Elias inhaled, sharp and raggedly. His features softened.
Again with the sniffing. It wasn’t lost on me how often they smelled me. With all the Omegas they fucked, I imagined it was a kink of theirs, but that intensity and focus made me think . . . hope, it was more.
“You want me.”
His sharp laugh cut through my heart. My face warmed with searing heat, but I didn’t let it cripple me. I lifted my chin, and it brought my lips close to his. He didn’t move, freezing with his eyes wide.
“I know you want me. Denying it only makes you look like an idiot.” I tipped my chin up, holding Elias’ gaze. His lips parted and closed, and anger flitted over his features.
“And what?” he hissed. “You think you can satisfy something another Omega can’t?”
His abrupt words sliced at me again, and this time, I couldn’t hide my flinch.
He drew back suddenly and raked his hand through his hair, flattening it back.
“Listen, we have to stand you for however long it takes while?—”
“I got it,” I interrupted. I hopped off the bathroom countertop, ignoring how my body rubbed down his, andespeciallyhow he inhaled.
“Sorry,” he blurted. I stopped in the middle of his bedroom. If I walked out, I’d never get answers about their mercurialbehavior. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, clearer but just as rushed with what sounded like panic.
There was no point in staying mad. I sighed and turned around. Once I had them in the rearview mirror, I wouldn’t have another thought of them.
Surrrrre.
I pushed away the doubt.
“You’re an asshole, you know?”
“I know,” he muttered. He shuffled a few steps closer and rubbed the back of his neck. The sheepishness was what did me in.
“Admit it.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
“Admit you want me.” I cocked my head as he stiffened and strode past me. I stayed silent while he hesitated by his door. Him stopping before walking through told me he’d given in.
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. What was I doing, risking temptation like this?
It’s just fucking.
Was it, though?
I went directly to the edge of his bed and sat, resting my hands on the down comforter.
He looked over his shoulder, his attention landing on mine. His fist clenched so hard his arm muscle twitched, making the veins on the back of his hand jump.
His control frayed; I could see it in his face.
In a slow turn, he faced me, stepping toward me like there were thousand-pound weights on his feet. If he didn’t want me, I wouldn’t force it, but his desire was clear in those green irises.
Then, he stood in front of me, and it was like a dam had ruptured. I hooked my fingers into his belt, my knuckles rubbing against the cotton of his tucked-in shirt. He hovered, breathing hard, like he didn’t know how to proceed—paralyzed.
Still, his hunger was palpable.
He hooked a finger into the front of my pajama top.
“Take this off.” He started to yank, and I pressed my hand over his, stopping him.
