Page 85 of Run Little Omega

"Look what you've done to me," I whisper, my voice rough with restraint. "Seven centuries of perfect control, undone by one blacksmith's apprentice."

Her eyes flutter open, pupils blown wide with lingering pleasure, the amber irises now permanently flecked with my winter blue. She reaches up to trace the cillae glowing across my chest, and I shudder at her touch.

"I didn't know it could be like that," she admits, her voice wonderfully hoarse. Her gaze drops lower, to where my arousal strains painfully obvious. She reaches down with obvious intent, her fingers brushing my abdomen. "Let me?—"

"You don't need to," I capture her wrist gently, bringing her hand to my lips instead.

"But your rut?—"

"Will wait." I press a kiss to her palm. "Tonight was for you."

Her brow furrows in confusion. "I don't understand. Why would you..."

"Because I wanted to see you come apart under my touch." I trace the cillae along her collarbone, admiring how it glistens with her perspiration. "Because I wanted to give you pleasure without taking anything in return. Because..." I hesitate, then admit the truth, "Because I've never experienced anything like watching you find your release."

She studies me with that penetrating gaze that seems to see through centuries of careful walls. "You're not what I expected, Winter Prince."

"Nor you, little omega." I smile, feeling the dangerous edge to it. My voice drops to a growl as I grip her chin, tilting her face up to mine. "But don't worry. Tomorrow night, when we reach the central haven..." I lean close, my teeth grazing the sensitive shell of her ear, "I'm going to hunt you through those ancient grounds. I'll chase you until your body drips with need, until you're begging me to fill you, to knot you so deep you'll feel me for days after."

A visible shiver runs through her at my words, her scent spiking with renewed arousal despite her recent release. She shifts against me, her thigh sliding deliberately against my painfully engorged knot.

"And if I don't want to wait until tomorrow?" she challenges, her hand slipping between us to grasp me with surprising boldness.

I growl, pinning her hand above her head in a swift movement that makes her gasp. "Don't test me, little omega. My control is hanging by a thread."

Her eyes darken, pupils dilating as she arches against my restraint. "What if I want that thread to break?"

I press my forehead to hers, breathing in her scent that's now mingled with my own. "You don't understand what you're asking for. My rut hasn't faded since I first claimed you. If I take you now, after tasting your release on my tongue, I won't be gentle."

"Maybe I don't want gentle," she whispers, sliding her free hand down to where her arousal still glistens on her thighs. My eyes follow the movement, rut surging painfully as she brings her fingers back up, coated in her essence. Before I can stop her, she traces her slick-covered fingertips across my lips.

The taste hits me like a blow, my rut surging beyond control. I growl, low and dangerous, as I flip her beneath me in one fluid motion.

"You want to play with fire?" I grasp her thighs, spreading them wide as I position myself against her entrance without breaching. "Then burn with me."

Her eyes widen, pupils blown with desire as she feels my hardness pressed against her core. Instead of thrusting inside, I slide against her, the length of me gliding through her wetness in a torturous friction that makes her gasp.

"This is what happens when you provoke an alpha in rut," I tell her, voice rough as I establish a rhythm, gliding against her most sensitive spot without giving her what she truly craves. "You get exactly what I decide to give you—nothing more, nothing less."

"Please," she whimpers, trying to angle her hips to take me inside. "I need?—"

"I know exactly what you need," I interrupt, pinning her more firmly as I continue to slide against her. "And tomorrow, when we reach the central haven, I'll give it to you. But tonight—" I lean down to growl against her ear, "tonight you learn what happens when you challenge my control."

Her body responds instinctively to my dominance, a fresh wave of arousal easing my movements as I rock against her. Frost patterns spiral across both our skins, pulsing with each thrust. The pleasure is exquisite torture—so close to what my body demands yet deliberately denied.

My knot begins to swell at the base, throbbing painfully with the need to lock inside her. Fighting every primal instinct screaming to claim, to breed, I maintain my discipline, using only the friction between us to build my pleasure.

When release finally claims me, I spill across her stomach and thighs with a snarl that makes the forest itself seem to tremble. Frost explodes outward from where our bodies meet, coating the furs and ground around us in crystalline patterns.

Briar watches with wonder as I maintain perfect control even in the height of pleasure—my knot fully swollen but deliberately kept from locking inside her. The power of my release paints her skin, marking her as mine without claiming in the traditional way.

"How did you—" she begins, her voice breathy with astonishment and lingering arousal. Her hand reaches between us, fingers trailing through the evidence of my pleasure mingled with her own. The sensation against my oversensitive flesh makes me hiss.

"Seven centuries of discipline has its advantages," I tell her, voice still rough from exertion. "Though none has been harder won than this."

She stares at me with new understanding, her scent shifting to something deeper than mere physical arousal—a respect and heat that suggests her omega instincts recognize something profound in this display of restraint.

"I've never seen an alpha able to..." she trails off, her fingers tracing the still-swollen knot with fascination.

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