Page 40 of Knot Their Omega

God, I love her eyes. They’re on the opposite spectrum of mine.

“Astraea,” she whispers. “Or Rae.”

“Or Pretty Omega,” I whisper as I cup her cheek and still her face so I can lightly kiss the corner of her lip. “Though, Little Omega gets that fury spark in your eyes.”

“Ugh,” she groans and leans back just enough to give me a glaring look.

“Maybe we should lean back to Option Tw?—”

As if I’d allow her.

My resistance has dwindled into a blip of hunger, which can only be tamed by this newfound woman who walked into my life.

Literally.

Kissing her, matched with the sweet aroma that only grows with each passing second, invites a level of relief I’ve always envisioned—how it would feel to manifest the reality of having an Omega.

And here she is.

There’s this rooted confidence in thinking this way because I have no doubt in my mind now. Astraea—Rae—is going to be our pack’s Omega. This vibrating connection between us is out of this world.

“Icarus,” I introduce myself between kisses, deepening each connective touch. “God, your lips are so soft.”

She moans in response, trying to control the heated pace between us, but she’s losing the battle because I can’t help but yearn to hear that sound again.

“Keep making those sounds, Astraea,” I encourage because I need it desperately.

Need her more than I dare admit to myself.

To think we were strangers.

Didn’t know each other all this while.

Now look at us.

Kissing as if it’s our last. Touching each other as if we’ve explored and enjoyed every inch of the other’s flesh. Having her hands roam my chest so possessively turns me on in a different way, as if every gliding touch of her soft palms claims ownership.

Our scents intertwine, reminding me that this isn’t a hallucination.

That we match.

Blend.

Are fated for one another.

I can’t track what’s happening, but I don’t fight it. I allow myself to lose control of my Alpha instincts that I’ve suppressed for far too long. It feels odd, but at the same time, I feel a sense of empowerment.

The heaviness in the air is full of lust and heat, and the scent of her slick makes me want to appease her in every way. To take ownership of what turns her on—what makes her drenched between those pretty legs of hers. It leaves me feeling proud—needed—and secretly hoping she wants me more than just the pleasure I’ll give her tonight.

I stop thinking, or else I’ll lose focus of the grand prize before me.

“Astraea,” I whisper her name, not hiding the depth of my voice that’s thick with hunger. The raw deepness proves I’m just as needy for this than I’d dare lead on. “Can I touch you?”

Fuck you… to do all the sinful things running in my wild mind?

“Fuck yes,” she pleads as if I’m answering her prayers. “Do whatever you want, Icarus.”

God…

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