He starts slowly, fingers curling to find the sensitive spot inside that makes my breath catch and my hips buck against his hand. His thumb finds my clit and circles with just enough pressure to make me whimper. Every nerve ending is on fire, the heat channeling into this singular point of pleasure building between my legs.
"That's it," he says, voice rough with his own need. "Let go for me. Come on my fingers, little wolf."
The Alpha command threads through his words and something in me responds instinctively, my body tightening around his fingers. The pressure builds higher and higher until I can't breathe, can't think, can only feel the wave cresting. His thumb presses harder, his fingers curl deeper. I shatter, back arching off the bed as the orgasm rips through me. I cry out his name into the darkness and clench around his fingers,wave after wave of pleasure coursing through my body until I'm shaking with it.
He keeps his fingers moving through it, drawing out every wave of pleasure until my muscles go slack and I'm left trembling against the sheets, breathing hard. When the aftershocks finally fade and I can focus again, I find him watching me. His jaw is tight with the effort of holding himself back, chest rising and falling too fast.
"Better?" he asks, and his voice comes out strained.
"For now." My breathing is still ragged and my heart pounds against my ribs.
"It'll come back," he says, and I hear the knowledge in his voice. Heat doesn't end with one orgasm, won't be satisfied until the bond completes.
"I know." Already I can feel it building again, the temporary relief fading. "Stay. Please stay."
"I can't." He withdraws his hand slowly and I make a sound of protest. He brings his fingers to his mouth, tasting me, and the sight makes fresh heat pool low in my belly. "Fuck, you taste incredible."
I reach for him, wanting to touch, wanting to give him the same pleasure he gave me. But he catches my wrists gently, stopping me.
"No," he says.
"Why not? Let me touch you."
"Because if you touch me, I won't be able to stop." He's shaking with the effort of holding back. I can see how hard he is, straining against his jeans. "And I'm not claiming you like this."
"I want you to." The heat is already demanding more. "Please, Cas. I need you."
"You want the heat to end." He releases my wrists and rolls away to sit on the edge of the bed, putting distance between us. "That's not the same thing as wanting me."
I sit up, frustrated and aching. "What's the difference?"
"The difference is that when I claim you, I want you making that choice with a clear head." He stands, adjusting himself with a grimace. "Not because biology is demanding it. Not because you're desperate and I'm here and available."
"That's all mate bonds are anyway. Biology."
"No." He turns to face me and the low vibration in his chest steals my breath. "They're choice too. You could resist the pull if you wanted. Fight it. Run from it. The fact that you don't, that you let yourself feel it, that's the choice. That's what matters."
"And you're choosing to walk away."
"I'm choosing to wait." He crosses back to me, cups my face in his hands. His touch is gentle despite the tremor running through him. "When I claim you, Nova, it won't be because you were in heat and desperate for any male who could end the ache. It'll be because you came to me specifically. Because you asked for it. Because you wanted me, Caspian, not just an Alpha."
He kisses me once more, his lips claiming mine with a thoroughness that makes my toes curl. His tongue slides against mine and I taste myself on him, the intimacy of it making heat pool low in my belly again. When he pulls back, we're both breathing hard.
"When you're ready," he says against my lips, "you'll come to me. And I'll give you everything. Every part of me. Forever."
Then he's moving to the window. Climbing back out into the night with the same easy strength he used to climb up. I watch him descend the brick wall and disappear into the shadows between buildings.
I'm alone again.
The heat builds immediately, worse now that I know what his hands feel like. What his fingers can do. What I'm missing by not letting him complete the bond.
I fall back onto the bed, skin burning. My hand slides down my body without conscious thought, trying to ease the ache he left behind.
I think about Caspian. About how he treated me when I first arrived. The cruelty, the dominance games, how he made me feel small. And now this. Climbing through my window to give me pleasure without taking anything for himself. Walking away to protect my choice. How did we get here? How did the male who tortured me become someone I trust enough to let touch me like this?
My fingers move between my legs, working the same path his took. I think of how he looked at me, how he touched me like I was precious, how he walked away to prove this is about more than just heat.
But my thoughts don't stay with Caspian alone.
