I knew I scented her on the wind. All brown sugar cinnamon and a hint of something spicy beneath. I smelled it the first time the wind kicked up. Cinnamon rolls that have yet to be iced, that’s what she reminds me of. Sweet and delectable, like the thighs currently wrapped around me.
She looks dazed.
My nostrils flare as I drink her in. The wind kicks up, whistling down the alleyway as it flutters her pin-straight blonde hair. She has it pulled back in a half-up sort of situation, and I can see the ends of a bow she has stuck in it. My eyes scour her body, taking in the way she curves and flares in places that make me ache.
Can I really do this again?
“Thank you,” she says breathlessly.
I don’t even realize I’m staring at her luscious hips until she speaks. My eyes pull back up to her face, taking in her creamy white skin and those incredible seafoam green eyes. They twinkle in the shadows of the alleyway, like a sun made just for me.
My hands sink into the excess of her hips.
“For what?” I ask as my gaze finds hers.
“Not letting me fall.”
I shake my head softly. “I will never let you fall, Omega.”
She sucks in a breath. “Alpha.”
Not a question, a statement. It takes all I have just to nod. I want to rip that pristine little cardigan right off her body. I want to ruck her skirt up and press my nose right where her scent is strongest. Even now, I feel the heat barreling from between her legs like a battering ram, trying to get through my work pants.
Work.
I can’t be doing this, I have work to do.
I go to release her. “You should be more careful, Omega. You could really?—”
Her whimper stops me in my tracks. Her thighs clench around me, and it tests the Alpha rising up inside of me.Take. Claim. Protect.My instincts are running a million miles a second. They haven’t done that since…
Well, since I had my heart broken as a young Alpha.
“Sorry,” she whispers from those pouty little lips of hers.
I want to chew on them like bubblegum. “No apologies.”
Her curves are soft against my body. My nostrils flare greedily, filling my lungs with another gallon of her scent. I can’t get enough. It will never be enough. My hands flex beneath her thighs, and she rolls her hips as another whine escapes her.
“You’re in preheat,” I state.
“Sort of,” she whimpers out.
Sort of? What does that mean?
How is an Omega “sort of” in heat?
I want to ask, but then her hands fly to my shirt. She splays them against my chest, running them up and down my torso. I can’t help myself. I’m much too weak against her scent. My face plants into the crook of her neck, nuzzling her scent gland.
It rewards me with another spurt of her scent, straight up my nostrils, and it’s like a drug to my veins. Blood rushes through my ears. My clothed cock pulses between her legs, and my knot shivers, ready and aching to blow her wide open.
“Omega,” I rumble.
“I’m not ready yet,” she whispers.
It douses cold water over the thoughts and instincts swirling around in my head. A rumble of a growl breaks at the back of my throat as I slide my nose along her scent gland one last time. She’s such a good girl for me, releasing her scent straight up my nostrils. I do my best to commit the scent profile to memory.
I’ll need it for later, when I can get home and take a cold shower.
