I grow dizzy sitting at the table, the cramps intensifying along with the slick that stains my underwear.
Oh.
It’s getting really bad.
I’m forever grateful that I went home when I did.
I close my eyes, fading in and out, when a chair scrapes loudly across the floor and the scent of leather fills my nostrils again. Fang watches me, his face uncharacteristically scrunched with worry. A bowl of something delicious is in front him, and I lick my dry lips.
“Sweetheart,” he says lowly. “May I feed you?”
“I can do it myself,” I argue weakly.
“You can. But this is something I’ve wanted to do for a while.”
There’s something behind his piercing eyes, a feral want that I can’t unsee.
And my inner Omega so desperately wants to be pampered.
Fang’s eyes fall to my lips, his pupils blown wide. “I could get off on taking care of you,” he says, and it’s like déjà vu from yesterday with Logan.
So, I nod and allow him to feed me.
I didn’t expect to like it so much. But with every swallow of soup, Fang appears satisfied. It’s a vulnerable position, but the trust I have in him makes it worth it.
Every flavor explodes on my tongue, rich, buttery, and savory.
Maybe it’s just the Heat symptoms, but it’s the best meal I’ve ever tasted.
“Good girl,” he murmurs once the bowl is empty. He cups my cheek, and I close my eyes in bliss at his cool touch. “You’re burning up,” he murmurs.
“Alpha,” I moan as a wave of cramps pulse through my core. “I want…I need…”
I hate that I’m losing my words, because there is so much to ask for.
I want to be held. Cuddled. Cherished.
Knotted.
Bitten.
With the way Fang looks at me, I know he wants all of that for me, too.
“How lucky am I to have you to myself for a few hours?” he murmurs. Then, he scoops me back into his arms, and I sleepily sigh against him.
I’m glad he insisted that I eat first. The hunger pangs would have been miserable on top of the cramps, and now that my stomach is settled, I’m able to focus more on resting.
I’m also focused on the arousal that shoots through my pussy. My clit and nipples are screaming for attention, and when Fang sets me down on the bed, I shift uncomfortably in my clothes.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice low. It sends a shiver down my spine, and I work quickly to strip down to my underwear.
“Damn thing is stuck,” I whine when I can’t get my sweatshirt off, and he laughs and joins me on the bed, tugging it off for me.
His eyes dart to my chest, where a thin sheen of sweat has formed. “Tell me what to do,” he says simply. “I’m all yours.”
His voice is strained, his eyes almost black, but that leather scent is grounding.
It’s exactly what I need as my mind swirls and arousal makes my cunt ache.
