Page 204 of Stolen Omega

I step into the bathroom and switch on the light. “It looks big enough for two.”

He gapes at me for a second, clearly not believing the invitation.

Then he nods slowly, pushing his shock down and stepping into the bathroom.

He closes the door quietly, and I turn the shower on.

I knew the moment we met that we were pack.

I had no damn idea we were mates, too.

The way he’s staring at me as I look at him, I know he’s wondering when I managed to figure that out. I can’t deny I felt a little stab of jealousy watching him groaning under Cam.

Alphas are supposed to be the first to claim their mates when Betas are involved.

I haven’t been the first to claim any of my mates, and I know that’s because I’ve let other rules dictate my life. Well, that mistake doesn’t get to haunt me anymore.

I’m not letting anything stop me from claiming my mates.

I won’t ever hesitate when it comes to my instincts again.

“I’m sorry,” I start, taking a step closer to him.

He frowns. “It’s okay …” he says, turning to leave.

“No,” I clarify. “It’s not. I was so focused on Zelena that I didn’t notice you.”

He turns around, his bright eyes wide. “You don’t need to be sorry about that. It’s okay if it’s not … If I’m not …”

“You’re mine, Russ. I want to claim you. I’ve been hiding from my feelings for too long, but I’m not going to do that anymore. You deserve better than that.”

“You want to claim me,” he whispers, his gaze darkening.

“You’re my true mate. I’m sorry it took me so long to see that.”

He smiles. “You don’t need to apologize for that.”

I lean in close, and he shivers when I kiss the mark I gave him years ago.

It’s on his collar, where it’s always hidden under a shirt when he’s dressed.

“Though, if you really, truly, want to apologize, you’ll mark me where it shows,” he murmurs.

My teeth sharpen at the invitation. “Before or after I’ve claimed you?”

“During,” he says, giving me a flash of a grin.

I grab two towels from the rail beside us and toss them down on the floor.

“Lay down on your back.”

He does what I tell him, arranging the towels under him and parting his legs.

Without an Omega’s slick, we’re going to have to improvise for lubricant.

After finding a bottle of baby oil under the sink, I bring it over as I kneel between his spread legs.

“I’ve dreamt about this,” Russ tells me.

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