His hands are everywhere, yet not exactly where I need them as he guides me toward the sofa again. I feel the soft velvet behind my knees before his strong hands guide me down.
I don’t want to think about anything right now; my mind is an empty abyss where only his touch matters. I’ve experienced being in heat before, after our first time together, but it’s never been as intense as this one.
Perhaps it’s because I’d run away from him, and Dawson was nowhere around to entice my inner wolf and draw out my heat in all its intensity. Now that I’m back here after almost six years, in his presence, my innate wolf is screaming and clamoring for him.
That’s why my fingers are tingling with the impulse to claw at his bare shoulders, wanting to ruin his flesh like an invitation for him to ruin my insides and rearrange them so this pain can be gone. When he’s on top of me, his lips remain crushing mine as he works to rip the buttons of his shirt off me.
“Wait, Yvonne…” Dawson says, breaking the kiss as he pulls back. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
I mewl in protest at the loss of his plush lips and his feverish kisses, linking my fingers behind his neck to pull him in as I nod fervently.
Though I’m moved by his question, I’m too ravenous, spurred on by this intense heat, to take heed of any caution. Nothing matters right now—not the past, not the walls I’d built to keep him out, nothing. Those walls come crumbling down in the torrent of my heat, and I splay my thighs open as he accepts my consent and pulls his shirt open. I arch my back closer, pushing my cupped breasts toward him and allowing space behind my back for him to unclasp my bra.
When he does, the rich mounds spill out from the cups as he lifts them over my head, my nipples erect from just the heat of his breath as he leans down. Two large, strong hands replace my bra to cup the firm, voluptuous mounds of my breasts, and he sucks a sultry breath through his lips as if he’s beholding them for the first time, his eyes taking on a heady glint of appreciation. He dips his head to one, latching warm lips over the erected nub to suck and tease my breast.
I gasp at how delightful the sensation is, pleasure rolling in waves as it trickles from my nipple down to my core. Writhing out the way my body feels, I thread my fingers through his copper brown hair, tugging at the roots just as he clamps his teeth on my nipple.
“Oh! Oh, my Goddess!” I squeal, tiptoeing on the line between pleasure and pain, just as Dawson moves to the other side, repeating the act that has my body shuddering for more. As I squeeze my eyelids shut, I let the pleasure flow over me, not realizing that there’s so much more to come when Dawson’s tongue travels down my torso and stops at my belly button.
Gasping, I look up to find him teasing the cave with the tip of his tongue while his fingers hook on either side of the waistband of my panties. He draws it down slowly, calculatedly, watching me through the insanely dark depths that have become his eyes. Glossed over with lust, his tanned skin wears a sheen of light sweat that makes him appear delicious, tempting me to watch him because I know that he’ll be drenched when he’s done working up a full sweat.
Goddess! He’s divine! I lick my lips with only that thought rolling around in my emptied mind, watching him descend on the apex of my thighs when he’s done slipping my panties off my legs. He wastes no time burying his face between my legs, lapping and licking at my wet folds as he breathes in like he’s drinking in the scent of my arousal.
I writhe and squeal, buck my hips and moan, his name falling off my lips like the voice of devotion he administers between my thighs. Every lick, every flick of his tongue against my swollen bundle of nerves, draws me closer and closer to finding soothing for this excruciating heat.
The pent-up desire that’s been building for the past five years knocks into me like a freight train coming full speed down the rails. When it crashes into me, I scream his name, not caring that a demon is circling the hut outside.
Dawson has the nerve to find my experience amusing, chuckling as he sticks a finger through my folds and curls it to tap on the spongy spot deep inside me. Unable to grapple with reality when the motion throws me over the edge, I throw my head back and ride out another climax that syncs with his name rolling off my tongue, other curses stringing along.
When I’m able to find a semblance of sanity, I lift my head, grab the back of Dawson’s head, and pull him in for thehottest, sloppiest kiss ever. He settles between my thighs, using his knees to part them perfectly before using the swollen tip of his cock to stroke my drenched folds.
I break the kiss only to stare into his eyes as he nudges my entrance. Gulping hard, I wait with bated breath for that fateful moment when he enters me.
Because of my heat, my walls are tighter than they were the first time, milking his length desperately as I pull him in. He wrestles against the tightness, but soon finds a pace that works for both of us.
The last time we were here, I was on a desk while he was deep inside me. This time, even though I have my legs sprawled open, the tightness is too much for either of us. Dawson’s face is strained as he stares into my eyes, and he groans, cupping my cheek as he rasps, “I can’t hold it in any longer, Yvie … I’m gonna come….”
Grabbing his shoulders, I nod with encouragement as I feel another tight coil of knots pulling in the pit of my belly. They’re frighteningly powerful, and I would have been afraid if I weren’t hanging onto Dawson for dear life.
A strange sensation surges through me just as Dawson groans, about to release. Every nerve in my body becomes rigid, and my core tightens until Dawson can’t move, staying deep inside me for a few seconds, his cock feeling like it’s swelling even further than his erection. His eyes widen as he seems to realize what’s happening, and it takes me a moment to catch up with the realization of my own, the moment he’s able to move again.
We didn’t just have sex, but we knotted. Unlike our first time together, which was purely us acting on the impulse of baser desires, this time, my heat has incurred something moremeaningful than just sex. My heat is calmed by the process of knotting, which ensures his seed is deep inside me. As the omega, the knotting means that every time I’m in heat, I’ll need this specific alpha to quench my thirst.
The realization seems to soften his eyes just as my body softens and releases him from the tightness until he’s able to slide out. I haven’t fully enjoyed my climax, but my breath comes in hot pants as I feel him leave my folds.
There’s no escaping him now, even when I thought I could hide from him with those walls I’d built. It’s those very walls that come up again, even as Dawson rolls onto his side, scooting between me and the backrest of the sofa before pulling me to his chest.
I close my eyes and wallow in the instant regret that overwhelms me now, and I cling to the walls that have kept me protected all along. I can’t let Dawson in. I can’t let him know that Gio is his son. He can’t know that I was keeping such a big secret from him.
I hear him sighing behind me after planting a kiss on my shoulder, and I tense up. I still haven’t figured out if I can trust him, even if my body and inner omega wolf trust him enough to form a knotting bond.
What if he hurts me again?
I can’t face rejection. Not toward me, or my son….
***
“I felt it coming,” Dawson explains to the gathering of alphas and elders in the pack den. “The dark mist covered the snow, and we heard its screeches and wails outside the hut.”
