Page 75 of The Omega Project

“My brave and beautiful mate.”

It’s all he says as he peels off his boxers, his erection a perfect marble shaft with a thick, pink head. I moan at the sight, and he swipes a bead of pre-cum off the tip, leaning forward to push it between my lips. Not soap bubbles this time, but spicy chocolate, as dark and decadent as the look he gives me as I suck his finger clean.

He moves quickly then, and I brace as he slides into me, but there’s no pain, only the buzz of pleasure. I’m touching every part of him that I can reach, digging my fingers in hard enough to leave marks against the shadows of his tattoo. He doesn’t seem to mind, a growl building in his chest as he grips my hips and glides in and out of me. I remember his promise to own me, to drive into me fast and hard, and I clench around him, urging him to go deeper. The buzz has become a tremor in my veins, my pussy weeping something close to slick.

“Harder!” I moan, tilting my hips and clutching at his back. “Everything, Finn.”

But he pulls back a fraction, and I see him clutching the bulbous ridge of his knot. I haven’t taken one as a beta, and seeing it cupped in his hands sends a bolt of alarm straight to my core.

“You can take it,” he says, “But only if you calm your body.”

The word resonates through me like a gong.

“Calm. Is that how you control me?”

“Sootheyou,” he says. “It’s never a command, only a reassurance.”

I nod, too needy to question him further. “Tell me how to do it.”

“Just open yourself to me.” His hands spread my thighs wider, his tip slipping back in. “Relax into the pressure, and my cum will ease the way.”

I try to think of calm things, of cuddles on the couch and picking driftwood up off the beach.Mind over matter, Emily. You can take this knot, or you can die trying.

Not exactly a relaxing thought, but as his knot starts to press against my clit, the pinching pain becomes something else. A dark hunger. A need to stretch for him, to feel the ache in my deepest parts, and to let him own me in every way.

Take me, I tell the wolf.

“I’m in,” he breathes, his chest pressed tight to mine. “And I’m coming. I’m filling every inch.”

I’m so overwhelmed, my orgasm rolls over me like a crashing wave.

Only his knot spares me from drowning, an anchor point that holds me until his mouth brushes my ear. “I’m yours, and you are mine.”

“Yes,” I whisper, pressing up into his bite. “Always, and in every way.”

It’s not the normal vow, but the words dissolve like mist, my body shuddering under his as his bond snaps tight. His knot swells, pulsing so hard I feel his power ripple through my veins. His lips are on my throat, but all I can smell is the musk of wolf, so potent it wrings another orgasm out of me. One last shuddering cry and I drop back into my skin, and then I’m spinning, a leaf on a lake, or a star in the sky. It’s hard to tell when your world is blown so wide, you can no longer see the edges.

“Em?”

It takes me a moment to realise Derek has climbed out of the tub and is hovering over me, his skin glowing in the candlelight. “Em, it wasn’t SOS my heart was tapping out.”

I blink up at him, too blissed-out to move. “No?”

“Nope,” he grins, dipping down for a kiss. “It was ‘I love you’, of course.”

Epilogue

Six weeks later

The sun has left a streak of fire across the ocean as we gather on the beach for our bonding ceremony. We’re all dressed in white, barefoot, our faces sun-kissed from an afternoon in the late summer heat. There’s no fancy pavilion this time, just an avenue of beeswax candles stretching from the sand dunes to the surf, and the heady scent of lavender and sea salt in the air. Soon we’ll go back to the house for champagne and a seafood feast, but for now we’re watching the sun sink into the horizon, hands linked and arms across shoulders as we speak the ancient bonding vow with smiling lips.

“Mine, ours, one pack, now and forever.”

Our friends applaud as we hug and kiss, the surf surging forward to tickle our bare toes. I kiss all my mates, laughing as they nuzzle my marks and I breathe in our mingling scents. The rings we exchanged earlier gleam in the setting sun, simple bands of twisted gold to reflect our interwoven lives. My bonding bites form a silvery necklace around my throat, and when I catch Creed’s eye, I shiver with anticipation.

“Tonight, you’re mine, sweetheart,” he says as I lean into his solid warmth, our hands clasped and our toes brushing in the wet sand.

“And I’m yours,” I reply. Standing on my tiptoes, I murmur against his lips, “Finally.”

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