Page 57 of Mark & Don't Tell

We’re nearly to the helicopter. My grip on the wheel is so tight, my knuckles ache. Daria has been making conversation, but I’d have to be an idiot to miss the need rolling off her in delicious, richly scented lavender waves.

My omega is needy.

I side-eye her, and she chews on her cheek, discreetly pressing her thighs together.

Nope. Don’t like that.

Without thinking, I cut across the open lanes and take the first exit, parking in the lot of some hotel.

“Um,” Daria says with a laugh. “It’s a little early for a room, don’t you think?” Her voice is breathy, and I bet if I got us one, she’d be more than happy. But I can’t rut her on the first date.

I mean, I could, but mostly, I want to get to know her. Something I can’t do with her desire invading my every sense. Placing my hand on her seat, I unbuckle myself and turn to face her. “We’re not getting a room.”

Her face falls.

“But I am going to take care of you, so we can go and have dinner like I planned.” I run my fingers over her knee. “Will you let me take care of you?”

She swallows and nods, almost timidly. Someday, we’ll talk about why she’s so nervous about her body’s desires, but for now, I grip her knee and wrench it away from the other one, spreading her legs. My palm glides over the fabric of her jeans.

Daria’s breathing is shallow, her chest heaving as my hand cups her cunt.

I groan. “Fuck, babe. You’re so wet, you’ve made a mess of yourself.”

“Good thing the material is dark, and no one can tell.”

Lifting my gaze to meet hers, I grind the heel of my palm down and watch as her mouth parts. “I don’t need to see it to know your pretty little clit is begging for my attention. Your scent let me know that.” I lean across the center console and run my nose over her throat, breathing her in.

She shudders and presses into the heel of my hand.

For a second, I consider getting a room, but I know better. I’m so hard, and with her scent this rich, if I had her in a room with a bed, we’d never leave.

I withdraw my hand from between her legs to pull my seat back, smirking at the little sound of protest that tumbles out of her. The seat reclines enough to give her plenty of room to climb into my lap, which she does without needing to be asked.

My lips tugging into a smile, I grab her hips, helping her settle against my throbbing cock.

“Oh, fuck,” she whispers.

Flicking her pants open, I yank them halfway down her ass, exposing a lacy thong that’s soaked with her slick. As the musk that’s been driving me wild slams into me, I curse, looking her dead in the eye.

“You have no idea how much I want to knot you.”

She rocks over my length. “So, why don’t you?”

I shake my head. “We have plans.” Tugging her thong aside, I run my thumb through her heat, finding her clit in a matter of seconds.

“We can go to dinner after,” she suggests.

With that permission, I waver. She’s offering me everything. I could take it like a greedy fuck, but I want this to be about more than sex and knots. I want her to know I’m not using her to get off. I don’t want there to be any doubt about my intentions.

“Daria,” I purr, moving my hand so I can push two fingers inside of her.

She hisses.

“As much as I want to knot you”—I find her G-spot and stroke it—“I want you to enjoy our date. The only reason I pulled over was because you were clearly needy, and I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving you wanting.”

“But what about you?”

“Don’t worry about me,” I tell her, pressing on her clit and G-spot at the same time.

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