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“A… a book about all of this.” I squeezed, and he grunted, pushing harder into my hold. “The differences.”

“You convinced Emma to hunt down a sex book?” The amusement was in his tone now, wrapping around the words like a silent snort of laughter. “Do you realize how shy she is about things like that? I’ve never even seen her hug or hold hands with another person.”

My cheeks heated. “I, uh, gathered that when she acted like I’d asked her to walk through the Central Square naked.”

His laugh skated along my bones. My body tightened, need burning brighter, hotter. My nipples peaked, tight enough they nearly hurt, but he only palmed my knees, holding me open for him.

“Was it informative?” His voice was so low, it rumbled across my skin.

I scented again, tilting my hips in universal invitation even as I flushed.

I nearly squeaked as I whispered, “Very.”

He laughed, low and seductive, and then prowled over me, forcing my legs wider still as he settled between my hips. He ground against me, his cock sliding between my folds, pressing against my clit just enough to have me whimpering without giving me enough sensation to truly build toward an orgasm.

“I wanted to feel you come on my tongue and remind myself of the way you taste,” he whispered as he settled on his elbows, his hands twisting into my hair. “But then you decided to push me right to the edge, and your scent is so strong it’s making me wild.”

“You’re the one who took my pendant,” I managed to gasp. He laughed and then lightly bit one of my nipples. I groaned and writhed beneath him. Need was a tide flowing higher, threatening to drown me.

“You asked me to.” His breath skated over the sore flesh, and I whimpered.

My voice fluttered as much as my heart in my ears. “Did not.”

Totally did.

He ran his lips across my sternum and up my other breast, licking the peaked nipple before biting it, too. He hummed as I squirmed beneath him, palming his sides to try and bring him closer to me. He adjusted his hips, pushing in the slightest amount, and I swallowed a whimper.

His voice lost the sultry edge, replaced by a blunt need for an answer as he looked up. “This is okay?”

“Yes, it’s good. So good. Please, Callum.”

He sank into me with one long, slow intrusion that stole my breath and curled my toes in equal measure. I’d fantasized these last several nights of what this would be like with him, how he would feel inside me and around me, consuming my senses, but every picture I created paled in the reality of his heat and weight, his strength. He was big enough the stretch bordered on pain, and I swore I could feel him in my throat. He eased out, twirling his tongue around my abused nipple, and then rocked back in, faster than before.

The orgasm roared up, entirely unexpected, blinding me as my back arched and my nails dug into his skin. He covered my mouth with his, breathing in every cry and moan that fell from my lips, the incoherent mess only driving him faster, deeper. He grabbed my leg, pressing it up and out without ever pausing or slowing.

“This is okay?” The words weren’t even winded.

I only moaned and raked my nails down his back, clenching around him as he drove into me even harder, pushing me up the bed with the force of his movements. The new angle was somehow even more intense, and with each thrust, I felt his knot at my entrance. The anxiety over how it would fit, how I would stretch for it, faded away under the knowledge that I wanted it, wanted him, wanted to know how it would feel to be claimed by him in that way. There weren’t any firsts I could give him, not aside from this. And gods did I want to give it to him.

Impossibly, pleasure gathered in my blood, pooling behind my clit and pulsing in my nipples. I was going to come again, fall apart under him with nothing but his mouth on mine and him fucking me hard enough the bed shook with it. He wasn’t even grinding into my clit, and I was about to sees stars. Vanilla pulsed from me, stronger than I’d ever experienced, and his scent wove through it, that blend I’d missed all week.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. He ran his lips across my jaw and behind me ear, biting the soft bit of skin just below the translation spell. I clenched again, tighter than before, and his pace faltered.

“You can’t move,” he whispered as he pressed a kiss to the hollow of my throat. “Not a fucking inch, Amethyst. Understand?”

His pace faltered again, and his hold on my leg tightened to the point I was pretty sure I’d have bruises.

I nodded. “Y-yes,” I managed to gasp. “I won’t move.”

He muttered a curse and then froze, his hips flush with mine, his knot barely resting against my entrance. Callum’s breathing was jagged as he moaned, the sound a bolt of pleasure straight to my core. I clenched, and he grunted. He rocked his hips, and his knot pressed into me just enough that I felt the beginning burn of its stretch. All at once, I needed it. Needed to feel it, needed to know it stretched me open, forced us together until it subsided. Without thinking of my assurance a minute earlier, I wrapped my legs around his waist and tried to pull him closer, urge him to take me this one final way I’d never known.

Callum stiffened.

“Sterre,” he growled, a warning shot.

I couldn’t stop, though, that primal thing in me, that omega nature needed this more than breathing. I only tightened my legs.

In the blink of an eye, he shoved my legs off of him and pulled out. Inexplicably, unrelated to the trauma of the assaults, tears welled and then fell over my lashes before I could blink them away. He was there a heartbeat later, kissing them away and nuzzling my throat.