Page 268 of Immune

She blinks at me, then laughs.

“There,” I say softly. “That’s better.”

Then she sinks down on me, slow and fierce, her mouth falling open with the sensation of me filling her.

Mine probably falls open, too, but I’ve honestly lost track of my face as a whole concept at this point. She takes me inch by inch, hot and wet and tight enough to make my vision blur. Her hands brace on my chest and her eyes stay locked on mine like she’s daring herself not to look away.

When I’m finally seated inside her, she stops. The room tightens around us, music pulses, and her scent wraps around my throat. I grip the sheets instead of her hips, and she notices. Of course she does.

“You can touch me.”

“I know.”

“Ewan.”

“I know,” I repeat, my voice completely wrecked. “But I’m doing my best not to flip you over and lose my fucking mind right now.”

Her smile is slow and dangerous. “Maybe I like you this desperate.”

Then she moves.

Fucking hell.

She sets the pace herself, rough at first, then slower when she finds a rhythm that makes her tighten around me. I keep one hand on her thigh and the other on her waist, simply holding on while she ruins me for any other woman.

Dakota rides me to the beat of the music, and there’s nothing silent about it. It’s messy, hot, and alive. Her hair sticks to her neck, my hands shake, and she laughs once when the bed frame knocks the wall. Then she clamps her hand over her own mouth like she’s done something wrong.

I catch her wrist. “Oh, no. You’re not keeping that from me.”

Her eyes burn, and I sit up, bringing us chest to chest. The angle changes and she gasps, arms locking around my shoulders. “There. There, don’t stop.”

I don’t. I hold her as she moves, my mouth at her jaw, her throat, but not biting yet. My knot swells more, pressing against her every time she takes me. She feels it too, her whole body clenching.

Her rhythm stutters, but not from fear this time.

Awareness.

Memory.

Want.

Her eyes lift to mine and I’m breathless when I ask, “Knot?”

“Yeah.”

Simple. Certain. Not a trembling negotiation, and no fear scraping teeth over the moment. She knows this now, knows the stretch, the catch. She knows the way an Alpha’s body locks with hers and forces the world to narrow down to breath, skin, scent, and staying.

Xeon gave her that without taking more than she offered, and now she knows what choice feels like here. So I don’t make it bigger than it needs to be.

I touch her hip. “Tell me if you need me still.”

She nods, then she moves again. I slip my hand between us, fingers finding her clit again, slick and swollen. Her rhythm breaks hard and she grinds down against me, chasing it now. Not hiding from it. Her Omega lock starts as a flutter, then a deep, greedy pull around me that drags a sound from my chest I don’t even recognize.

Dakota’s nails dig into my shoulders, and she pants, “Ewan.”

“I’ve got you.”

“I’m going to…”