I move around the desk and pull her up from her chair. She comes easily, and suddenly I'm holding her close, my hands on her waist, my face close enough to hers that I can smell her scent. Strawberry and honey, a dizzying and delicious combination, seemingly wrapping around us both.We're standing in her small office, the door locked behind us after hours of chasing down leads on Ben and Penelope's fraud scheme. The overhead fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across the cluttered desk, but all I can focus on is her. Sharon's leaning against the desk, cheeks flushed from the adrenaline of discovery, her curls escaping from the ponytail she tied back this morning.
"You're kinda hot when you investigate," I admit, closing the distance between us until I'm standing directly in front of her. My voice drops lower, rougher. The confession pulls itself from somewhere deep in my chest. "I must admit it kinda turned me on, being with you today. Watching you piece everything together, seeing that sharp mind of yours work."
I reach out and tuck one of those escaped curls behind her ear, letting my fingers linger against her jaw.
"The way you bit your lip when you were concentrating," I continue, my thumb brushing across that bottom lip she's been abusing all afternoon. "The way your scent spiked every timewe found something new. Strawberries getting sweeter, honey getting thicker. You have no idea what that does to an alpha."
Her pupils dilate, swallowing the warm brown of her irises until they're nearly black. Her breath hitches, coming faster as I crowd closer into her space.
"Kiss me," she demands, her voice rough with need.
My alpha purrs at the command, at her boldness, at the way she's not afraid to ask for what she wants.
"Damn, slow down tiger," I say, but I'm already moving.
In one sweep, whatever's on her desk becomes a thing of the past. Papers scatter and flutter to the floor like snow. Her laptop slides across the wooden surface. The stapler hits the ground with a sharp clatter. I don't care about any of it.
I grip her hips, my hands nearly spanning her entire waist, and lift her onto the desk. The wood creaks under the sudden weight. She gasps at the movement, at being manhandled so easily, and the sound goes straight through me.
Her legs wrap around me instantly, pulling me into the space between her thighs. Her body is soft and warm against mine, curves pressing everywhere we touch. The way she clings to me, desperate and needy, makes something primal roar to life in my chest. My alpha is screamingmine,claim,keep.
I've been starving for this since the moment we started this investigation. Every minute spent tracking down fraud felt like foreplay leading to this exact moment. My hand slides up to cup the back of her neck, fingers threading through the silk of her hair as I tilt her head back, exposing the long line of her throat.
I pause there for just a second, breathing her in. Strawberries and honey and arousal so thick I can taste it in the air between us.
Then I take her mouth.
She opens for me immediately, an invitation I don't hesitate to accept. My tongue slides against hers, and the taste of herfloods my senses. Coffee from the cup she nursed all afternoon. Honey like her natural scent made flavor. Something sweet and warm that's purely Sharon, purely omega, purely perfect.
She meets me stroke for stroke, her tongue dancing with mine in a rhythm that makes my blood run hot. The kiss turns hungry fast, all the tension from hours of working together exploding into desperate need.
My tongue explores her mouth with an urgency I can't control, claiming every inch while she claims me right back. She tastes like heaven and sin mixed together, and I can't get enough. I angle her head further back, deepening the kiss until I'm practically devouring her.
Her hands are everywhere. Fisting in my shirt hard enough that I hear fabric strain. Sliding up my chest, nails scraping lightly even through the cotton. Gripping my shoulders like she needs the anchor, like I'm the only thing keeping her grounded.
Sharon makes a sound against my mouth, something between a whimper and a moan that vibrates through both of us. Heat floods through me, my cock hardening against the zipper of my jeans where it's pressed between us.
My free hand finds her hip, gripping the soft flesh there before my thumb strokes the strip of skin where her shirt has ridden up. Her skin is fever-hot under my touch, smooth and responsive. She shivers, pressing closer, and I can feel the heat of her core even through our clothes.
Sharon’s everything I never knew I was looking for.
Her scent spikes again, sharper and sweeter. Strawberries crushed under pressure. Honey warming in sunlight. And underneath it all, the unmistakable musk of omega arousal that makes my alpha howl with satisfaction.
When I finally force myself to pull back, we're both breathing hard. The air between us is thick with pheromones and want.
Her lips are swollen and pink from my mouth. Her hair is completely mussed from my hands, the ponytail holder lost somewhere in the chaos. Her shirt is twisted and riding up, revealing the curve of her collarbone and the gentle swell of her breasts where I desperately want to put my mouth next.
She's breathless and beautiful and completely wrecked from just a kiss.
Her scent has shifted to something warmer, deeper. Something that smells like desire and trust and belonging all mixed together in a combination that makes my alpha rumble with possessive satisfaction.
Something that smells like mine.
We walk inside, and I can hear Cassian and Pine in the kitchen, apparently arguing about whether they should order food or cook something. Standard evening routine for those two. They both look up when we walk in, and their expressions shift from casual to alert in about half a second flat. Pack instinct. They can tell something's up.
"You two look like you have something to tell us," Pine says, his eyes narrowing slightly as he takes us in. "And based on Sharon's scent, it's something that involves either a lot of excitement or a lot of trouble."
Probably both.
