He follows soon after, his rhythm faltering as he finds his own release, my name a prayer on his lips as he pulses within me.
For a long moment, we stay like that, our bodies connected and our ragged breaths in sync, his forehead resting against mine. Then he carefully withdraws, gathering me into his arms with a tenderness that contrasts sharply with the passion of moments before.
"That was amazing," he breathes. "You're fucking amazing."
"So are you," I murmur. I have to admit, I never really imagined sleeping with an omega, but it wasn't something that crossed my mind at all when we were together, and now… now I'm starting to realize designation doesn't really matter. I've never felt so desired with anyone before, alpha or beta. "Holy shit."
He laughs, the sound vibrating through his chest where my head rests. "Eloquent, aren't we?"
"Mmm," I murmur, too content to form proper sentences. "Words are overrated."
His arms tighten around me, and I can feel his smile against my hair. "We should probably move to a more comfortable location."
"Probably," I agree, making no effort to move.
"Your bedroom?"
"Down the hall, first door on the right."
He scoops me up effortlessly, carrying me through the apartment like I weigh nothing. It should feel ridiculous. I'm a grown woman, perfectly capable of walking, but instead, it feels... right. Safe.
And that's the most terrifying part of all.
Because as he lays me gently on my bed, climbing in beside me with a smile that makes my heart flip, I know I'm in trouble.
Deep, serious trouble.
I'm falling for him. For Darren Malloy, professional hockey player, newly-presented omega, member of a pack that clearly has serious issues with me.
I am so,soscrewed.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
DARREN
Iwake to unfamiliar softness beneath me and the subtle yet alluring scent of pumpkin spice filling my lungs. For a moment, I'm disoriented. This isn't my bed with its firm mattress and utilitarian sheets. This is softer, with a warmth pressed against my side that I'm not used to.
Then it all comes rushing back. Lexie. The park. Her apartment. The dining table and that pile of sweaters we desecrated.
I crack open an eye to find her curled against me, her reddish-brown hair spilling across my chest, one arm thrown over my torso. Morning light spills through curtains she never fully closed last night, casting a warm glow over her sleeping form. Her face is relaxed in sleep, those expressive brown eyes hidden, lips slightly parted.
She's beautiful. So beautiful it hurts just to look at her.
I've never woken up with a woman before. Not like this. My hookups have always been brief, efficient encounters that end with me returning to my own space. The pack house. My apartment before that. Always alone, always in control.
This is different.
Lexie stirs, her body stretching against mine in a way that immediately reminds certain parts of my anatomy that we're both still naked. I try to will away my body's response, not wanting to seem like some horny frat bro who can't control himself, but it's a losing battle.
Her eyes flutter open, confusion flickering across her features for a split second before recognition dawns. "Morning," she murmurs, voice husky with sleep.
"Morning," I reply, suddenly self-conscious. Is there a protocol for this? Should I have gotten dressed before she woke? Made coffee? "Sleep okay?"
She smiles, the expression soft and genuine in a way that makes my heart stutter. "Better than I have in months, actually." Her hand strokes down my chest, seemingly unaware of the effect it's having on me. "You?"
"Same." It's the truth. Despite the unfamiliar bed and the lingering awkwardness with my pack, I slept deeper than I have since before the concussion. Since before everything changed.
