He’s sleeping inches away from me, the scents of praline and green apple teasing my senses. I can look as much as I want, and I do.
My eyes slide over his bare chest. Although he runs, he has a gym-honed, chiseled body, packed with muscle, rather than a lean runner's build. Most alphas do. Biology didn’t just give them more dominance than omegas and betas; it gave them the strength to enforce their wants.
Last night, he was in a t-shirt and dark gray shorts when he carried me up to his room and tucked me into his bed. I liked it much more than I probably should have, fresh from an ex who lived to control me. The rational side of my brain hadn’t said a word. The submissive omega side of me liked the way he took control of the situation and of me. He hadn’t asked. He’d seen I was tired, carried me up to his room, and wrapped his hard body around me.
I’ve been wanting to nest more these last few days. Bare skin against silk and cashmere. Self-indulgent snuggles on the couch with the alphas, I mentally call mine. Cheek against cheek, my hand slipping under their shirt when we’re watching TV.
All I seem to want is to be wrapped up in soft coziness.
Sex with Elias and Wyatt must have burned off some of the sexual need that had been building inside me. But last night, in Knox’s arms, I had wanted to rub myself against him until he rubbed back.
It’s early. There’s no alarm clock to tell me what time it is, and I don’t want to move around looking for his phone in case I wake him. I’m not even close to being done looking. He must have gotten up at some point to strip the clothes from his body. It’s all on show now. As if just for me. Hard lines, chiseled abs, light brown nipples, all inches away.
My hand stretches toward his chest, fingers hovering over golden skin. He kicks off so much heat, I want to crawl over him and steal just a little of it for myself.
Curling my fingers, I start to pull back. He’s asleep. If I touch him, Iwillwake him up.
“You can touch.”
I startle at his husky voice rumbling from his chest.
My eyes flick to his face.
His eyes are closed, lashes forming dark shadows on his cheeks. As if he feels me watching, he opens them and turns to look at me.
“I said you can touch,” he repeats, his voice rough from sleep.
Cheeks hot, I pull my hand from his chest without touching and grip the sheet I shoved off my body as I slept. He kicks off so much heat I would never need a comforter in his bed. “I thought you were sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“You wouldn’t have.”
“When did you wake up?”
Gray-green eyes go on a slow journey over my face. “When I felt you moving around.”
“I was going to get up,” I say unnecessarily.
It’s also a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that, right?
His mouth quirks, and his right eyebrow raises slightly. He’s much better at reading me than I am him because I think he knows I’m not telling the truth.
“Why didn’t you?” he asks instead of calling me a liar.
“Do you want me to go?” I start to get up.
His fingers circle my wrist, and he tugs, keeping me in his bed. “That isn’t what I asked.”
His tone is direct, and his gaze is always so commanding. It doesn’t scare me or remind me of how controlling Derek was. This is a man who knows what he wants, and his tone reflects that he isn’t shy about saying it. But he won’t hurt me. I haven’tbeen afraid of him since he stood up too fast in Nico’s too-small office, and my heart lurched.
“Why did you take your shirt off last night?” I ask, wanting to distract him.
Amusement warms his gaze, catching me off guard.
“What?” I ask as my lips curl instinctively, mirroring his.
“You’re a chest girl,” he declares.
Cheeks burning, I scowl at him. “I amnota chest girl.”
