Page 74 of Faith and Fury

Following Micah’s lead, I breathe in, deeply, holding the oxygen in my lungs for several seconds before letting it go.

Micah smiles. “That’s it. You’re doing so well.”

Something deep in my stomach tingles at his words. My thighs twitch, fighting the urge to clench around him. His lips graze mine, giving me another taste of that tart sweetness.

“I’ll keep learning,” he murmurs, “until you can tell me anything.”

I fall into his chest, wanting to feel his skin on mine. What are these stupid clothes for, anyway? All they do is get in the way.

Micah gives a muffled groan as my hips grind against his cock—twitching, hardening, beneath me. Slick floods my underwear, threatening to seep through.

“Mm—” Micah gasps. His hands trail back down to my thighs, hooking them around and lifting me up in one fluid gesture.

I don’t argue as he carries me through the dark. I barely register as we crash into my bedroom. I stay wrapped around him, kissing him, craving him.

“We don’t have to do this,” Micah pants as I rip his shirt off.

I chuff in dismay, flipping over so I’m on top. Want you, I sign again.

Finally, he lifts the hem of my shirt over my head. I can’t help but blush at the way he stares, slack-jawed, glossy-eyed. The last time we were doing this, I was a lot less lucid, and lot more demanding.

Maybe that’s the key.

I put his hands on my chest. Touch me. More, more, more.

He barely stifles a groan, rolling my nipples between his fingertips. My back arches, overcome by the sensation, how right it feels.

“You’re beautiful,” Micah growls. “Perfect. Completely perfect.”

Hastily, he helps me out of my underwear, and shimmies free from his boxers.

I position myself above his long, throbbing cock. Teasing his tip against my entrance.

Micah throws his head back. “Faith. Omega. Oh my god.”

Smirking slightly, I sink down, taking him all.

His eyes burst open. “Ah!”

Pleasure and pain fill me with equal force. Fuck, I forgot how surprisingly big he is. I really should've taken that slower.

“Omega.” Micah reaches up, putting his hands on my waist. “Easy, easy. Just … give it a minute. Let yourself adjust.”

Shakily, I nod, even though my inner omega whines at me to ride him as hard and fast as I possibly can. No matter how many times I break, no matter if it makes me cry, I will take him.

Make him mine.

Micah groans, gripping my waist tighter. “Ah, Faith—”

I lean down to kiss him. He threads his fingers through my hair.

“I need—” he breathes, “—to tell—you something.”

I pull back, tilting my head in concern.

“Sit up for me, angel. Just a bit.”

Slowly, Micah raises his hands. I don’t realize he’s about to sign until he looks me deep in the eye, his expression tender. Almost nervous.

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