Each brutal thrust rocks me on the mattress, only Rowan’s hold on my knees keeping me in place, my sweat-slick skin dragging across the cheap cotton sheets. The springs beneath us scream in protest, broadcasting our coming together to anyone listening.
When Rowan shifts his angle, his cock drags across the sweet spot inside me that shatters my vision into white-hot fragments. All-consuming pleasure crashes through my system, and I drown in it, surrendering to Rowan.
“You feel so good,” he pants, his hips maintaining their merciless pace. “So tight around my cock. Want to stay buried in you forever.”
His words flow over me, each syllable burning into my skin. “My deadly little mate. So fucking perfect for me.”
A warm pride curls through me that I’ve never experienced before.
His voice drops lower, rumbling through my bones as his teeth scrape my collarbone. “Going to fuck you so deep you’ll still ache from me days later, precious.”
The promise makes me shudder, along with more heated slick.
“This body,” he groans, grinding into my ass as deep as he can go, “made to take me and only me.”
I believe him. God help me, I believe him.
My dick bounces on my stomach, leaking clear fluid with each thrust. The need for release builds, coiling tighter with every drag of his length against my inner walls. My nails dig into his shoulders, leaving crescent marks as I try to anchor myself within the tide of sensation threatening to sweep me away.
“Mine. My Omega,” Rowan snarls, his thrusts growing harder, more erratic. “Say it.”
“Yours,” I gasp, the admission born on a wave of pleasure so intense I can’t think straight. “All yours.”
His teeth graze the vulnerable skin of my throat above the nape guard, testing the boundary without crossing it. The threat of a claiming bite, even one that can’t penetrate the protective plastic, sends another wave of slick rushing from my body.
The bed rocks, its metal feet scraping the floor with each powerful thrust, the headboard hammering the wall in a rhythm capable of waking the dead. Any thought of discretion vanishes beneath the tide of need consuming us both.
Rowan shifts one of my legs to his shoulder so he can grip my neglected dick. One stroke, two, and stars burst behind my eyelids as release crashes through me. My body clamps down around his thick length, inner muscles rippling with aftershocks as ropes of white paint my chest and stomach.
Rowan’s rhythm falters as my body squeezes him. “Fuck.”
His hips snap forward one final time, grinding deep as his release floods me, his cock pulsing.
The sudden, hot flood of cum triggers a second, unexpected climax that tears through me. My back arches off the bed, a silent scream locked behind clenched teeth.
We collapse together, sweaty limbs tangled on a mattress too narrow for one person, let alone two. The musk of sex and pheromones fills the room, thick enough for it to coat the back of my tongue.
Rowan’s softening cock stays buried inside me, any movement sending aftershocks of pleasure through my oversensitive body. His weight pins me to the mattress, but I welcome it as proof of the choice I made to let him back in.
With gentle movements, Rowan shifts to his side, bringing me with him as his cock slips from my body. His arm slides beneath my head, creating a pillow of his bicep that’s more comfortable than it should be. My muscles turn to liquid, tension drained by my release. A pleasant soreness settles into my hips and thighs, physical reminders I’ll carry tomorrow, just as Rowan promised.
Rowan’s hand traces lazy patterns across my chest, circling the marks his mouth left earlier. Our breathing slows, heartbeats finding a shared rhythm as sweat cools on our skin.
Moonlight paints silver stripes across the ceiling through the blinds, shifting with each passing car outside. A fragile quiet surrounds us, a bubble of peace that can’t last but I want to preserve, anyway.
“Do you really think it’ll work?” The question escapes before I can reconsider, breaking the silence.
Rowan’s fingers pause on my ribs. “What?”
“The server.” My voice sounds smaller than I intend. “Delivering it to the Vartanians. Will it really get the police to stop circling Lena for Danny’s disappearance?”
The fear has been gnawing at me since Officer Ramirez first showed up at our door to question me about my sister, and has kept me awake on nights when Rowan wasn’t beside me. It’s the one threat I can’t neutralize with a knife or lock picks.
Rowan’s arm tightens around my waist. “Once the Vartanians have the information Danny stole from them, they’ll have no reason to keep digging into Danny’s acquaintances.”
“But what if they don’t stop? What if they think we kept a copy for ourselves?” The fear rises again, breaking through the post-sex haze. “What if whoever stole the information from Danny’s server tries to get the information back? Lena?—”
“The person who stole the information is the Vartanian’s problem, not ours. And if giving them the server doesn’t work,” Rowan interrupts, steady and certain as a heartbeat, “then we’ll destroy anyone who comes to threaten her.”
