“Good girl,” he whispers when I start to tremble. “Let it out.”
The pressure builds. My hips buck against his hand. I cling to his shoulders, my fingers digging into the hard muscle of his arms.
“Rhett,” I gasp.
“I know,” he says. “I’ve got you.”
He pushes two fingers inside me. I stretch around him, my inner muscles clamping down. It’s not enough. I need more.
“Harder,” I beg.
He adds a third finger. He curls them, finding that spot that makes me see stars.
I come apart with a cry that is half-sob, half-moan. My body seizes, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over me, washing away the fever, the headache, the fear.
I collapse against him, limp and spent.
He doesn’t pull his hand away immediately. He holds me there, gently stroking my back, letting me ride out the aftershocks.
“Better?” he asks.
“Yes,” I breathe. “So much better.”
I lift my head. My eyes meet his.
“Thank you,” I say.
He smiles. It’s a small, crooked smile. “Anytime.”
I settle my head back on his shoulder. I can smell his scent, mixed with the smell of my own arousal. It should be embarrassing. It should be shameful.
But it feels right.
“Go to sleep,” he says.
“I am,” I mumble.
I close my eyes. The fever is gone, replaced by a bone-deep weariness.
I’m safe here. I’m safe with him.
I have always been safe with them.
Rhett
Iam warm. Warmer than I have been in days.
I blink, my eyes adjusting to the light. I’m lying on my side, my arm wrapped around something soft and fragrant.
Saramaria.
She is curled into my chest, her head tucked under my chin. Her breath puffs against my neck in a soft, rhythmic rhythm. One of her hands is resting on my chest, right over my heart. She’s still wearing her T-shirt, her legs tangled with mine under the heavy quilt.
My cock is hard. It’s a relentless, aching throb that demands attention, pressing against the fly of my sweatpants. I ignore it. I shift slightly, trying to ease the pressure without waking her.
She smells incredible. Even through the lingering scent of tequila and the slight salt of sleep, I can smell her. Vanilla and honey and almond blossom. And underneath it, something deeper. The rich, sweet scent of an Omega who is on the edge.
I watch her sleep. Her dark lashes. Her perfect nose. Her mouth slightly parted to show perfectly straight teeth. She looks so beautiful like this.
