Page 98 of Pack Me Up
She smiles, a real, unguarded smile, the kind that makes her eyes shine, and she pulls me in, arms looping around my neck.
“I love you too,” she says, and I believe it. I can feel it through the bond.
We fall together, collapsing sideways into the pile of blankets and pillows, her hair fanned out across my chest, my arms wrapped tight around her shoulders. The violin is forgotten. Nothing matters except the warmth of her body and the steady drumbeat of her heart against mine.
She nuzzles into my throat, the tip of her nose cold against my skin. I kiss her temple, her hair, her cheek, memorizing every inch. Our scents mingle in the air, sweet and sharp andundeniable. I’m not an alpha, but I don’t feel lesser. I feel like I belong, like I’m wanted, like there’s a place for me that nobody else could ever fill.
She slips her hand under my shirt, tracing circles over my ribs, and I shiver at the touch. I hold her tighter, never wanting to let go.
She kisses me, slow and gentle, then pulls back just enough to look me in the eye.
I can’t stop staring at her, at the way the shadows play over her face, at the loose drape of Hunter’s hoodie slipping off one shoulder, at the exposed stretch of collarbone that is begging me to kiss it.
She threads her legs with mine and hooks a foot around my calf. Her scent is everywhere now. The bond mark on my leg is on fire with want for her.
She tucks a hand under my jaw, fingers cold and sure, and draws my face toward hers. Her eyes are darker than usual, pupils blown wide in the lamplight.
She kisses me again.
It’s soft at first, and I’m startled by how gentle it is. Her mouth is warm, insistent, but she holds the pressure for barely a second before pulling back, eyes flicking to mine. When I don’t run, she leans in again, this time slower, lips parting just enough to taste me.
I shudder, all the nerves in my body lighting up at once.
I let my hand find her hip, fingers sliding under the hem of her hoodie. Her skin is hot, soft, prickling with goosebumps. She arches into the touch, pushing closer. The next kiss is messier, wetter, her teeth catching my bottom lip before she pulls away again.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“I love you too,” I say, barely trusting my voice.
She tugs my hand to her thigh, guides it up between her legs. She’s already slick, and the moment my fingers slide in, she arches like she’s been electrocuted.
I roll her onto her back, my mouth hungry for every inch of her. I kiss her jaw, her throat, the sharp collarbone I worshipped earlier. I move lower, nipping at her shoulder, at the perfect slope of her breast, at the line where her ribs meet her stomach. She moans, quiet but desperate, and fists both hands in my hair, pulling me down.
I want to taste her. I want it so bad I can barely breathe.
She opens for me, legs falling apart, and I settle between them, hands bracing her hips. Her scent is dizzying and more potent than any omega I’ve ever known. My tongue finds her, slow at first, just a tease. She bucks, and I go deeper, lapping up every drop, memorizing the shape and feel of her.
She’s gasping now, every breath a new melody, every sound louder than the last. I slide two fingers inside her and curl them, searching for the spot that makes her lose control. It takes only a second before her thighs clamp my head in a vice, and she screams my name.
I pull back just enough to watch her fall apart. Her eyes are shut, lips parted, whole body shaking. She clings to the sheets, knuckles white, and when the orgasm finally lets her go, she collapses, boneless, still twitching.
I crawl up, kiss her mouth, and let her taste herself on my tongue.
“I love you,” I say, voice raw.
She smiles, lazy and sated. “Show me again.”
I flip us so I’m flat on my back and she’s half sprawled over me.
Her hands are everywhere, up my ribs, into my hair, cupping my jaw, and tracing the line of my ear. Every touch is a spark, every inch she uncovers a new fire. My t-shirt is off before I knowit, tossed somewhere into the nest. She drags her nails down my chest, scraping over the patch of skin above my heart. I gasp, the sound embarrassing and needy, but she doesn’t tease. She just moves lower, tongue flicking along my collarbone, lips pressing to every old scar and freckle she finds.
I reach for her, digging my fingers into the dip of her waist. I want to pull her closer, to swallow her whole.
She bites my shoulder, hard enough to sting, and I feel the bond hum, like an electric line, sparking between us.
Her hoodie goes next, slow and deliberate. She peels it off, arms crossed over her chest at first, but then she lets it drop and lets me look. The sight knocks the wind out of me every time.
She leans in, nose brushing mine. “You’re staring again.”
