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“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Not yet, not before our validation. I can’t take you before the Freia rites.”

I nodded even as a foreign grief bloomed under my sternum, leaving a raw ache behind. He pressed a kiss behind my ear and then slid down my body. He licked me, circling my clit and pulling it between his teeth between long, exploratory licks that didn’t seem to care at all that he’d come inside me, that it was probably dripping out of me at that very moment. He traced a few of my scars as he drove me up that cliff and pushed me over the ledge, the climax soft but deep, stealing my thoughts as I arched into him on a breathy groan.

Just as my eyes were managing to focus, take in the room around us, I glanced down and ran my hands through his hair while he rested his cheek on my hip. He traced a finger down my inner thigh. I flushed as I realized it was some of his cum mixed with my slick. I scented, a quick flash that ebbed nearly at once. His eyes were a bright fire as he looked up at me, his lip between his teeth, and pressed his cum back into me.

Holy hell.

I moaned as my head dropped back to the bed. His fingers worked me with a skill that had me writhing beneath him, both overstimulated and desperate for more of his touch.

“This is what you want to ease the ache of having to wait?” His words were a caress. He pressed a kiss to my hipbone and then one of the scars. “Look at me.”

There was that command, soft enough I might not have noticed it if not for that book detailing just exactly what all these differences with alphas and omegas meant. I didn’t even try to resist it. I didn’t want to.

His eyes burned liquid fire. He curled his fingers inside me, and I let my legs fall open, tilting my hips. His smirk had me tightening around him.

“You want me to fill you up, Sterre? Push every single bit of me back into you until I’ve made sure you’re carrying our child?”

He was going to kill me. There was too much pleasure, too much wanton need flowing through my blood, filling my body. I tightened again, and he hummed.

“You do, don’t you? You want me to give you more, hold it here until there’s no question of if you’re pregnant. That’s why you need my knot right now, why you want me to take you before I’m allowed, before we’ve committed ourselves before Freia and fulfilled the Grand Rite. You need to know I’ve given you as much of my release as you can physically take.”

I only managed a ragged moan.

What had happened to happily childfree Amethyst from just a few days ago? I’d left her in the damn garden, apparently, because the picture he painted was so tempting right now. I was half a second from truly begging for it, to have him get me pregnant before we’d even exchanged vows or crowned me or any of the list of things that were supposed to happen before babies.

The three soft knocks on the door were more effective than a bucket of cold water.

Callum pressed his forehead into my hip as he groaned, the sound mournful, and I traced the shell of his ear.

“Amethyst, are you all right?” Shelby’s voice cut through our panting. “It’s time for the play.”

Callum curled his fingers that were still inside me, and I bit back a moan. I’d completely forgotten about the play. I swallowed and tried to remember how to form words.

“Oh,” was all I managed, breathy and needy.

There was a long pause, and then the sound of someone walking down the hall, their boots clipping on the stone. Vincent’s voice was equal parts informative and droll.

“Heath just mentioned Callum’s returned. He handed me the books she apparently left in the larger garden.”

The silence was so pointed, I wanted to crawl into a hole and never look either of them in the eye again. Icepick, meet eyes. Callum carefully pulled his fingers out of me, and I couldn’t quite hold back the gasp.

“Ah. I’ll put them in the smaller sitting room downstairs for her.” Shelby’s voice had morphed from quiet concern to outright humor. “Would you like to join us, then? We have an extra ticket.”

I pressed my hands over my face.

“Sounds wonderful. Shall we?”

Their steps echoed down the hallway.

“I’m never going to be able to look at either of them again,” I admitted, still covering my face. “Oh my gods, that was so embarrassing.”

Callum’s chuckle had no right to curl my toes. “Seems like we won’t be needed the rest of the evening, Sterre.”

That fast, I burned for him again, ached for him in a way that couldn’t possibly be healthy. Vanilla and oranges swept through the room, layering over the older blend of our scents. He ran his lip along the juncture where my thighs met my ass. With a sigh that morphed into a breathy groan, I twisted my hands into his hair and pulled him to my clit.

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CALLUM