Page 147 of Beautifully Scarred Omega

He doesn’t step back. He’s right behind me, close enough that I can feel the heat of his chest through my shirt. I go still. Suddenly I’m aware of everything—the warmth of him, the fact that neither of us is moving away.

If I leaned back even a fraction⁠—

Slowly, he moves his hands to the counter, gripping the edge on either side of me. The tendons in his forearms stand out, veins running toward his wrists.

“Sophie.” His voice comes out rough, almost pained. “Tell me to step back.”

I don’t.

I close my eyes and lean into him.

He’s solid and warm behind me, and I can feel all of him—the weight of his chest and the hard line of him against my lower back. My mind goes blank. My fingers find the edge of the counter beside his and hold on.

A sound escapes him, low and involuntary, the first crack in his restraint.

“Finn.”

He drops his head and I feel his nose press into my hair, breathing in. “I can still smell you,” he says against the top of my head. “Just barely. The suppressants—they haven’t fully⁠—”

“I can smell you too.” I tip my head to the side, toward his neck, breathing him in. “Like sun-warmed skin,” I say, almost to myself. “Like happiness. Just like that night we met.”

His breath catches and his hands tighten on the counter, the knuckles going white.

“I really want to kiss you,” he says.

His breath brushes over the back of my neck, and every muscle in my body seems to notice.

His hands are still locked around the edge of the counter, forearms drawn tight like the only thing keeping him from touching me is his own grip. When he speaks, his voice is more unsteady than I’ve ever heard it.

“But I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.” He’s close to my ear. “I kissed you at the gala and I thought about it for weeks afterward. I couldn’t stop. I’d be in a meeting or trying to sleep, and I’d just—be back there. Thinking about you.” His breath catches. “The same thing happened after the last time we kissed. And I’m afraid that if I kiss you again now, I won’t be able to give you the space you need. That I’ll want too much, too fast, and I’ll frighten you, and I—” He stops and swallows. “I would rather want you forever from a distance than be the reason you flinch.”

The words settle deep in my chest, and my eyes burn.

I turn around in the space between his arms and look up at him.

He’s right there. His blue eyes are bright and completely unguarded, his breathing rough enough that I can see his chest moving. I can see everything he’s been holding back.

“Finn.” My voice comes out barely above a whisper. “I felt it too. Every time we kissed. I felt it and it terrified me.” I hold his gaze. “I feel it now. I’m not running.”

He stares at me for one suspended second, his thumb tracing my jaw. Then something in him gives. He kisses me, and it’s nothing like restraint.

His mouth closes over mine, warm and hungry, both hands coming up to my face. It’s different from every kiss before because this time there’s nothing between us.

He knows everything. He’s seen my scars. And he’s still here.

I kiss him back. My hands rise to his chest and stop there, hovering, not quite touching. Some part of me is still waiting for the flinch. For him to remember what I am and pull away.

Finn feels the hesitation. He takes my hand and presses it flat against his chest, holding it there.

“Touch me whenever you want, Soph,” he says against my mouth. “You never have to ask.”

My fingers spread against his shirt. I can feel his heart slamming under my palm, and the fact that he’s shaking too—that this steady, golden man is trembling under my hand—undoes something in me.

I let my hands wander over him, and for once I let myself take everything I want.

He makes a sound against my mouth and breaks the kiss, his hands still holding my face. “Sweetheart,” he breathes. “God, I’ve thought about this so many times.”

He lifts me onto the counter like I weigh nothing. The movement brings us flush together, and I feel exactly how much he wants me. Then he’s between my knees, hands firm at my waist, my fingers buried in his hair as he kisses me deeper.