Winnie
Zeke looks at me like he wants to devour me.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask. I meant what I said—it was both of our faults that the bite happened—but I want us in control this time.
He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “Yeah, Blossom. Since that night, I got a prescription for rut blockers.”
A little shock runs through me. Most alphas don’t go near rut blockers. Too many of them act like it’s a weakness. For Zeke to take them—for me—means something I don’t know how to name.
“Do you want to come in?” I ask. The air’s getting colder, and even though I told Corbin one of my fantasies is being chased, tonight isn’t the time. Zeke nods, and I take his hand, leading him away from the bike and over the threshold.
My little cottage isn’t anything fancy, but it’s mine. It's cozy and quiet. The first place I’ve ever had all to myself.
“Do we need to worry about a roommate?” Zeke asks, glancing around.
I scoff. “Nope. This is actually my first solo place. My last roommate was... questionable. She’s in jail now.”
He raises a brow but doesn’t press. Instead, he shuts the door behind him. I move into his space before I can stop myself. His backhits the door. His arms wrap around me. I rise on my toes and kiss him.
Citrus and steel blend with my roses-and-lilac perfume. He groans and thrusts into my belly, his hard length already pressing through the fabric of my shirt. His hands roam to my ass and squeeze, sending heat curling deep between my legs. I open for him and let him take the kiss deeper. His tongue sweeps in. By the time we break apart, my lips feel swollen, raw with need. We’re breathing each other’s air.
Then I remember something.
“Zeke, my place is really small,” I say. He blinks, not following. “It was made for betas. No formal nest space. My bedroom is my nest.”
Understanding flickers in his eyes.
He glances around. “I’m plenty cozy right here, Blossom. As long as you are.”
“I just—”
He cuts me off with a soft shake of his head and presses his thumb to my lips.
“Your nest is your space, Blossom. I don’t need to see it until you’re sure. Until you want me to.”
He replaces his thumb with another kiss. This one bites a little. His mouth trails down my jaw. My hands slide over his chest and find the hem of his shirt. I tug it upward, and we break apart just long enough for him to pull it over his head.
“Does the dog need out or anything?” Zeke asks.
“No, he’s at Roses. She’s puppy-sitting.”
Zeke starts nuzzling behind my ear halfway through my explanation. My breath stutters as he backs me toward the table.
When we reach it, he lifts me with ease. I squeak as he sets me on the wood, then he starts to nip his way down my throat, pushing me gently onto my back.
“What are you doing?” I ask, breath catching in my throat.
He hooks his fingers under the waistband of my pants and growls, “Having my dessert.”
The cool air kisses my soaked core as he tugs my pants down. I keen, hips twitching.
His low purr is warm water in a cold room. Steady and delicious.
He sucks and nips his way up my inner thighs. The first breath he lets out on my slick heat makes me tremble. When his tongue touches me, I shatter. Electricity zips through my spine. My back arches off the table and I moan, raw and unfiltered.
One hand presses gently on my belly, keeping me grounded. The other spreads me wider, fingers firm on my thigh.
“Zeke,” I gasp.
