His soft laughter as his eyes meet mine touches something inside me that isn’t completely sexual. We freeze for a moment, our eyes locked on the other, and my heart swells, my chest hurting at the fullness. I break the spell between us, averting my eyes, because the emotional impact of that connection is too much, and my physical needs are my focus right now. After reaching to unclasp my bra, it falls to my feet like a white flag. I’m surrendering. In one swift moment, he sweeps me up like a bride into his arms and carries me through the kitchen. His eyesnever leave my face, yet he doesn’t run into any wells or corners. He presses his lips to my cheek, my forehead, behind my ear, but never my lips, and I can’t help but wonder why.
When he reaches the doorway to my bedroom, he pauses. “Is this okay?”
“Yes.” I nod fervently before burying my face in his chest. The warmth of his skin and the scent in the soft hairs there soothe me more than anything I’ve ever felt before.
He steps over the threshold to my room and something solidifies between us, a trust that I can’t help but give him.
He inhales deeply, and a rumble vibrates through his chest. “You smell so fucking good.”
“I don’t see how. I—oh!”
I stare around the room, inhaling as well, and realize the whole room smells of me. Of my attempts at relief last night.
He lays me carefully on my ruffled covers, and I settle against the pillows, planting my feet on the mattress and bending my legs at the knee. “I didn’t even make my bed this morning.”
The scent becomes stronger as we stir up the covers.
“We’d just mess it up again anyway,” he teases as he climbs onto the bed.
I catch a glimpse of his hard, weeping dick. The moan that follows is feral, wanting, and his eyes flash with a matching want.
“Darian, I’m not going to fuck you today.” He sits back on his haunches between my legs.
If I closed them, I could pretend my knees are squishing his head, which I’d love to do because his words anger the beast inside me. The comforting hum of home now dissipates into frustration, and I hiss in disappointment. “What happened to taking care of your girl?”
He chuckles, tracing his hands over my breasts. “I will take care of you because you need me to and it’s my responsibility as your alpha.”
“So you don’t really want me?”
“Oh, I want you. I’ve wanted you for longer than you can imagine. But I won’t fuck you. I won’t kiss you. I won’t make love to you until you want me to rather than just need me to.”
I have no answer to that, because he’s right. I don’t necessarily want him. I don’t even know him. I just need his touch in a way I’ve never needed anything.
His thumbs flick over my nipples, teasing them until they stand erect, and then he leans his body over mine to take one peak into his mouth, sucking and twirling his tongue around it until I’m wriggling my ass, attempting to press against him, but he holds his body above mine, unflinching.
His hand trails down my stomach, pausing to press a palm against my lower abdomen. He releases my nipple with a pop. “Not this time, but one day I will fill this belly with my seed. I can’t wait to see you carrying my children.”
His words register in my brain, but I don’t have the mental capacity for that conversation right now. Hopefully I’ll remember later.
His fingers move lower and now he’s the one groaning. “You’re so fucking wet. Is this all for me, baby?”
I whimper in response, unable to form words as he parts me and finds my clit like he’s done it a million times before. His tongue darts out to flick my nipple, and he finds his rhythm on my clit in strong circular motions. I wince and he lessens the pressure.
“Perfect,” I whisper.
He grins up at me wickedly, giving my breast a break. “You are absolutely perfect. These magnificent tits, this ass.” He cupsa cheek with his other hand, never wavering with his fingers. “You are a fucking goddess, Darian.”
As he’s staring up at me, worshipping me, my lips ache for more. I crave the connection of kissing, of our tongues intertwining. But he says he won’t kiss me or fuck me until I want it.
And I know this is still just my need. My heat, as they call it. The beast roars pleasantly inside me, as if I’ve accepted her presence.
With that acceptance and the way Aarick works my body, I’m suddenly flushed, my breathing ragged as the heat builds within me, my whole body once again on fire. I pray to whatever’s out there, to Aarick, that this will satiate my need. He moves faster and faster, twirling his fingers around my clit like he’s been making me come for years. Sex has never been bad, and I’ve always had orgasms, but this is different. This is like he knows exactly the amount of pressure, how much to move, and when he ducks his head to lick my breasts again, I explode, the orgasm racking my body. My arms and legs shake as pleasure rips through me, my hands tangled in Aarick’s hair, pulling him against me. It’s as if the heat disappeared, my body finally at ease after almost twenty-four hours of torture. I’m like jelly, sprawled out on the bed, holding his head against my chest. I twirl my fingers in his hair, and he’s still not moving, but I can feel him breathing.
“Are you okay?” He finally breaks the silence, glancing up at me.
“Am I okay?” I giggle. “I’m more than okay. That was…the best orgasm anyone’s ever given me.”
He breathes out forcefully. “No, I know that was good.” He flashes me a grin. “I mean, mentally. When you’re in heat… I just want to make sure you’re mentally okay.”
