Page 25 of Outback Mate
Mate. Claim. Keep.
It’s a whisper of our bond. Weak without a claiming bite to tie us together, but it’s undeniably there.
“It’ll be alright. I won’t leave you,” I vow. I don’t think I could make myself leave even if I tried.
I’m losing it.
Barely an evening in her company and I’m abandoning my resolve. My moral compass. Don’t fuck a patient. Don’t mate an Omega who is too good for you.
I realise how deeply the instinct to claim my Omega has burrowed under my skin. Ignoring our connection didn’t stopit from happening. It was ridiculous to think I could hide from something as biological, so inevitable, as scent matches.
The moment I caught her scent, I was done for. And now, her asking me to protect her, to stay by her side, has lit a spark inside me. The Alpha who has been buried beneath my aura sickness is breaking free.
My body is shaking, and my hands tighten on her arm as my aura sickness pulses inside me, fighting against my body like a dying creature. Each clap of thunder makes Poppy flinch and strikes at my icy facade, cracks forming rapidly. My instincts rise, urging me to sink into her warmth. To feel that heat, and give myself up to it.
My vision blurs as her soft skin warms beneath my touch, but it’s the little sounds she makes that cause my knees to go weak and my knot to ache. It’s partially inflated, straining for my Omega’s sopping cunt. I can smell it, the slick leaking between her thighs.
“Alpha?”
Fuck, why can’t I say anything? The words are clogged in the back of my throat. It’s a miracle that I haven’t passed out from the blood rushing from my head straight to my cock. I feel dizzy. I don’t know how much more I can take before I break.
“Alpha,” she repeats, her voice strained. “Please.”
She doesn’t know what she’s asking me.
She doesn’t know me. She doesn’t understand who she’s pleading to. I’m not someone who can give her a happy mated life. She’ll always be left feeling frozen out. There will be no public displays of affection and no deep connection. Even if mating my scent match cures my aura sickness, my personality isn’t suited to the neediness of an Omega.
“I can’t,” I say, even as I press closer, running my hand up and down her arm, feeling the goosebumps raise at my touch. “It’s not right.”
My voice is hoarse with arousal and desire.
She’s a shadow in the darkened room, the occasional flash of lightning illuminating her alluring form. It’s enough to draw me in, hunting to see her features. I want to see her pretty pink parted lips and the desire flashing in her eyes.
She moans and I growl, low and long, before I realise I’m doing it. I have no self-control; this is not like me. She’s turning me inside out.
Poppy makes little mewling sounds on each inhale.
I know the effect my growl and touch is having on her. I don’t trust myself to speak again. I’m one growl away from sinking my knot inside her. I should stop. It’s not fair to either of us.
“Doc. I think you should give me a checkup.”
A checkup?
“Why? What’s wrong?” I snap, immediately concerned and trying to think like a doctor. “Is it your head? The wound?”
“I feel hot all over.” She inhales a stuttering breath.
Is it an infection? Already?
I press my hand to her forehead. She’s definitely running a fever; her skin is scorching hot, and not just because of the sunburn.
“Do you have any other symptoms?” I ask, trying my hardest to remain professional, but I don’t pull my hand away. Under the guise of examination, I trail my fingers down her face. Over her round cheek, along her jawline, before stopping at her chin.
“My body… it aches.”
I cock my head. I skim my thumb over her full bottom lip and croak, “Where does it ache?”
She shifts, squirming on the bed and parts her lips with a soft sigh. I run my thumb back and forth, dipping the tip into the heated wetness between her lips.
