Page 68 of Heat Lightning
MAX
Two heartbeats of lust-soaked fear passed before my back hit the wall, held down by the overwhelming heat of his body.
“Did he touch you?”
Thunder struck, closer this time. I tried to squirm away, but it only made him press against me harder.
“What the hell—”
“The heat teacher,” the Masked Man snarled, blue eyes blazing in the gloom. “Did he touch you? Did he put his hands on you?”
Oh. Oh.
Gwen, you’re a fucking genius. She was getting a gift basket. A giant gift basket.
With a confidence I hadn’t felt earlier, I shrugged, even though the omega in me liquefied beneath his hands on my waist. “He has a name, you know. Owen.”
He tracked the way my mouth moved around the other alpha's name like a leopard poised to pounce on a gazelle. “Is that so?” he murmured, deadly and low. His gaze never left my mouth.
I shivered. Fucking hell. If I’d thought there was something wild about him before, it was nothing compared to the way he looked at me now. Feral and crazed and desperate and hungry.
Sweat beaded along the edges of the mask, and his eyes were bloodshot. Had he not slept in the last three days?
His hands drifted up either side of my ribcage, pulling my shirt with them. The cool leather of his gloves ghosted against my skin, giving me goosebumps. He leaned down until his masked nose pressed against my neck, right where my heat pheromones concentrated.
“I’ll ask one more time.” He inhaled deeply. “Did Owen touch you?”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the name was a slur, judging by the way he spat it.
And then I remembered the omegas, and the suppressants. I remembered the way I’d felt for the last three days, waiting for him to text, call, or hell, even show up in the middle of the night—anything would’ve been better than the silence.
My gaze flicked up to meet his. “Yes. He did.”
It wasn’t technically a lie.
The wind howled as the storm picked up outside, whipping tree branches against the house and lashing sheets of rain on the windowpanes.
His eyes flashed with the lightning.
He leaned in once more, and my eyelids fluttered shut when he nudged my chin up with his nose, baring my neck. His hot breath lingered at my pulse point, teeth pricking through the mask. Then he dragged the tip of his nose down to where my neck and shoulder met, ghosting those canines over my scent gland.
Right where he’d bite me, if we accepted the bond.
He groaned, and buried his whole face in the crook of my neck. Every muscle in his body tensed, flexing against me, almost like he was trying to meld us together as one. His hard cock strained against my stomach, already seeking entrance.
Let him in, my omega cooed. Let our alpha feast. Open up, and he’ll give us everything we’ve ever wanted.
In answer, the Masked Man growled and dragged his thumbs over my stomach, below my belly button, right where my womb waited, empty and aching to be swollen with his cum.
Easy, sweet omega, his alpha seemed to say, dark and dangerous and so, so right. Just relax, and your alpha will make it so good for you. I’ll make you mine forever and ever.
I gasped and tipped my head back further, completely submitting to him. It was so primal and base; I would’ve died of embarrassment if it didn’t feel so fucking good to give in to him.
My cock twitched, filling with blood. That long-lost and yet deeply familiar ache inside me bloomed, yearning for what only my alpha could give.
“Where?” he murmured, mouth moving against my neck. “Where did you let him touch you?”
I gulped and grabbed his shoulders. There was something I was going to say—a reason I had for seeing the other alpha, but I couldn’t remember it with his teeth at my throat, even if there was a mask between us.
