And beneath it all are the sounds she’s making.
Moans that fracture halfway into whimpers. Small, gasping breaths torn from her as wave after wave of unsatisfied need crashes through her body. Each noise torn from her without consent, pulled loose by a body that’s asking for more than it can withstand on its own. Every sound is a reminder that she’s been in this alone for too long.
My feet take me toward the closed closet door and my eyes snag on the large, decorative mirror leaning against the wall. My skin is streaked with blood and dirt. Both things I swore I’d never intentionally track into the pristine nest she’s taken so much tender care to build, but right now, clean sheets don’t matter. She does.
She’s been without me for too long, weathering the first brutal waves of her heat on her own. Something that is dangerous for her to try and bear by herself.
I send up a wordless prayer that she’ll forgive me for soiling her nest and step into the closet.
The sight waiting there empties my lungs.
Because of the warm string lights Noa meticulously strung across the space, I’m able to make out every detail laid before me.
My mate lays curled into a tight ball, completely naked, atop the layers of soft fabrics, stolen clothes, and cushions. Her flushed, pale skin gleams with sweat and the strands of her dark hair stick to her damp temples.
She hears me enter. Her unfocused eyes try to track me, but I can’t be sure she’s truly seeing anything at all—not with the way her body trembles with need while simultaneously fighting to stay conscious. She’s too overwhelmed by sensations her fragile body can’t keep up with.
Even with everything else happening, it’s the sight of her fingers thrust between her clenched thighs that undoes me. She’s trying to press them into her swollen, aching pussy, desperate to quiet the hollow ache that can drive an omega to the brink of madness. Her hips grind against her touch, searching for fullness she won’t find that way. Not with her fingers. Not with mine.
She needs a knot.
Myknot.
And then she needs my bite.
In that order.
I close the door behind me and move toward her. On my way there, I snag a dress shirt that didn’t match the criteria for her nest off a hanger. It’s expensive. I don’t give a shit. I use it to wipe away the blood and grime from my skin as best I can without soap and water, scrubbing until only faint traces remain. When I reach the edge of the nest, I toss the ruined shirt aside.
I don’t ask permission to enter this time. She’s beyond being able to give it.
“I’m here, sweet Noa,” I murmur, hoping the sound of my voice reaches her even if the meaning doesn’t. “I’m going to make it better, baby. I promise.”
I drop to my knees in the nest and move fast. My hands close around her ankles and I draw her toward me, rolling her onto her back and straightening her bent legs. She whimpers immediately, delicate features tightening as the small relief she’d found in being curled in on herself is stolen from her.
Murmuring low, the sounds soothing, I try to halt the panic starting to rise in her.
Then my fingers close around her wrist that’s still working frantically between her thighs.
The moment I pull it free, the abrupt loss of the stretch her fingers provided has her snapping. A sound I’ve never heard from my gentle mate tears from her throat, vicious and feral, all wolf. She jerks her wrist free from my loose grip and strikes, nails dragging across my bare chest, heat flaring where skin breaks.
The copper tang of my blood joins the heavy scent of her slick.
“Feisty thing,” I breathe, approval threaded into my voice. My wolf, who still presses close to the surface, also approves of her violent outburst. Even if it was directed at me.
She snarls again, striking blindly, but this time I’m ready. I catch her hand and settle myself between her spread thighs.
“Let’s see how much fight you’ve got when I give you what you crave—my cock buried in you.”
The answer is not much.
In one smooth thrust, I plunge deep into her swollen cunt, half-swollen knot and all. She cries out at the intrusion, but not in pain. In pure, unfiltered ecstasy.
She comes the moment I’m fully seated, her body clenching and shaking around my dick as I stay still, buried as deep intoher as I can get. She’s been hovering on the brink for so long, chasing a release she couldn’t achieve on her own, that all it took was being stretched by my length to set her.
She’s still trembling, riding the aftershocks, when pull out, leaving only my weeping crown buried, and then sink into her again. I find a steady rhythm, one that has another climax building in her before the first has even finished waning.
Omegas are built for back-to-back orgasms and knots during their heat—both things the only source of relief she’ll get until this is over.
