Her hand slides between us and finds me through my jeans and I groan against her mouth. I press into her palm and she grips me, deliberate, exploratory, like she's taking inventory of exactly what she does to me. The answer is everything, the answer hasalwaysbeen everything.
I grip her waist, trace the curve of her hip, beneath the hem of her shirt where it's come untucked, and then skin, warm and smooth under my palms. She pulls in a breath through her nose and there’s no hiding her shudder. I walk her back two steps until her shoulders meet the bookcase and she goes with it, arching into me, her hand still working me through the denim.
I get my mouth on her throat. She tips her head back, allowing me access to the slender curve and soft skin. She grips my hair. I slide my hand up her ribcage and over her breast. She presses into me, her nipple diamond hard.
“Fuck, Sera. How can you deny this,” I groan.
Then she goes still and I know I’ve gone too far.
She flattens her hands on my chest and pushes me back. She's flushed. Her shirt is untucked on one side and her mouth is swollen and she's breathing hard.
“No.” She clears her throat. “No. I'm not—” She smooths her shirt down with hands that aren't steady. “This isn’t happening.”
“Sera.”
“Don’t try to talk me into anything.” She glares at me, furious. But it’s not directed at me. She’s furious at herself. For wanting me. “There are lines I won't cross. Putting you in danger is one of them.”
I'm still trying to remember how to breathe normally. “I think the line has been crossed.”
“The omegas are starting to— I have to do this before—” She stops. “I won't put them in any jeopardy.”
“What jeopardy, Sera?” I say.
She stalks to the door, puts her hand on the handle. “I'm not bringing that into this house. Not now. Not while they're in the greenhouse planting things and starting to be okay.” She finally looks at me, and what's in her face is not the professional mask. It's something that costs her. “I won't take that away from them.”
There's nothing I can say that she'd hear right now.
“I'm sorry.” She opens the door. Doesn’t look back.
I stay in the study after she leaves.
Her scent clings to the room. My cock throbs behind my zipper and every instinct in me is still reaching for her.
She won’t let us in.
She’s carrying something enormous on her own.
And somehow she still thinks protecting us matters more than letting us protect her.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Aubrey
Construction noise drifts up from below when Espie whimpers herself awake beside me.
I smooth a hand through her hair and kiss her forehead until she relaxes again, curling tight against my chest.
Our sleeping area has grown since we first made it. Blankets the alphas brought us. Pillows that smell like them.
I couldn't resist them. Neither could Espie. We've layered their scents around us one offering at a time until the whole thing smells like pack.
I bury my face in the blanket nearest my head, fresh linen, Ezra's. My hindbrain settles, and some of the tension drains from my shoulders before the dread creeps back. I don't want to move. Don't want to break this small pocket of safety we've made.
My heat is building. I've been trying not to think about it, but my body won't let me forget. The cramps come and go now, a preview of what's coming. I know what I'll need when it hits hard. I’ve never had a female alpha and there’s something about the thought of her lock clamping me inside her while I make her scream. But a lock won’t be enough.
I'll need a knot.
I'll need a male alpha.
