Page 18 of Mating Mia
I manage to eat the simple meal Jace prepares, which consists of canned soup and crackers found in the cabin’s pantry, and even keep it down, which feels like a victory since I don’t have the slightest appetite during my heat.
I check on my father constantly. I had sat beside his bed for an hour, watching the shallow rise and fall of his chest, studying the face that somehow seemed familiar despite never having seen it before.
But as evening approaches, the heat intensifies again, becoming impossible to ignore.
My skin feels too tight, my breasts ache, and the emptiness between my thighs becomes a gnawing, insistent void. I catch Kane watching me throughout the day, his dark eyes tracking myevery movement, nostrils flaring whenever a powerful wave of need washes through me.
The tension between us builds with each passing hour, a rubber band stretching to its limit, ready to snap. When I finally excuse myself to get a glass of water, I’m not surprised when I hear his heavy footsteps following me to the kitchen.
I’m standing at the sink, glass in hand, when he enters, closing the door behind him with a quiet click that somehow sounds like finality. I don’t turn around, but I feel him approaching, feel the heat of his body as he stops just inches behind me.
“You’re in pain again,” he says, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine. It’s not a question.
“Yes,” I admit, setting the glass down with hands that tremble slightly. “It’s building back up.”
Kane’s hands land on my hips, large and warm through the thin sheet I’m still wrapped in.
“I can help with that,” he murmurs, his mouth close to my ear. “If you’ll let me.”
My breath catches as one of his hands slides around to my stomach, resting possessively over the barely-there swell where our child grows. “But my father?—”
“Is unconscious in a room with the door closed,” Kane interrupts, his fingers splaying wide across my belly. “And Finn and Jace are outside, securing the perimeter. We’re alone, little omega. No excuses this time.”
I should resist, should insist on moving to a bedroom at least, but my body betrays me, pressing back against him, seeking his warmth, his strength, his claim.
“Kane,” I breathe, the fire in my veins growing hotter.
He growls, satisfied, his hands moving to the knot holding my sheet in place.
“I’ve been watching you all day,” he says, tugging the fabric loose. “Smelling your heat. Smelling Jace on you. Do you know what that does to an alpha?”
The sheet falls away, pooling at my feet, leaving me naked and vulnerable in the kitchen. Kane’s hands immediately return to my body, one sliding up to cup my breast, the other dipping between my thighs to find me already wet and swollen with need.
“So ready,” he murmurs approvingly, his fingers gliding through my folds from behind me. “Always so ready for me.”
I gasp as he finds my clit, rubbing me gently, but it makes my knees weak.
“Oh god.”
Kane’s mouth descends onto my neck. His teeth graze the mark he left there months ago—the claim that made me his.
“Bend over,” he whispers softly but with the alpha command injected into his voice. “Hands on the counter.”
I obey without hesitation, bending at the waist, my palms flat on the cool countertop. The position leaves me completely exposed to him, my ass raised, my sex glistening and ready. I hear the rustle of clothing as Kane unbuckles his belt, then the distinctive sound of a zipper being lowered.
“Mine,” he growls, one hand gripping my hip while the other guides his cock to my entrance. “Say it, Mia. Tell me who you belong to.”
“You,” I gasp as the head of his cock nudges against me. “I belong to you, Kane.”
He pushes forward in one mighty thrust, filling me, stretching me around his thick cock. I cry out, the sound echoing in the small kitchen, my fingers curling against the countertop as pleasure radiates to my belly from where we’re joined.
“That’s right,” Kane says, his voice strained with the effort of holding still inside me. “You’re mine. My omega. My mate. Themother of my pup.” His hands grip my hips tightly, holding me in place as he begins to move, each thrust deliberate and deep. “And I’m going to remind you exactly why you should have come to me first.”
He begins to thrust deeper and faster. I bite my lip to hold back from moaning out loud in case anyone hears me.
The counter edge digs into my hipbones, but the discomfort is nothing compared to the pleasure building with each powerful thrust. Kane’s hands are everywhere—gripping my hips, tangling in my hair, reaching around to pinch my nipples or circle my clit.
“Feels so good,” I whimper, my eyes rolling back.
