rough as my tongue swipes against his. It takes less than a minute before my orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave as he rubs insistently against where a knot would fit. I whimper against his mouth as bright, almost painful pleasure bursts behind my eyes.
It’s perfect. It’s like we’re back in his office, when he confessed how much he wantedme and bit me and…
