Page 161 of Beautifully Scarred Omega

“Then don’t stop,” I whisper. “Don’t stop any of it.”

His thumb traces slowly over my knuckles. “Sophie.” His voice is low. “Are you sure?”

“Max—” My voice breaks. “I’m ready.”

His hands come up to my face, tilting my head back so I have to look at him, his thumbs tracing slow lines across my cheekbones.

“I love you.” The words come out soft and steady and it is the easiest thing I have ever done.

Max goes still. His thumbs stop moving on my cheeks. His green eyes search mine, and the look on his face—like I’ve just handed him something he’s been waiting his entire life to hold—makes my chest ache.

“I love you because you’re good, Max.” I press my hand harder against his heart. “Because you made me believe I could stop running.”

His eyes go bright and wet, and I watch him fight it—the emotion rising up through him, threatening to break the surface of all that control.

“All my life,” he says quietly, his voice rough and uneven, “that’s all I ever wanted to be. To not be like him.” He swallows. “To be the kind of alpha who would never hurt an omega the way my father hurt my mother.”

“You’re nothing like him, Max.” I cover his hands with mine, holding them against my face. “I—” I swallow. “I know that she would’ve been proud of you. I’m so proud of you. What you’ve done here at Synthera, and now Equinox. It’s going to change everything. She would’ve been so proud.”

His breath hitches. Max Cavill, who holds the world together with his bare hands—his eyes fill and he presses his forehead against mine, his hands still cradling my face.

And that’s when I feel it.

A warmth spreads through my chest, vast and alive, and for one suspended second I feel completely open. There’s no fear in it, no instinct telling me to run. Just Max, his hands on my face, his forehead against mine, and the certainty that I want to be here.

Then my scent breaks free.

I feel it happen—the suppressants giving way under the force of everything moving through me, and suddenly rain and crushed rose petals are pouring off my skin, flooding the humid air of the pool room.

Max inhales sharply. His whole body shudders.

“Sophie,” he breathes. “Your scent⁠—”

“I know.”

It radiates off me, warmer and stronger than before, and Max’s eyes darken as he breathes me in.

He kisses me.

And it’s different from every kiss before it. Deeper. Hungrier. Like everything we’ve both been holding back has finally been given permission to exist.

“Sophie, I want to be with you.” His voice is rough against my lips, his hands tightening on my face. “I don’t know how to explain it. I feel this pull, this incredible pull⁠—”

“I know, Max,” I whisper. “I feel it too.”

We look at each other, and for once there’s nothing complicated about it.

I want him.

I choose him.

“But I want you to be ready,” he says. “I need you to know what you’re getting yourself into.”

I pull him down and kiss him. His tongue slides over mine and I pour everything I have into it—every fear I’ve buried and all the nights I spent convincing myself I’d never deserve this. His hands grip my waist and pull me flush against him and I can feel how hard he is through his sweatpants, and I roll my hips against him and the moan that tears out of both of us echoes off the water.

Then his hands slide down to my thighs and he lifts me. My legs wrap around his waist, my hands fist in his hair, and he holds me up with one arm while the other grips my thigh. The new angle presses his cock directly to my core, and the pressure is so intense I cry out into his mouth. He rolls his hips up into me and the friction sends sparks through my entire body.

“Fuck, Sophie,” he growls against my mouth. “You have no idea what you do to me.”