I don’t take my eyes off him. I can’t. There’s nothing I want more than to see him like this, and for him to feel like this, soft and hard, thrashing in my arms as he’s ravaged by the pleasure I’ve brought him.
It knits something in me together. Something I didn’t know was open or in need of mending. A kind of wound, or hole, in my chest that I didn’t realize was empty. Bringing him to orgasm fixes me, darning past pain and oldinjuries. Leaving me a little more complete each time it happens.
This is why I’m here. Why I exist. To make Lucien’s toes curl. To make him tremble and cry out. To make his whole body shudder. It’s what I was made for.
I wait until he recovers, opening his eyes and smiling drunkenly at me, and then I quicken my pace. My hips work by themselves. A machine powered by something that doesn’t require conscious thought from me. My dick slides in and out of him, so fast and hard that it burns where we’re joined. Pleasure sluices through me, slicing me into small pieces and wiping my brain clean of everything that isn’t Lucien’s body and his scent.
A choked, chopped sound escapes his throat. “Yes. God, yes. Fuck me like that and don’t stop. Please, alpha, don’t stop.”
A base, primordial part of me likes it when he calls me alpha. A deep animal part hears it and basks in the rightness. I mean to tell him I’d rather die than stop, but the only response I’m able to produce is a low, guttural growl.
I fuck him deeply, filling every inch of him until he’s surfed the stupor of his climax and ridden it to the beach. He stills and blinks at me, seeing now. His face is close to mine. So close I can feel the warm puff of his breath on my lips.
His lips are inches from mine.
Two, maybe three inches.
I want to close the space and kiss him. I want to force his lips open with my tongue and claim his mouth the way I’m claiming his ass. I want that.Fuck, I want it so much.But I don’t want to take it from him. I want him to give it to me.
We didn’t talk about kissing before he went into heat, and we should have. He wasn’t thinking clearly, and it seems I wasn’t either.
Some omegas like kissing during heat, and others don’t. Especially not when their heat partner isn’t a romantic partner. Many omegas like to keep kissing separate, so they have something to hold back. Something they can keep for themselves as their biology wrecks them.
I release his wrists and push myself up on my hands, buying some space from him that I hope will clear my mind. It doesn’t. It doesn’t help at all because all it’s done is improve my vantage of him. His lovely face is in reach. His lips swollen with heat. Puffy and pink. A deep Cupid’s bow and a full bottom lip beg to be bitten.
I bet they’re soft, his lips.
I bet they’re the softest, sweetest lips I’ve ever encountered. I bet Lucien is the kind of guy who sighs when you kiss him, but only when you kiss him good. When youkiss him for real. When you kiss the breath out of him and make him see stars.
I lean down, lips parting, and catch myself.
No.
That’s his.
That’s his to give me if he wants, not mine to take.
I push myself onto my knees, arching back to get my mouth as far from his as possible, and lift him by the hips so his ass is perfectly lined up to receive my thrusts. He takes them so well. Moaning and writhing as I plow into him. His entire body responds, curling and jolting from my ministrations. Shivering and clenching.
Every time I blink and open my eyes again, disbelief grows more and more acute. I’m really here. With Lucien. It’s not a dream. It’s happening. He’s in heat. His scent has permeated the entire cabin. The entire mountain. My heart and my mind. He’s being ravaged by an internal storm, and my cock is the center of his world.
My cock is the only thing he’s thinking of. The only thing he needs.
I ease my hands down, curling them around his hips so I’m holding his ass cheeks in my hands. God, it feels good. His ass is perfect. Muscular but not too hard. Soft and a little fleshy as well.
He’s perfect on the inside and the outside.
His body is stunning. Skin clear and smooth. His build is slight, with a subtle hint of muscle casting shadows on his arms and chest. His Adam’s apple juts out from the graceful column of his throat, bobbing unsteadily as he groans.
What I’d give to run my tongue over it.
My lips too.
And my teeth.
But no. No. That’s out of the question. I can’t go anywhere near his neck. Not with my lips. Not with my tongue. And definitely not with my teeth.
As it is, his scent is threatening to overpower me. It’s burned into my brain. His DNA branded into my mind. A secret sequence I know now. A sequence I won’t forget, no matter how long I live. I’m powerless against it.
