“Mrs. Broussard is very happily married, Ember. She was hoping she could help me cater some future events. That’s why she was being so friendly. And besides, Iamtechnically available,” he says softly.
Yes. I know that. That’s the whole problem. Mrs. Broussard caused my alpha instincts to surge. To claim, guard, remove threats, and rearrange the world for my omega.
I place my hands on his waist, warm through the fabric of his shirt, and pull him into my body.
“I do not wish to compete for your affection.”
“You aren’t competing with anyone that I’m aware of,” he says, lips twitching.
“Good. Because I would win.”
“Obviously,” he chuckles, settling his hands on my pec, the contact feeling like a lightning strike.
Our eyes are locked, our scents mixing together, and our hearts picking up speed. My instincts scream to claim him. Make him mine so no one else will ever dare try to take him away from me.
“Would you want to become unavailable?” I ask him, my mind drunk on the thought of kissing him again.
“Become unavailable?” he asks, his eyes moving down to my lips. His pink tongue peeks out to moisten them, and my chest rumbles with a purr.
“Yes. Would you like to be unavailable to others by becoming mine?”
I’m not sure I’m making sense right now, but I’m doing my godsdamned best. The scent of his slick is driving me mad with lust, and all of the blood that usually occupies my brain is now below my belt. I wonder if he will let me eat him before I claim him. I bet he would taste so delicious.
He nods, small at first, but then bigger and more enthusiastic.
The air between us thickens with satisfaction that we have no one else to worry about. He is mine, and I am his. As the fates intended.
His fingers curl into the front of my shirt, holding on like an anchor in a storm. I lean in, slowly, letting him decide if he wants this.
He closes the distance quickly.
Our mouths meet, firm this time. Not the cautious brush from our first date. This is heat. This is fire from the depths of the earth. This is fate celebrating the creation of two beings perfectly formed for each other.
His lips part on a soft moan, and I plunge in without thought, deepening the kiss. I lick into his mouth, tasting coffee, sugar, and Sunshine.
I tighten my grip on his waist, needing to be closer, to get inside him, but not wanting to rush this moment of perfection. His hands slide up to my collar, pulling me closer.
Wrecking me.
I back him toward the desk, never breaking the kiss. He stumbles into it with a soft thud and lets out a surprised gasp.
I kiss him deeper, slower, learning him. The way his breath shortens when I angle my head a certain way. The way his fingers flex when I drag my thumb along the strip of bare skin right above the line of his pants. The way he gasps as I grind against him, our cocks rubbing painfully together through our clothes.
My instincts roar like a raging fire, begging me to claim him as ours eternally.
But I won’t do that.
Not yet.
Not until he fully understands what being with me forever will be like.
But this isn’t the time for that discussion. This is the time to make him melt for me.
I break the kiss, just enough for him to breathe. His lips are wet, cheeks flushed, and pupils blown. He looks absolutely, deliciously, wrecked.
My inner alpha gives a satisfied purr at the sight of him looking so debauched in his carefully put-together office.
“You are mine, Habibi,” I growl.
