Then I hear him take a breath. A longer one. The soft squeak of the mattress beneath me gives way as he—though I’m only imagining this—turns to look at me.
And my name…
“Rose?” It’s breathy and gruff at the same time. “You smell…fuck.”
I’d forgotten that.
Here I am, thinking that if I stay still, keep my eyes closed, and press my thighs together, he won’t know how badly I need him inside me. But alphas have noses. Sharp, sharp noses. And an alpha always knows when an omega is aroused.
I’m not the least bit surprised when a large, warm hand presses against my left thigh, parting it from my right. There’s another long inhalation. A deeper, husky groan.
My heart stops as Murph leans over me, gripping my wrists and pushing them up over my head, and the cool, hard weight of something looping around them. His leather belt. He’s tying my wrists to the headboard.
I keep my eyes tightly closed. Something about not seeing his expression, only guessing at what’s happening around me, anticipating what Murph will do to me next is a massive turn-on I wasn’t expecting. My insides go slick imagining him pushing my thighs apart and sliding deep. At being completely at his mercy…
Murph moves faster, his hands shaking as if he knows exactly what this is doing to me. God, the anticipation is killing me. I shift restlessly, trying to rub my thighs together, but I can’t with the leg he inserts between them to keep mine open.
“Murph?” I whisper, my breath unsteady.
“I know,” he croons, nuzzling the nape of my neck and pressing a kiss on my pulse. “I know what you need. Wait just a little longer for me to give it to you.”
He fiddles with the belt looped around my wrists a little more. When he removes his hands and I pull on my arms, I can’t move them more than an inch from the headboard. It’s tight enough to keep me where he wants me, but not tight enough to hurt. He has me exactly where he wants me, and no one is happier about that than I am.
“So damn pretty,” he rumbles, and I feel the heat of his gaze sweeping over me, “laid out just for me. The best kind of present a man could ever want.”
He cups my right breast with one large hand, its weight filling his palm. I release a soft sigh, gasping as he nips my throat.
His slow smile stretches across my throat as the soft bristles of his stubble brush against my chin. “Ah, I never mentioned the bites I intend to leave all over this pretty skin, did I?”
Bites?
Swallowing down the need that’s spiking my veins, I shake my head. “Where?”
“Everywhere.” He strokes one large hand possessively over me, and I start holding my breath when the tip of his finger teases the edge of my clit.
He nips my shoulder; a harder bite that he follows up with a slow, firm lick.
“Murph!” My back arches instinctively, craving more of his rough touch.
He chuckles. “You like my mouth on you.”
“Yes.” I open my eyes, not just wanting to see him put his mark on me, but needing to.
He angles down, his lips at my left nipple, teeth grazing, tongue soothing, before lifting his head again. “Let's see where else you like my mouth. Close those beautiful eyes, baby. And just feel all the things I do to you.”
I close them.
His hands stroke over my curves, that hot, hungry mouth following close behind, nipping, kissing, sucking, and soothing the sting of each brief flare of pain away.
Slowly, he works his way down my body. I’m awash in sensation. In anticipation. He hooks my thighs, lifting both and spreading me wide. My heart stops. Every part of me wants to open my eyes.
What is he doing?
Staring at me?
Licking his lips the way he did as he peered down at my breasts?
“Ripe peaches and wild honey.” His hot breath blows across my exposed pussy. He draws a breath and lets out a deep groan, the sound tightening my belly. “You’re so wet for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
