Page 93 of Let It Snow
He’s inside me, we’re connected, and suddenly I realize…I know what he’s thinking beneath all of this!
Beneath the raging hormonal rut… I can sense what he feels, like I’m really inside his head. I blink in shock as his thoughts drift past like clouds across a wide sky.
Snow… he’s sad.
Underneath the arousal, the release, there’s happiness too, joy that we’re finally connected, that it happened, but also a deep sense of regret that it’s unfolding like this.
That he can’t tell me what he feels, can’t show me tenderness, because I’d shut it down. He knows I wouldn’t let him.
That realization breaks my heart all over again, and makes me angry, too, because he’s the one who caused this. He’s thereason we can’t have what we’re both secretly craving right now. He robbed us of that, and now this is just ‘a heat’ with no space for something vulnerable.
And yet, ironically… being inside his thoughts gives me somethingback.
Because even if he can’t give it to me here, in some twisted way, I still feel it.
It’s like his mind is showing me a second version of this moment: softer, sweeter. In it, he’s kissing me tenderly, whispering quiet words, his hands gentle, our breaths synced. That image wraps around me, filling some empty part of me, and I realize I’m crying, tears slipping down my cheeks.
At least he didn’t take that away. Well, he did. And didn’t. It’s complicated!
I just clench my teeth, holding back the mix of sadness and longing for a version of us that could’ve been simpler.
"Just fuck me, Snow," I whisper, my voice hoarse. "Fuck me until it stops hurting. Until it burns out."
"Alright, Summer," he murmurs. Then he lowers himself, now his lips are brushing along my neck, tracing the tendons, grazing my scent gland. The touch makes me tremble.
His cock starts moving inside me in a slow, steady tempo; his body, heavy, hard, unrestrained, and powerful, pressed against me just like I’d fantasized before, the body of a dominant alpha.
Thrust.
Thrust.
Thrust.
I surrender.
I surrender to the feeling of being owned, give myself to Snow. Even if I don’t say it out loud, right now, in this moment, I’m fully his, completely his. I lift my arms and wrap them around his shoulders, pulling him closer, tracing the powerful knots of muscle in his neck and back. I won’t tell him, butmy body does—I show him with my gestures, how incredible it feels to be in his embrace. My body vibrates, my hole pulses, clenching around him, sending little ripples of orgasm through me, fluttering around his shaft, milking it.
The rhythm of his body rubbing against mine becomes even, grounding. His weight, his strength, the touch of his warm skin: all of it is intoxicating.
I’m letting myself belong to him, riding a series of small, typical heat orgasms, like waves.
Typical? It’s not knowledge that belongs to me, it’s Snow’s. I know exactly how it works for omegas, almost as if I’ve lived through many heats myself. His experience guides me now. I know that waves of heat usually conclude through a series of small climaxes, one following another like notes in a rhythmic song.
But even they aren’t enough anymore. At this stage, my heat has already gone too deep, too far into a phase that demands something more, and Snow knows that too.
I drag my hands down his back, over his rock-hard ass, my fingers gripping tight, nails digging in a bit to feel the energy surging inside him too. His tattoos are shining brighter now, the light intensifying.
It’s insane how clearly I can sense his arousal, its force, I canseethe wave of orgasm building in his body, electric sparkles rolling down his spine, and then—
Suddenly, it swells, taking physical form. I realize what just happened:
His knot expanded.
A breath rushes out of me, a mix of relief and pure pleasure.Yes.
What unbelievable luck, my first time ever having sex, and I get knotted right off the bat.
The physical pressure is intense, but the ripe heat momentum handles it perfectly; there’s no pain, no discomfort, just this overwhelming, blissful fullness.
