“Bonding’s off the table,” Ben says firmly. “We’re not doing that to you. Not like this.”
Something loosens in my chest.
“We’ve got you, Tessa.” Milo moves closer, crouching at my eye level. “Knotting and biting are two different things. I can give you what your body needs without bonding you.”
“And if I beg?”
“Then I say no.” No hesitation. “We all say no. And we keep taking care of you until the need passes.”
I look at Elijah. He nods once. “No biting. You have our word.”
I sag with relief. “Okay. Okay, then I need—” The next wave hits and I whimper, curling in on myself. “God, I need someone to touch me. Please. It hurts.”
Elijah moves first.
He settles beside me in the nest, his weight dipping the mattress. His big hands are gentle as he cups my face, tilts it up to look at him.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “Just breathe.”
Then he kisses me.
It’s nothing like Ben’s kiss from before. Elijah kisses like he has all the time in the world. Slow, thorough, his tongue tracingmy lower lip before dipping inside. He tastes like coffee and honey, and I melt into him, my hands fisting in his shirt.
He hums against my mouth—approval, encouragement—and his hand slides down my neck, over my collarbone, down to cup my breast through the flannel. I gasp as his thumb finds my nipple, circling it through the fabric until it peaks.
“Sensitive,” he murmurs. “Good.”
He pushes the flannel open and I arch into him, desperate for more contact. When his mouth closes over my nipple, I cry out. The sensation is electric, shooting straight to my core. He sucks and licks and grazes his teeth over the tight peak while his hand works my other breast, and I’m writhing beneath him in seconds.
“Elijah.” I tug at his hair. “Please.”
He lifts his head, dark eyes questioning. “Tell me.”
“Lower.” I’m panting. “I need you lower.”
He holds my gaze for a moment, making sure. “You sure?”
I nod, desperate. “Yes. Please.”
He moves down my body. Presses kisses to my ribs, my stomach, the jut of my hipbone. When he settles between my thighs, spreading them with his big hands, I hold my breath.
His eyes go dark as he looks at me, and a low growl rumbles in his chest. The sound alone makes me clench.
“Elijah...”
He presses a kiss to my inner thigh, right where the slick is glistening. “Let me take care of you.”
And then his mouth is on me.
I scream.
He doesn’t tease, doesn’t make me wait. Just buries his face between my legs and devours me. His tongue drags through my folds, circles my clit, pushes inside me. He eats me out like it’s all he’s ever wanted to do, like he could spend hours between my thighs and never get bored.
He groans against me, the vibration making me shake, and his grip on my thighs tightens.
I’m already close. The heat has me wound so tight that every lick, every suck, sends me spiraling higher. My hands fist in his hair, not sure if I’m trying to push him away or pull him closer.
“Elijah, I’m going to...”
