His nostrils flare slightly, jaw tense, and something primal flickers in his expression.
I shift, instinct trying to tug my knees back together, but he refuses to allow me to hide from him. His hand finds my thigh, warm and steady, holding me open.
When his eyes lift back to mine, there's nothing mocking in them. Nothing smug, just that same look of awe, like I’m something he never thought he’d get to see. And that should terrify me, how vulnerable I am under his stare. But it doesn’t.
Because the only thing I feel in this moment is wanted. Claimed. And maybe…safe.
And that’s more terrifying than anything.
It’s a fear I don’t get the chance to explore because Rennick lowers himself between my thighs, his hands braced on either one to keep me open for him. When his mouth finally meets my pussy, the first stroke of his tongue slow and testing, I nearly come off the bed.
My hands fly to the sheets like they can anchor me, and I fist them as a noise slips out of me.
A mixture of a whine and a whimper.
It’s like ringing the fucking dinner bell for him.
His answering groan is low and guttural, vibrating against my slick, sensitive flesh. The sound is appreciative mixed with unfiltered hunger, and it tells me this isn’t just for me. He wants this. Want to tasteme.
My thighs, stiff and instinctively trying to block him out, fall open the rest of the way. All pretense of modesty or hesitationdissolves as his hands slide to my hips, holding me steady as he begins to devour me.
He starts slow. Deliberate. Exploratory like he’s savoring every part of me, mapping me with his mouth, one stroke of his tongue at a time. Each pass is intentional, like he’s committing every reaction to memory.And maybe he is. Maybe this is him learning what makes me come undone.
But it doesn’t stay careful.
Whatever restraint he had at the start unravels quickly. His, and mine. He licks and sometimes bites, scraping his teeth across my clit in a way that makes me believe angels exist. I can’t hold still. My hips jerk, seeking more friction, more pressure.More. I arch into him, a mess of heavy breathing and heated need. And when his thick finger circles my opening, dipping barely inside before retreating, I pry my eyes open and look down to find him already looking up at me from under his thick lashes. His irises look like liquid metal as he holds the eye contact and pushes his finger inside, my body adjusting to the intrusion like a fucking duck to water, and before soon, I’m begging him for more. For more of that delicious stretch. The feeling of fullness. In the back of my mind, my omega taunts that it won’t feel like enough, that only a knot can really fill that void, but I shove it away, wanting to enjoy this.
There’s only one thing I can say. One name that keeps slipping from my mouth.
“Ren…”
I’m close.
It builds low in my belly, a pressure that climbs steadily, spreading through my limbs like licks of flames. My thighs tremor, hips tilting to meet the pulse of his mouth, the movement of his fingers. The warmth grows until it’s everywhere—unrelenting, consuming—and then I let go.
And I fall.
The orgasm tears through me, his name once again ripped from my throat. It’s the only thing I can cling to while my body seizes with blinding pleasure. But he doesn’t stop. Not when I start to quiver, not when my nails claw for something to hold, slashing at his shoulders and scalp. His mouth stays on me, fingers moving in perfect rhythm, coaxing every aftershock until my body begins to unravel. Until I’m limp.
It’s only when start to lethargically mewl in protest from the oversensitivity that he slows. His touch gentles, guiding me down with tender care.
I’m still reeling, breath coming in shallow pulls, when I hear his curse—guttural and strained. Then his teeth sink into the skin where my thigh meets my hip, a sharp nip that doesn’t break skin but is like gasoline to my immerging instinct’s fire.
I jolt, not in pain but in something that’s treacherously close to need. My omega howls for more. For permanence. For the mark. I want it. I want to wear it like a badge. I shove the thought down, try to ignore the way my body arches toward the bite, already missing it when his mouth pulls back.
That’s when I hear it.
A voice that isn’t mine in my head.
“My mate. My omega. My sweet Noa.”
I lift my heavy head, chest still heaving, and meet his eyes.
He’s staring at me, gaze molten. His lips are wet, slick with me, and his tongue flicks out, licking the corner of his mouth like he refuses to waste a drop. The sight makes heat pulse between my legs again, like I’m already craving more. Still not done.
Oh, Goddess, he’s created a monster.
He rises slowly, standing tall at the edge of the bed. The front of his borrowed sweats is dark. A wet spot. The way he’d groaned before pressing his teeth against my flesh floats back to me. Rennick Fallamhain, great pack Alpha, came in his pants.It’s almost endearing, and it makes my core throb with…is that jealousy?
