"Patience."
He keeps going. Kisses down my ribs. My stomach. When he moves between my thighs I realize what he's about to do.
"Relax." His breath ghosts over me. "Let me take care of you."
The first touch of his tongue makes me gasp.
He's methodical. He finds every sensitive spot and pays attention to my reactions. When I whimper he does it again. When my hips buck he holds me down with one arm across my stomach.
"Stay still," he says against me.
I can't. By the time he slides two fingers inside me while his mouth works my clit I'm shaking apart.
The orgasm rolls through me in long waves. Finn works me through all of it.
When I stop trembling he kisses the inside of my thigh.
"There you are."
He moves back up my body and pushes between my legs. I feel him hard against me.
He enters me in one smooth thrust. Being a beta means he can move differently. He sets a steady rhythm that hits deep without overwhelming.
"You feel so good." His forehead presses to mine. "I've wanted this for so long."
"You don't even know me."
"I know enough."
He kisses me while he moves. One hand tangles in my hair. The other braces beside my head.
When I come it's quieter than with Malcolm. Softer. Finn follows seconds later with my name on his lips.
The relief lasts maybe ten minutes.
Then the heat builds again. Sharper this time.
Finn tries again. And again. But without the lock the satisfaction doesn't hold. Each orgasm brings less relief.
"I'm sorry." He sounds devastated. "I can't—"
"It's okay." I'm crying now. "It's not your fault."
He holds me for a while. Then he kisses my forehead.
"I’m going to get you some water. You need it. I'll be quick."
He leaves.
I lie there trembling. The heat is climbing. Malcolm is still passed out beside me, completely spent.
My mind drifts.
I'm back in the old house. The one with the creaky floorboards and the kitchen that was too small. It was my first year with Ragon's pack.
I woke up screaming from a nightmare about the registry. About being sent back by my first pack. I dreamed of cold hallways and clinical assessments and the knowledge that I wasn't good enough for them to keep.
Ragon was in my doorway in seconds. Still half-asleep. Hair messy. But his eyes were sharp and focused on me.
