“What’s happening?” Goosebumps pebble on my skin, and I’m drunk on his scent, my clit throbbing and desperate for attention.
Alpha Alpha Alpha
Ivan groans again, pressing me into the door, the outline of his erection through his jeans pushing against my stomach.
“Mine,” he growls. “Mine.”
His voice has never been that deep before, never so full of possession.
“Yours,” I agree, because nothing has ever felt so right.
It’s a universal truth that I sense deep inside of me.
It’s a scent match.
“Oh my god,” I breathe. “Oh…”
“Shit,” he hisses. “I knew it. I fuckingknewit was you.”
We haven’t been alone like this before, the room charged with arousal.
I’ve never just scented Ivan. It’s always been around other people and when my body wasn’t aching for him.
He’s my scent match!
“We were right,” I giggle, half delirious. “Ivan, we wereright.”
His pheromones, his biology was made specifically for me.
“Holy shit, where’s your bedroom?” he asks, his voice strangled. “Baby, where’s your bedroom?” He grabs my ass to lift me, and I wrap my legs around him. He holds me close, purring loudly.
“Down the hall, first room on the left,” I moan, burying my face in his neck. I lick his Adam’s apple then suck on his skin, sinking my teeth in gently.
“Oh, sweet fuck,” he moans, spinning us around and leading me through the apartment, the front door growing further away. “Maeve—Omega?—”
I hum, tasting the tart apple flavor of him.
When we reach my bedroom, he sucks in a breath and deposits me gently on the blankets, and I smile warmly up at him. His eyes are glassy, and despite the hunger in his gaze, he regards me tenderly. “Your nest is beautiful,” he says, and I beam at the praise. “May I join you, sweetheart?”
I laugh softly and spread my legs. The camisole has ridden up my thighs, and my soaked black panties are on display for him. “Of course,Alpha.”
He groans. “I’ll never get tired of hearing that,” he promises, kicking off his shoes.
“Pants and shirt off,” I demand. “Let me see you.”
He smirks as he pulls at his belt. “You don’t need to ask me twice, darling.”
Darling.
Another pet name.
By the time he’s stepped out of his shirt and pants, I’m staring at him in shock, all playful retorts gone.
He stands over the bed with his lean and defined chest, a dark dusting of hair leading up from the top of his boxers to his stomach. The V of his hips is deliciously defined, and his thick cock juts out from his boxers, hard and leaking.
He’s perfect, and all mine.
“Touch me,” I whisper.
