Page 38 of Pack Obsession

"You like impossible." Her other hand comes up and traces my jaw. The touch sends electricity down my arms. Fuck, she’s torturing me. "You need it."

"What I need..." I lean closer, inhaling her. "Is for you to stop pushing."

"Or what?"

"Or I might push back."

Her pupils dilate, darkness swallowing brown. "Promise?"

That one word snaps the last thread of my control.

I lean closer, but she moves first, rising on her toes and pressing her lips to mine. The kiss hits like an explosion, shattering every wall I’ve built. Her lips are soft, hesitant at first, then bolder as I respond. She tastes like wild honey, like everything I’ve tried to deny wanting.

My hands slide from the tree to her waist, fingers finding bare skin under her crop top. She gasps into my mouth, the sound breaking something loose in my chest. All my training, all my careful control, undone by one kiss.

"God, you taste like heaven," I murmur against her lips. "Been fighting this since that first day."

She nips my bottom lip.

I lift her like she weighs nothing. Her legs wrap around my waist instinctively, bringing us face to face. The position draws a growl from deep in my chest. One hand tangles in her hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss while the other supports her weight.

"You’re playing with fire, sugar."

"Maybe I like fire." Her fingers slide into my hair, nails scraping my scalp in a way that makes me shudder. "Maybe I like watching your control slip."

She’s responsive, so goddamn responsive. Every touch draws little sounds from her throat—soft whimpers and breathless moans that drive me wild. Her perfume wraps around me, intensifying with her arousal, with an undertone that speaks of approaching heat.

"You’re fiery," I breathe against her neck. "More dangerous than any target I’ve hunted."

"Says the man who tracks people for a living." She arches as I nip her pulse point. "The big bad Alpha, brought down by one little Omega?"

I capture her lips again, harder this time. No hesitation, no gentleness. Just heat and need and the addictive taste of her on my tongue. She meets my intensity, matching it, challenging it. Her legs tighten around my waist as she arches into me, and the friction draws a groan from my throat.

"Nothing little about the way you kiss," I manage when we break for air. My forehead rests against hers, both of us panting. "Nothing little about what you do to me."

"Yeah?" Her fingers play with the hair at my nape. "And what exactly do I do to you?"

"Make me forget protocol." I trail kisses down her jaw. "Make me want things I shouldn’t."

"Like what?"

"Like fucking you right here." The words slip out, and I hear the gasp in her throat. "Making you mine before anyone else can."

She shivers. "That your tactical assessment talking?"

"That’s pure instinct." I breathe her in. "You’re close to heat, you know that?"

"Not that close. I have time." Her voice hitches as I find a sensitive spot below her ear.

"Yet your scent is getting stronger every day." My teeth graze her skin. "Driving me crazy."

"I don’t want to talk about me right now." She rocks against me deliberately, drawing another growl. "Let’s focus on you and how tightly wound you are, needing to always be in control. Gotta let go a bit."

"Not anymore." I capture her mouth again, pouring everything I can’t say into the kiss. All the fear and need and desperate want. I lose myself in the taste of her, the feel of her chest pressed against mine, her nipples so hard, I feel them, and the way she wraps against me like we’re made for fucking.

Made for me.

"Logan..." she breathes my name.

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