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I’ll never get tired of her taste, or the little sounds she makes when she’s enjoying what I do to her.
Mine.
“Yours,” she agrees between kisses, and I realize I’ve spoken out loud.
I growl at her confirmation, then bring my lips to her mating gland.
She stiffens in my hold as I suck the sensitive spot, her scent blooming around us.
It’s so tempting to just sink my teeth into her.
And the irrational part of me wants to do it. To feel my soul tied to her, to have us permanently connected?—
“Oh no,” she gasps, pushing back from me.
I snap out of my lust-filled stupor. “What is it, baby?” I ask, reading the panic on her face.
Maybe she regrets telling me she loves me.
Maybe she’s decided that she’s better off with just Landon and Vincent, and tired of dealing with my bullshit.
“Oh,” she repeats, a hand going to her stomach as she moves off my lap.
Alarm bells sound in my mind. I don’t know what the fuck is happening or why she looks terrified, but I’m ready to light this fucking town on fire to make it stop.
“Baby? What’s wrong?”
“It’s starting,” she whispers shakily. “I can feel it. And it hurts. It hurts.”
As she says it, a thick wave of sweetness hits the air. The pure, concentrated scent of Omega.
Skylar’s Heat is starting.
34
SKYLAR
How embarrassing that a love confession is what finally starts my Heat.
I read the pamphlets that detailed what to expect after suppressant withdrawal, but experiencing it is another thing entirely.
Within seconds, sweat drips down my back, and my womb cramps so hard tears fill my eyes.
I can’t even make it off the couch.
“I’m sorry,” I gasp to River, who looks at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“Sorry?” he repeats. “Fucking sorry for what?”
“For this,” I choke out. “For all the side effects. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”
“You really are fucking crazy,” he mutters, stroking my back. “It’s a fucking honor that you even want me here.”
“Please…there should be some water in the fridge, and a heating pad?—”
“It’s in the side closet,” River says, already off the couch and opening the fridge. “We have the checklist. It’s taken care of.”
“The what?” I turn to him, grimacing. “What checklist?”
