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Then, the truth hits me like a truck.
Camden, Memphis and I aren’t the problem. Brooklyn doesn’t want to go home.
I run my hand along her arm, hoping my touch might help her. Her gaze is perfectly lucid as she looks up at me.
“Why do you want to stay out here?” I ask. “Why don’t you want to go home?”
She doesn’t answer. She stares back at me, making it crystal clear that she’s not going to answer me. The longer I’m close to her, the more my body reacts to her. My cock is diamond hard, leaking precum. My pulse is rapid, and I know my pupils are probably blown out by now. I must look like a fucking wolf drooling over his dinner.
I should wait for her to take my deal. Even though she’s got some reason she’d rather be alone out here in the woods instead of pampered inside Castle’s mansion, the fact is, she’s not safe here. If I really want to take care of her, the best thing I could do is make sure she gets home.
But a bigger part of me just wants to fuck her, deal or no deal. I’m so ready for her that I’m practically panting at the thought of tasting her. Forget the mission, forget Castle—there’s an Omega right in front of me, and she needs me. Not Camden or fucking Memphis, me. She’s been wearing my jacket because part of her knew, from the moment I saw her, she was already mine.
Before I can tell her that I don’t care what she says, that I’ll knot her anyway, Brooklyn nods.
“Please,” she asks, her full lower lip trembling. “Please, Denver, it hurts so much. I need your cock. It’s the only thing that will make me feel better. I need you inside me so badly. I…I’ll cooperate. I’ll go with you, just please take the pain away. Please knot me.”
I growl, and press my lips hard against hers.
Hard. Feral.
Desperate.
The kiss is raw and needy. In seconds, my body’s covering hers, both of us practically clawing to get close to each other. Her nails scrape down my back, and for a moment I think she might tear the fabric to get at my skin. I grab her dark hair in my fist and pull her head back, letting me look at her one more time before I take her.
“You beg so beautifully,” I whisper. “How can I say no?”
She’s wearing my clothes still, and as much as I fucking love it, I need to see her bare. I don’t waste time tugging off the shirt and pants, until she’s naked on top of the sleeping bag. The skin on her slender legs pebbles in the cold air, rosy pink nipples rock hard.
I can’t help lowering my head to take one in my mouth. My tongue swirls and flicks them, making her arch her back and let out one of those perfect cries. I kiss and suckle her perfect breasts while she writhes against me. She needs to be knotted soon, but I love how she responds to me. I have to explore her body just a little longer. Find out what kind of touch she loves. Instinct tells me she likes it rough.
So I suck on a nipple, hard. She cries out, and my cock jerks at the sound.
“Please,” she begs again. “I need to see you.”
She doesn’t need to ask me twice. I rip my shirt off, hearing a tear in the fabric as I yank it over my head. Right now, I don’t give a fuck. I don’t even have a chance to get my pants off before Brooklyn’s reaching for me again. Her fingertips trace the scars across my chest, from the slash on the side of my ribs to the marks on my lower abs.
I’ve lived a violent life, and I bear the proof of that on my skin. Other women have flinched, seeing me naked. It’s not that I’m disfigured—it’s the reality of my brutality. I’m marked by the weapons of my opponents, who endured far worse from me.
Brooklyn isn’t scared. She seems fascinated, touching me with a gentleness I’ve never experienced. I shiver at her touch, which feels as permanent as any of my scars.
Before she can finish exploring me, she cries out again. This time, it’s the pain. We’ve reached the limit for foreplay—she can’t go any longer without my knot, and we both know it. Her shaking hands move to my belt buckle, but she’s too shaky and needy to manage it on her own. I push her hands away, tearing off my belt and pants. Finally, we’re both completely bare together on the sleeping bag. Brooklyn’s eyes widen as she takes in my cock.
“It won’t fit,” she says, sounding dazed. Still, she takes me in her hand, stroking me like she couldn’t stop herself if she wanted to. My cock twitches in her grip.
“It will,” I murmur. “It might hurt a little at first, but you can take it. Afterward, I promise, I’ll make you feel so good.”
I know I’m big, even for an Alpha, but I don’t have time to prepare her like I want to. She needs a knot too soon. I press two fingers into her slick channel, stretching her quickly. She keens, her fingers tightening on my shoulders until I’m sure her nails will mark me. Good. Let anyone see this Omega left her mark on me, just like I’ll leave mine on her.
Withdrawing my fingers, I push into her. Her pussy stretches to take in the head of my cock, but she’s so fucking tight I don’t dare push any further. Her taut inner muscles push against the intrusion, and she buries her face in my neck, seeking refuge from the intensity of the pleasure and pain.
I grit my teeth, barely able to handle the sensation myself. Her pussy molds itself against my cock, and it’s better than my filthiest fantasies.
“Fuck, you feel amazing.” I groan. “So hot and wet for me, a goddamn dream.”
“So good, Denver,” she echoes. “So big.”
The last words are pained and tense. I grit my teeth, and it takes every ounce of discipline drilled into me to stop from pushing in further. I think of her slender hips, her tiny frame—fuck, I feel like I could rip her in half.
