"Your first," he says, and there's primal male satisfaction in his voice that makes my inner omega purr with contentment.
"How did you know?"
"The way you responded. So pure, so eager, so perfectly responsive." His thumb traces my bottom lip, still swollen from his claiming kiss. "Everything about you is untouched, Maya. Made for me."
Made for me. The words hit something deep in my biology that I don't understand but can't deny. My body agrees completely, still humming with need and recognition and the desperate urge to submit to this massive alpha who makes me feel precious instead of inadequate.
But that's not omega biology. That can't be. This is just... attraction. Powerful, overwhelming attraction to someone who finally sees my worth.
Untouched. The word should make me feel ashamed of my inexperience, but from him it sounds like the highest praise. Like my virginity is something precious instead of embarrassing. That this incredible Fae male—ancient, powerful, impossibly beautiful—wants me, ordinary human Maya, feels like a miracle I can't fully comprehend.
"I've never... I mean, with David, we never got that far," I admit, my cheeks burning. "He said he needed someone with more experience."
Something dangerous and distinctly inhuman flickers in Thorian's eyes—a flash of predator that reminds me exactly what he is. "David was a fool who couldn't recognize treasure when it was offered to him."
A Fae king calling me treasure. The impossibility of it makes my head spin.
"But maybe he was right. Maybe I don't know enough, can't offer enough?—"
"Maya." The authority in his voice cuts through my self-doubt immediately. "David couldn't appreciate what he had because he didn't understand what truly matters. Your inexperience isn't a flaw—it's a gift. Your eagerness to learn, your willingness to surrender, your complete trust—those are precious beyond measure."
The words hit exactly where I need them to, healing wounds I've carried for years.
"You really think I'm..." I can't finish the sentence, can't voice the hope that's building in my chest.
"Perfect for this work? Exactly what I've been looking for? The answer to everything I need?" His voice drops to that honey-warm tone that makes my pulse race. "Yes, Maya. I think all of those things."
I lean into his touch, desperate for more of the contact that's becoming as necessary as air. "Can we... could you kiss me again?"
His smile is warm and possessive and completely alpha. "As often as you like, little scientist."
The second kiss is different from the first. Where the initial one was claiming, this one is devouring. He guides my mouth against his with firm pressure, shows me how to respond to his dominance, rewards every tentative attempt with deep groans that make my omega biology sing.
"Good girl," he growls against my lips, and the praise combined with his alpha scent makes something deep inside me clench with need. "So eager to learn, so perfect at surrendering."
My body responds to his voice like he's speaking directly to my DNA. Heat pools between my legs, more slickness coating my thighs, my nipples so hard they ache against my dress. This must be what intense attraction feels like—this desperate, mindless need for his touch, his scent, his approval.
Not heat. Not omega biology. Just overwhelming desire for the first man who's ever made me feel wanted.
"Thorian," I whimper, pressing closer to his massive frame. He's so big I could disappear into him completely, and the thought makes me even wetter. "I need..."
"I know, little scientist." His enormous hands slide into my hair, tilting my head back so he can claim my mouth more thoroughly. "I know exactly what your body needs."
When his tongue invades my mouth again, I open for him completely, instinctively. Every part of me is screaming to submit, to let this perfect alpha take care of everything. The kiss becomes desperate, hungry, his control slipping just enough that I can feel the predator underneath the gentle teacher.
By the time we break apart, I'm shaking with need and completely lost to sensation I didn't know was possible.
"That was..." I try again, but words still feel inadequate.
"Your introduction to real intimacy," he says simply. "The beginning of understanding what your body was designed for."
Designed for. Like I was created specifically to respond to him, to find satisfaction in his touch and approval.
"Is this part of the training?" I ask, though I'm not sure I care what the answer is.
"Everything is part of your preparation, Maya." His thumb strokes across my kiss-swollen lips. "Learning to find pleasure in submission. Discovering what it means to surrender completely. Understanding that your satisfaction comes from mine."
The words should probably worry me—they're so far from the academic research I thought I was here for. But looking into his eyes, feeling the way my body responds to his smallest touch, I can't bring myself to care about the implications.
