Page 82 of False Catch

"Embarrassed," she mumbles against my skin.

"Don't be." I stroke her back in long, soothing lines. "You've been holding us together by sheer force of will. Something had to give."

She pulls back to look at me, eyes red and puffy but clearer than they've been in days. "This is the second time you've seen me fall apart."

"Won't be the last."

She reaches up, traces my jaw with careful fingers. "You're not what I expected."

"What did you expect?"

"Someone easier to handle."

I catch her hand, press it flat against my chest where my heart hammers. "I've been going easy on you."

"And now?"

"Now I'm done with easy."

I kiss her, and it's nothing like our first time. That was heat and rut, biology driving us toward relief. This is deliberate. Calculated. I know exactly what I'm doing as I claim her mouth, swallow her gasp, teach her what it means to truly let go.

She melts into me, all that rigid control dissolving under steady pressure. When I bite her lower lip, she whimpers. When I fist my hand in her hair, she moans.

"Bedroom," I tell her, not asking.

She nods, beyond words.

I carry her because I can, because she needs to feel how easily I can move her, protect her, care for her. The bedroom is simple, just a queen bed, a dresser, and a nightstand, but it's enough.

I set her down and step back. "Strip."

Her hands shake slightly as she pulls off the hoodie, the shorts. She stands before me in nothing but skin and vulnerability, this fierce little omega who commands eight Alphas like it's nothing.

"Beautiful," I tell her, meaning it. "Now lie down."

She obeys, and the sight of her spread out on the bed, waiting for my next command, nearly breaks my control. But she needs this to be slow. Needs to be taken apart piece by piece until there's nothing left but sensation.

I strip efficiently, watching her watch me. Her pupils dilate when I step out of my jeans, already hard and ready.

"Bo," she breathes.

"Shh. No talking unless I ask you a question."

Her mouth snaps shut, but her body speaks volumes. The way she shifts restlessly, thighs pressing together. The way her nipples tighten in anticipation.

I stretch out beside her, not touching yet. Just looking. "You're going to do exactly what I tell you. Understood?"

She nods.

"Words, Reese."

"Yes."

"Good girl."

The praise makes her shudder. Interesting.

I start with feather-light touches. Fingertips trailing down her arm, across her collarbone, around but not quite touching where she needs it. She tries to arch into my hand, but I pull back.