“You’re so fucking annoying,” she says, but her voice is husky, her pupils blown wide.
I grin up at her. “You like it.”
“Shut up.” She grabs my face between her hands and crashes her mouth against mine.
This kiss is nothing like the firefly clearing. That was sweet. This is hungry and desperate. Her tongue slides against mine, and I moan into her mouth. My hands find her hips, pulling her harder against me, and she grinds down, creating friction that makes my head swim.
“Fuck,” I gasp when she pulls back to breathe.
She laughs, “You like that, Dandelion?”
Her hands are everywhere. In my hair, on my chest, nails scraping down my stomach. I arch up into her touch, my hips moving on their own, seeking more pressure, more friction, more of her. She rocks against me, and the motion sends sparks up my spine.
“Is this what you wanted?” she asks, her voice breathy as she grinds down again. “To get me all worked up with your ridiculous dance?”
“Working, isn’t it?” I can barely get the words out.
She leans down, her lips brushing my ear. “Shut up.”
I flip us over, pinning her beneath me on the porch. For a second, I worry I’ve crossed a line. An alpha pinning an omega who’s been through what she has. She looks startled for a moment, but then she wraps her legs around my waist and pulls me closer.
“Don’t stop,” she says against my mouth.
I roll my hips against hers, and the friction makes both of us gasp. Even through our clothes, I can feel how hot she is, how perfectly we fit together. My wolf is howling inside me, urging me to claim her, mark her, make her mine. But I hold back. This is Blue’s show. Her pace. Her choice.
She arches up, meeting my movements, her hands clutching my shoulders. I kiss down her neck, careful not to leave marks, though my wolf protests. When I find the spot where her neck meets her shoulder, she makes a sound that nearly undoes me.
“You’re killing me,” I say against her skin.
“Good.” She tugs my hair, pulling my mouth back to hers.
We’re both panting now, moving together, the friction building with each thrust. She’s grinding up against me like she needs this more than air, and I match her pace, pressing her harder into the wooden porch.
“Elias,” she pants against my mouth, “There. Right there.”
I can feel her trembling beneath me, her thighs tightening around my waist as I rock against her. The pressure is building, coiling tighter with each movement. Her hands are in my hair, pulling almost painfully, but I don’t care.
“I’m close,” she says, her eyes wild. “Don’t stop.”
I couldn’t stop if I wanted to. My hips move faster, harder, the denim between us creating the perfect friction. She arches up, her body going taut.
Then she breaks. Her eyes squeeze shut, her mouth pops open, and she shudders against me. The sight of her coming undone pushes me over the edge. Pleasure crashes through me, and I bury my face in her neck to muffle my groan.
She pushes at my chest, and I roll off her, collapsing beside her on the ground. We lie there side by side, looking up at the sky, going dark.
“Your dancing still sucks,” she says after a minute.
“That’s not what your body just told me.”
She punches my arm. “Shut up.”
“Make me,” I say, turning my head to look at her.
The smile she gives me is slow and wicked. “Maybe later.”
Later. There’s going to be a later.
I reach over and take her hand, lacing our fingers together. She doesn’t pull away; instead, she nuzzles into me.