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He peers back at me through the peephole, a strange look on his face. “I can smell you.”
Oh no.
Panic grips me in a chokehold.
I’m about to make a very, very bad decision.
I hesitate, my hand on the doorknob. My rational mind screams at me to send him away, but something – curiosity, desperation, or maybe just the heat – makes me unlock the door. I open it just enough to peek out, my body half-hidden behind it. “Quinn,” I manage, trying to keep my voice steady. “This really isn’t a good time.”
Lavender and bergamot suffocate me, a heady mixture that makes my head spin. The scent seeps into my pores, igniting every nerve ending. A whine spills from my lips before I can stop it. He’s mine. No, really, he is a perfect scent match. Our pheromones dance together, creating an intoxicating harmony that makes my omega instincts howl with recognition.
Quinn’s eyes go wide, confusion flickering across his face before a mischievous glint takes over. “Well, well,” he quips, his nose twitching slightly. “One second you smell like nothing, and the next...” He leans in, pupils dilating. “If I’d known this was the welcome I’d get, I’d have made a house call much sooner.”
We just stare at each other. Horror runs through my veins at my actions. He knows.
Oh God, he knows I’m an omega.
A rush of heat courses through me, and in an instant, Quinn grabs me, lifts me up, and slams me against the door.
He’s my match in every way. I’m so fucked, and I’m not even bouncing up and down on his knot yet.
“You’re an omega,” he accuses.
“You can’t tell anyone,” I whine as I grind on his erect cock pressing against my core. Yes, delicious friction.
“You’re in heat,” he says, somehow holding himself back. Later, I can dissect how much control he has, but right now, I need him to destroy my vagina.
“Preheat,” I say. “Took a suppressant.”
“Aria, you’re burning up,” he says, concern evident in his voice. “Let me help you.”
I grip his wrist, conflicted. “Quinn, I... This isn’t me. I don’t do this.”
His eyes soften, a mix of worry and something else I can’t quite place. “I know. Just let me make sure you’re okay. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
This is a bad idea.
I stare into Quinn’s eyes as conflicted emotions swirl within me. His scent envelops me, heady and intoxicating, igniting desires I’ve long suppressed. I know I should push him away and barricade myself in my room until this temporary madness passes, but the fever in my blood sings for his touch and my traitorous body molds itself against him.
His eyes blaze with that primal hunger unique to alphas, but beneath it, I sense his restraint. He waits for my permission, my acceptance. The thought of giving in terrifies me, but denying this feels impossible and need burns through me.
I relax my grip on his shirt and trail my fingers down his chest. His heart hammers against my palm, matching my own frantic rhythm.
“I…I can’t,” I whisper, torn between desire and fear. “This isn’t me, Quinn. I don’t do this.”
He steps back, giving me space. “I understand,” he says softly. “We don’t have to do anything. Let me just stay and make sure you’re okay.”
His unexpected gentleness chips away at my resolve. Maybe…maybe just this once, I can let someone in. “Okay,” I murmur. “But just…go slow.”
He smiles softly and brushes a strand of hair from my face. It’s a silent promise. He will take only what I’ll give.
The first brush of his lips melts my doubts, igniting an inferno. We come together like two stars colliding—fiery and inevitable. Enveloped in his arms, I am safe, cherished, and whole.
It’s a fleeting feeling, one I brush away like an annoying fly. This is just an omega and an alpha coming together.
As Quinn’s lips caress mine, the world around us melts away, and I cling to him like a spider monkey. His kisses are like wildfire, consuming every part of me, and I burn for more. His hands roam my body, mapping my curves, while mine tangle in his hair, pulling him closer.
His scent engulfs me now, the intoxicating mix of lavender and bergamot enveloping me in a cocoon of desire. His fingers dance along my jawline, tracing the column of my neck, and I can’t help but arch into his touch. He growls low in his throat, spurring me on.
