“What’s that?”
“This.”
I rise on my toes, slide my hand to the back of his neck, and press my lips against his. For one long moment, Darius freezes, his body rigid against mine. Then something gives, and his arms wrap around me, pulling me against his chest as he kisses me back.
I’m not gentle, and neither is he. Nothing about Darius has ever been gentle. His mouth claims mine with the same intensity he brings to everything. Fierce. Determined. His hand tangles in my hair, tilting my head back as he deepens the kiss, and I can feel it in my whole body.
This alpha, who had to become an executioner at sixteen. Who’s carried the weight of two broken packs on his shoulders for a decade. I press closer, fist his shirt in my hand, try to pull him down with me onto the soft grass by the shore.
He stops.
One of his hands comes up and cups my face, and he pulls back just enough that I can see his eyes in the moonlight. They’re dark. Hungry. Barely controlled. And completely certain.
“Not here,” he says. His voice is wrecked. “Not like this.”
“I don’t want to wait, Darius. I want you like this,” I say, putting as much heat into my words as I am feeling.
My words unleash something feral in my alpha, and he grabs my hips and lifts me off the ground. I wrap my legs around his waist, and we are all over each other. Darius grips my ass, and I grind myself against his erection, moaning into his mouth. My scent sweetens as slick soaks my panties, and I fist my hand in his hair.
“I need you, Darius. I need my fated mate.”
Darius drops to his knees, holding me tight against his body, and lowers us down onto the grass. He peels off his jacket and tucks it under my head, and his scent completely surrounds me. My head is swimming, and my body is greedy. I reach for his waistband and begin tugging his pants down, but he puts his hand on mine, stilling it.
I look at him questioningly, and he reaches for my pants instead.
“Let me earn this,” he explains, and he gently slides them down.
I raise an eyebrow at him before I realize what he means. Before I can say another word, his mouth is on me, lapping slow, lazy licks up my centre and flicking across my clit. My head falls back in ecstasy as the heat of his tongue replaces the cold winter air. He laps up my slick like a male possessed, plunging histongue into me for more. I reach for the back of his head and grip his hair, pushing him deeper.
When he adds his fingers to the mix, I’m already panting and flushed, but I want us to come together.
“Darius,” I beg. “Please. You’ve earned me. I need you now. I want to feel your cock inside me.”
I release my death grip on his hair, and he wastes no time ripping off his clothes.
My mouth pops open at the sight of this gorgeous naked male in front of me. He’s staring at me like I’m the only thing in the world right now, and I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner.
I love this male, and if the look in his eyes is anything to go by right now, he loves me too.
I reach for him, and he leans in over my body, bracing himself around me. What started as desperate and frenzied has suddenly become something so much sweeter. He places a hand on my cheek as he lines up with my entrance and enters me slowly.
My body stretches over each delicious inch of him, and it feels like a long-awaited homecoming. He presses his forehead to mine, and as he begins to move, I can feel our breathing sync up.
I never expected him to be so tender with me, but it only adds to the moment. I lock my arms around his neck as he picks up the pace with long, deep strokes, filling me to the brim.
His swollen knot brushes against my over-sensitive clit with every thrust until I’m right on the edge of an orgasm.
“Knot me, Darius,” I whisper against his lips, and with the next thrust, he presses inside me. The sudden fullness breaks me apart. My body shatters around him. I pull his body flush against mine as the orgasm takes control of my body, squeezing his knot with the force of my pleasure. He howls into the night as he comes undone, filling me up completely.
47
Mo
Over the next few days, Sophie grows stronger. She eats more, sleeps less, and speaks more freely. She spends hours on the porch, watching the pack work and calling out suggestions. They listen to her. They remember who she was before, the omega who took care of everyone, knew every pack member’s favourite food, and could settle anything with a soft word and a kind smile. She also has bad days, when she spends the entire day curled in bed, shaking, eyes vacant, but those are becoming less frequent.
The brown wolf remains a constant presence. I catch Sophie watching him sometimes, her expression thoughtful.
On the twelfth day, Sophie joins the gardening crew. She can only work for an hour before exhaustion forces her back to the cottage, but her face glows with accomplishment. The next day, she stays out a little longer. And the next, longer still.