Page 125 of Stream Heat
I reached for his hand, the contact sending a subtle current through the pack bonds that connected us. "Show me," I whispered. "Show me what our connection would be."
His gaze pinned me in place, dark and steady. “You’re sure? After everything today?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Because of today,” I breathed. “I need you. I need this.”
His nostrils flared, drawing in the truth of me. The faint crease in his brow smoothed as my scent reached him, open, needy, aching. Something in his expression shifted, a decision settling deep.
He didn’t kiss me right away. Instead, he lowered his head to my throat, inhaling long and slow, as though cataloguing every note of me. His chest expanded against mine, and when he exhaled, his breath was hot over my skin. “You smell like want,” he murmured. “Like you’ve been holding this in for days.”
My fingers curled into the front of his shirt, but he didn’t move to take it off. Not yet. His lips brushed over my scent gland in a barely-there touch that made my whole body jolt. “Sweet,” he said softly, almost to himself. “Ripe. All Omega.”
A low sound escaped me before I could stop it, and he caught it, his mouth curving faintly. “I’ll hear more of that before I’m done with you.”
He guided me back toward the nest with the kind of slow, deliberate control that had always been his signature. His body followed mine down, caging me without pressing me flat. His scent rolled over me, ink and snow, threading into my lungs until there was nothing in the world but him.
He didn’t strip me all at once. His hands were slow, patient, sliding beneath fabric to stroke bare skin before tugging the clothing away in unhurried pulls. With each inch revealed, he bent and inhaled, nose dragging along my shoulder, the curve of my breast, the dip of my waist. Every time, he lingered to draw my scent deep, making a low, satisfied sound in his chest.
By the time I was bare to him, my thighs were already slick, my skin tingling under the heat of his attention. He didn’t rush to touch me there. Instead, he shifted lower, his nose pressing into the inside of my knee before following the path of my thigh, his breathing deepening with every inch.
When he finally reached the source of my heat, his eyes darkened to molten black. “Fuck,” he breathed, the word reverent. “You smell like you’re ready to be knotted already.”
My hips jerked when his breath ghosted over my slick folds, and he smiled like a predator who’d just confirmed his prey had nowhere to run. He dragged the flat of his tongue up my slit, before swirling the tip around my clit. My scent spiked, sharp and needy, and he groaned into me, the sound vibrating through my core.
“More,” I gasped, my hands fisting in his hair.
“You’ll get more,” he said, his voice steady, maddeningly calm. “After I’ve learned every way you like to be touched.”
And he did learn. His mouth explored me with the same precision he applied to everything, switching from languidcircles to focused flicks, gauging every reaction by how my scent shifted under him. His fingers joined in, pressing into me with slow, stretching thrusts until I was shaking.
When he finally pulled back, his chin wet with me, I was breathless, needy.
“Jace–”
“Not yet,” he said, climbing over me again, letting the heavy length of his cock rest against my slick entrance without pushing in.
He lowered himself until he was fully pressed against me, his chest rubbing against my breasts, his mouth at my ear. “Feel that?” he murmured, rocking his hips just enough for the head of his cock to slide against my clit. “I could give it to you now. Fill you. Knot you. But then I wouldn’t get to watch you beg for it.”
My pride frayed fast under the way he moved against me, deliberate, teasing, perfectly measured to keep me strung out without relief.
“Please, Jace,” I whispered, my hands clutching at his shoulders as pressure built inside me. "I need–"
"I know what you need," he assured me, his voice steady despite the effort evident in the tension of his muscles. "I've been watching you, learning you, since the day you arrived."
The admission should have unsettled me, this quiet Alpha studying me so carefully for months. Instead, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Of course Jace had been watching. Observation was his love language, attention his greatest gift.
“But that’s not enough.” His teeth grazed my throat, not biting, just tasting. “Say exactly what you want.”
I swallowed hard, the words trembling out of me. “I want your cock. I want your knot. Please, Jace, give it to me.”
Only then did he push inside, slow enough to make the stretch burn just right. He seated himself to the hilt, his groanrumbling against my ear as he stilled to let me feel every thick, heavy inch of him.
His thrusts stayed steady and deep, each one angled perfectly, grinding in ways that made heat coil tighter and tighter inside me. The tension in his body was palpable—shoulders rigid, jaw clenched—but his eyes never left mine.
“I can feel you gripping me,” he murmured, his voice thick with restraint. “Pulling. Wanting. Your body knows what it’s asking for.”
It did. Every clench of my muscles dragged him deeper, made the broad base of his cock grind against me in a way that was already bordering on too much.
“Say it,” he coaxed, his thumb pressing firmer against my clit. “Say what you’re begging for.”
