Page 96 of This Pack of Ours

He adjusted, moving his arms above me, and I got glimpses of the slight muscle on his arms tensing as he braced and started to move. I could feel him pounding inside of me, my muscles clamping around him. My legs were tangled tightly around his waist, pulling him as close as I could, needing us to be one. For me to be his and him to be mine, to live in this moment forever. He was panting, our breathy moans hitching with every thrust. For the first time, harmonizing together, just us.

It was everything.

I could feel my release, building and singing, and it just took one last glimpse of him above me, his head bent into his elbow, his tooth biting into his lip as his face scrunched up in pleasure and I was there. My body was squeezing him in waves as my orgasm tore me apart, better than every dream I’d had of him.

I could only cling to him, cling to that solid frame, and I felt him lean down over me, sweeping my hair aside. His lips brushed my neck and I cried out again as his teeth broke my skin, biting hard. Kit bloomed in my head, his own rapture crashing into mine, and I heard him groan as he poured out inside me, and I gasped as heat flooded my core becausefucknothing had ever felt that good. It was like his cum was its own drug, and my vision spotted as I came apart again, clutching him desperately. Shit. no one else hadeverexperienced that from him.

He’d taken me and claimed me.

Mine.

My neck throbbed with the proof of it.

He slowly lowered himself to me, pulling me into a hug, his arm rubbing my back, and I closed my eyes, taking him in. My breathing slowed as I floated through this moment.

“Oh shit,” Kit said, panic flaring through our new bond. My eyes snapped open, and the spell was broken.

This was Kit, and me, and we’d just fucked in a car because of my fucking heat spike.

“God, I’m so sorry, Juni, I didn’t mean to?—”

His hand fluttered at my neck, his eyes wide as he looked at the bite he’d given me. I’d dreamed for years that he’d bite me again, but not like this. Not when it meant nothing, just a mistake he’d made in the heat of the moment. I struggled away from him; the pain in my heart was hot and sharp, clogging my throat, making my eyes burn.

“No, this was my fault.” My voice was raw. “Fuck. I shouldn’t have asked you to do that.”

He bit his lip, wincing.

“Did it work?” he asked tentatively.

I nodded. The heat spike had faded. My heart was thundering in my chest as I turned to face him. His head was still down, and I could still feel the shame and regret pouring from him, making me want to puke.

“Good,” he said, trying for a smile. He looked awkward, uncomfortable, his face red as he tucked himself back in his pants. “Yeah, I know how it is. Now you can make that meeting. You should go to a clinic, though, and get checked out after?”

“Right,” I said, the bile surging up in another miserable wave. God, I should have done that days ago and maybe avoided this whole thing. “I’ve got a bag… somewhere.”

I scooted back on the seat, rummaging around underneath for the pack, trying to keep it together.

Wipes, change of clothes, and emergency scent blockers.

I shoved the wipes toward him and started trying to clean myself up. We didn’t talk as I changed my clothes, breaking out the bottle of scent dampener to douse myself. I scooted to the door and got out hurriedly.

“You sure you don’t need me to come?" he asked, but he must have seen the expression on my face because he backed off.

“Oh. Right. Top secret.” He tried for a light smile, and I had to look away. “I don’t have a change of clothes anyway. I can go home, and pick you up after?”

“No. You’re right. I should go to a clinic after.” I squeezed my eyes shut, and picked up the to-go bag I’d packed. “And I’ll… move out to the Safe House tonight. This was all my fault. And you’ve got your pack to look after you now, and my head is fine, and you have your new nest so I really should give you guys some space.”

“Oh. Okay. Yeah, that makes sense," he said, and horrible tension thrummed down the bond between us. How had it gone from that perfect, blissful moment in the car to this terrible, crushing weight so fast? I checked my phone. Eight minutes until my appointment—I had to run.

Kit opened his mouth, looking like he was about to say something, but I cut him off.

“Shit, sorry I gotta go,” I said. “Just—blame me, okay? I’m so sorry, Kit.”

I held his miserable gaze for one more second, hating myself, hating that I couldn’t stay, and then I was running away from the car, away from Kit. I didn’t know when I would see him again. Perhaps, it was best if I didn’t.

The guilt was weighing more and more on me.

Shit. He had apacknow. A scent match.

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