He’s been on me all night about being reckless.
Would it hurt to be reckless one more time, I wonder?
I slide my fingers up my thighs and lift my skirt until it’s above my panties, showing off the soaked damp spot he caused.
“What are you—fuck,” he hisses, glancing quickly at me. “Sweet fuck.God.”
My inner Omega takes over in a husky, confident voice I don’t recognize. “This is all for you,Alpha.”
His throat bobs as he swallows. “You’re going to fucking kill me,” he says through gritted teeth. “You fuckingtease.”
His anger shouldn’t make my cunt clench as hard as it does. I also shouldn’t be so aroused that I slip two fingers inside my panties, gently rubbing over my slit.
“Don’t—you—fucking—dare,” Travis growls. “Wait.”
The command is deep in his voice, but I still brush my slit one more time, gathering the slick that pools there.
“If you’re going to touch yourself,” Travis says calmly, “you’re giving me a taste.”
Keeping one hand on the wheel, he grips my wrist and pulls my hand from my panties. He presses my fingers to his lips, and sucks both of them clean of my slick.
I gasp, watching as he tastes me. When he finally releases my hand, I place it back on my thighs, squirming with the need to come.
“You’re the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted,” he pants. “Like cotton candy. And the minute I get you inside, I’m destroying you for torturing me for so long.”
My inner Omega is pleased by the sound of that, and I don’t heed the warning for what it is.
I want Travis to destroy me.
By the time we reach the driveway, my body bursting with need, I realize I wasn’t fearful at all of being in the car.
I didn’t watch the roads anxiously.
I just existed with my scent match, listening to my body and craving his touch and taste.
A tiny bit of my fear was conquered, all while being in Travis’ presence.
By the timewe burst through the packhouse, the slick is dripping down my thighs as I kick off my shoes. They clatter to the floor, and we pay no mind to them as he walks me through the house.
He wastes no time opening the door to the spare bedroom and placing me onto the bed gently, even though his scent is potent and the outline of his erection is visible through his dark jeans.
“We could always get you more blankets,” he says apologetically. “Ryland and Rowan are doing a late-night run to get you more supplies.”
I frown up at him, my mind hazy. “At three in the morning?”
He grins, showing off those rarely seen dimples. “I demanded my time with you.”
Sitting up, I unzip his hoodie, shivering at the sudden change in temperature.
“I run chilly during my Heat,” I admit. “I forgot to tell you.”
“I have space heaters.”
He joins me on the bed, still fully dressed, and leans in to kiss me.
It’s not full of desperation like it was at Scents. When he kisses me in the nest, surrounded by blankets, it’s different.
It’s like we have all the time in the world.
