"Are you sure?" I had to ask, even though every part of me begged us to keep going. "You're still recovering."
He pulled me down. "I want you."
That was all I needed to hear.
SEVEN
ZALE
Hawthorn’s mouth was at the base of my throat, kissing and lapping. His lips on my skin sent a searing heat over my body.
I arched my neck instinctively, giving him more access. My fingers threaded through his hair as if I was trying to anchor myself to this moment. His scent enveloped me and made my knees weak as it had on the night we met. Now it was even more intoxicating as though it was pulling me toward him and I couldn’t escape. Not that I wanted to.
The lamplight cast a haze over the rumpled sheets where I’d slept earlier in the day. Though my fever had broken, my body sizzled where he touched me.
"Hawthorn," I whispered, my voice was husky and barely recognizable to my own ears.
He hummed in response, the vibration sending blood to my already engorged cock. He lifted his head just enough to meet my gaze. His piercing dark eyes locked on mine, and my breath faltered. This was real, not the relationship my parents had tried to foist on me.
"You feel so good, Zale," he murmured, his breath hot against my skin. One hand slid up my side, tracing the curve of my ribsbeneath my sweatshirt. "I've wanted this since you walked into the bakery. Not just your body, but all of you."
His words melted something inside me. As an omega in my family, I'd been taught to expect possession, not partnership. But Hawthorn was different with his stolen glances and patient teaching that built a foundation of trust.
Now, here in his arms, I believed him. I reached up, cupping his face, feeling the rough stubble against my palm.
He smiled, a rare, genuine smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes, and he leaned down to capture my mouth in another kiss. It started slow with his lips moving against mine. I parted for him, tasting the faint salt of his skin, and our tongues met in a dance that was both familiar and thrillingly new. His arousal pressed against me but he wasn’t ripping my clothes off, not yet. He was taking it slow, savoring every second as if we had all the time in the world.
My hands roamed over his back and I pushed his shirt up and over his head, revealing his taut torso and a small scar across his midsection. I traced it with my fingertip and he shuddered under my touch.
Hawthorn’s fingers peeling away my sweatshirt until cool air kissed my bare skin. My pants and briefs followed. I experienced a moment of vulnerability, laying there naked and exposed. But it vanished when he dipped his head again.
He trailed kisses down my chest while lingering over my collarbone, then lower, to the flat plane of my stomach. I gasped as his tongue flicked out, tasting me, and I couldn’t ignore the warmth that was making my skin tingle.
I brushed away a moment of doubt about the future and wrapped my legs around his waist, drawing him closer. The friction was exquisite as his hardness pressed against me through his pants. He groaned into my mouth, and itemboldened me to undo his zipper. He helped me and shimmied his pants off.
Now he was naked and I couldn’t take my eyes off his thighs and the V of his hips leading to the patch of dark hair and his thick length. I reached for him, wrapping my hand around the shaft. He hissed and his eyes closed.
"Zale, gods, that’s so good."
"Tell me what you like," I whispered as I stroked him. It was empowering, seeing this alpha coming undone. He opened his eyes, locking on mine, and guided my hand with his own, showing me the pressure and the pace he liked.
"Just like that," he breathed, then pulled my hand away. "But I want to take care of you first."
His body covered mine and his skin was hot against my own. He kissed me deeply, his tongue exploring my mouth as his hands roamed over my body, touching, teasing, and driving me wild with desire.
He moved lower and his mouth found my nipple, teasing it with his lips and teeth until I arched off the bed. His hand slipped between my thighs and he circled my entrance. He pressed one finger inside me and curled it.
Pleasure surged through me in a dizzying rush.
"Hawthorn, please."
I didn't know what I was begging for, but he guessed. He added a second finger, stretching me slowly, his thumb working circles over my most sensitive spot. Waves of desire built inside me while I gasped and writhed on the mattress.
"You're so responsive," he murmured against my skin. "I love seeing you so open for me." His words were like a balm, so soothing, and erasing any lingering fears about what tomorrow might bring.
I clutched at his shoulders and dug my nails into his skin as the pressure built.
"I'm close," I panted, and he increased his pace, his mouth claiming mine again in a kiss that swallowed my cries as I shattered. Ecstasy washed over me, leaving me limp and trembling in his arms.
