"Let me," I breathe, tugging at his hair until he tips for me.
He bares his neck without theatrics, trust easy. Not the gland. I nose around that forbidden place anyway, just long enough to feel both of us shiver, then I choose lower, safe. I scent him, slow and greedy, then I set my teeth.
He jolts, a hiss that slides into a laugh that isn't really a laugh. I keep it careful—more bruise than break—then do it again, and again, an uneven necklace stamped into warm skin.
"Vee. God, Omega. Look at you."
"Look atyou."
Barriers go fast after that—his shirt tugged over his head, my shorts caught in his fingers, the nest swallowing us when he rolls until the blankets cradle my back. He pauses there, braced over me, breathing hard.
"Yes," I say. "Please."
We fit.
We always have. The first push is a stretch that steals my breath, an ache edged with relief. It's been a while. I hear the sound that tears out of me and don't recognize it as my own.
He goes still, forehead to mine. "Tell me if it's too much."
"It is," I pant, laughter caught in it, "and not enough."
The smile that flickers across his mouth is bright and wrecked. He starts to move.
It's not frantic. It's not slow. It's a rhythm that finds us like a heartbeat. The nest creaks under us; the room swims in our scent, Eli's careful calm layered under the fizz and salt of what we're doing now.
I reach up, palm to his face, thumb tugging his lower lip, and he sucks it into his mouth on instinct. I arch into him, mouth open, unpretty sounds catching in my throat.
"Vee. Vee, baby, you have to be quieter or—"
"Make me."
He swallows my next noise. It doesn't help. The control I've been clinging to slips; my hips chase his. I bite his shoulder, shameless, and drag my nails down his back. He shudders.
"Again. Do it again."
I do, teeth set just so, and feel him lose the thread, his rhythm breaking before he catches it again, harder now, deeper. Heat gathers low and sharp.
"Drake. I'm—"
"Give it to me."
He changes his angle just enough that something in me snaps.
I come with a sound that's not fit for polite company, loud and wrecked and relieved. The walls won't hold it. The house will hear it. I can't make myself care.
He follows me down. I feel the shiver run through him, and then the unmistakable swell at the base of him that my body answers with a helpless clutch.
"Okay. I've got you."
The catch steals any hope of quiet. The way he thickens and seats us flush, the way my body yields and then grips—it pries another sound out of me. My hands fly to his back. His scent floods my head.
He swells even more, a slow bloom that holds us. The stretch burns for a breath, bright and hot, then my body gives, melts around him. Everything low goes tight andsoft at once. The pulse there is his heartbeat knocking at my own. We can't chase anymore. The lock demands stillness and closeness.
"Easy. That's it. Breathe."
I do. The edge turns from sharp to something round and deep. Every tiny shift sends a ripple through me.
In this moment, all I feel is needed.
