His scent hit me like a physical force—pure alpha, undiluted and intense. It filled my nostrils, coated my tongue, seemed to seep into my very pores until I was dizzy with it. My omega biology responded instantly, a rush of heat flooding my core, my skin prickling with heightened sensitivity.
“God, you smell good,” I whispered, the words escaping before I could catch them.
A slow smile spread across Burke’s face, predatory and tender all at once. “That’s all for you,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “Only ever for you.”
He helped me with the rest of my clothes, his rough hands gentle against my skin as he slid my jeans down my legs, his thumbs tracing the sensitive hollows behind my knees.
When I was as naked as he was, he guided me onto the bed with firm pressure on my hips, lowering me until my back pressed against the cool sheets.
I watched his face as he knelt above me, taking in the sharp angles of his jaw, the intensity in those green eyes, the slight flare of his nostrils as he breathed me in. His hands were calloused from years of work with ropes and weapons and tools, rough in texture but so careful in how they touched me.
It was the contradiction that always undid me—this dangerous man with lethal skills who treated me like I was made of something precious and breakable.
Burke reached for the drawer beside the bed, retrieving the bottle of lube we kept there. The familiar sound of the cap snapping open sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine. I watched, breath hitching, as he coated his fingers, the clear liquid catching the afternoon light filtering through the curtains.
“Spread your legs for me,” he murmured, not a request but not quite a command either. Something in between—an invitation backed by absolute certainty.
I did as he asked, knees falling open, feeling exposed and vulnerable and completely safe all at once. His slicked fingers traced a path along my inner thigh, leaving cool trails that quickly warmed against my heated skin.
When he finally reached my entrance, I gasped at the contrast—the cold gel against that most intimate heat.
Burke worked me open with methodical patience, one finger sliding inside with careful precision. His eyes never left my face, watching for any sign of discomfort as he added a second finger, then a third, stretching me with gentle insistence despite the growl that rumbled constantly in his chest now.
“You’re perfect,” he said, voice rough with restraint. “So perfect for me.”
I couldn‘t form words, could only nod and gasp as his fingers curled inside me, finding that spot that made stars explode behind my eyelids. My hips bucked up involuntarily, seeking more pressure, more friction, more of him.
“Please,” I finally managed, the word barely recognizable through my panting. “Burke, I need—“
“I know what you need,” he said, withdrawing his fingers and positioning himself between my thighs. “I’ve always known.”
The blunt pressure of him against my entrance made me tense briefly before my body remembered this dance. He pushed forward slowly, inexorably, and I cried out at the burning stretch, the fullness that was almost too much and yet exactly right. Burke didn’t stop until he was seated fully inside me, our bodies joined as completely as two people could be.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. I could feel his heartbeat inside me, a heavy throb that matched the pulse pounding in my ears. His arms trembled slightly where they bracketed my head, the only sign of the monumental effort it took him to hold still while I adjusted.
“You okay?” he asked, voice tight with restraint.
I nodded, not trusting my voice, and wrapped my legs around his waist in silent permission. That was all the encouragement he needed.
Burke withdrew almost completely before driving back in, setting a rhythm that had me gasping with each controlled thrust. He caught my wrists in one large hand, drawing them above my head and pinning them to the pillow.
The position left me completely open to him, unable to do anything but receive what he gave. I surrendered to it, to him, letting my body go pliant beneath his strength. His mouth found my nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive peak before his tongue soothed the sting. I arched up, seeking more of that exquisite sensation.
The sounds filling the room were primal and unashamed—the slap of skin against skin, my desperate moans, the low growls that escaped Burke’s throat with each thrust. Words spilled from his lips between kisses, possessive and raw.
“Mine,” he growled against my throat. “Say it, Danny. Say you’re mine.”
“Yours,” I gasped, the word breaking as he hit that perfect spot inside me. “Always yours. Only yours.”
Something shifted then, our bodies finding a perfect synchronization that went beyond physical movement. This was what made alpha and omega biology so unique, so powerful—this ability to connect on a level that transcended conscious thought. My body yielded completely to his, accepting each thrust with eager welcome, while his responded to cues I wasn’t even aware of giving.
Burke’s pace increased, each thrust deeper and more urgent than the last. I could feel my release building, a tight coil of pleasure at the base of my spine that threatened to unravel me completely. Burke sensed it—of course he did—and slippedhis free hand between our bodies to touch me exactly where I needed it most.
“Come for me,” he demanded, his voice so deep I felt it more than heard it. “Let me feel you.”
His command broke the last of my control. I shattered beneath him, crying out his name as waves of pleasure crashed through me. My body clenched around him, pulling him deeper, and Burke followed me over the edge with a hoarse shout, his hips stuttering as he found his own release deep inside me.
For several long moments, we stayed frozen like that, connected and pulsing and breathless. Then Burke carefully lowered his weight onto me, burying his face in the crook of my neck and inhaling deeply. His body still trembled with aftershocks, small twitches of muscle that I felt everywhere we touched.
