Page 31 of Altius (The Scent of Victory #2)

As Morgan’s tongue hunted for every hint of my scent, her hips flexed, seeking more stimulation. I answered her call, slipping my hand between her legs. She was wetter than I’d expected, but nowhere near a normal amount of slick.

And I was her scent match.

Cradling the back of her head, I angled Morgan’s face to get a better look at her. The need in her gaze couldn’t mask her intelligence. Logic was still in control.

“What do you want?” I asked, fingers grazing the entrance of her pussy.

Her answer was frustratingly vague, despite how breathy and enticing it sounded whispered in my ear. “More.”

“Do you want me ?” I asked, forcing out a smile—because I needed to know. Either it was time to expel the thorn of rejection that had been digging into my heart for a decade, or let it finish me off.

“No, I need you.” She kissed the side of my mouth. “It’s eating at me. The absence. All this waiting.”

Twining her arms around my neck, Morgan pressed our foreheads together.

“Been waiting for so long. So long. And I can’t… I don’t want to… Don’t make me wait, Wyatt. I can’t take it anymore.”

I hesitated. Knowing her answer might leave a permanent scar. “Even without being able to smell my pheromones?”

“Can’t you tell? I’m drunk on them—on you,” she said, rubbing herself against me, scratching at my scalp. “Had to go down on you first so I could stay aroused. Now that I’ve got your pheromones in my system, I can focus on you.”

Morgan looked into my eyes. The amber ring framing her pupils was pure liquid desire.

“On us.”

Sinking one of my fingers into the decadent heat of her pussy, I made a few exploratory strokes. Marveling as she lifted her hips, knees planted on the mattress, pressing our chests together as she rode my hand between lingering kisses.

Then I added a second finger. Sinking deeper, I found her G-spot. Curling my fingertips against it, she shuddered and mewled, almost losing her rhythm, but Morgan pushed through. Newly determined to take her pleasure from me.

I complied. Willingly, without any thought of resistance. Comfortable in my role. Make her come as many times as possible, by any means necessary.

By the time she climaxed, bearing down on three of my fingers, I was hard again. And she was ready. Well, maybe.

I grabbed a bottle of lube from the supply basket tucked between the pillows just to be sure. She took it before I even managed to get the cap off.

“Only I can touch you,” she half-purred, slathering my cock with lube. “Just me— me .”

Her pheromones intensified, leaving me in a daze, lying flat on the bed, staring at the gorgeous creature determined to possess me.

“I know, baby.”

Her eyes flashed. “I mean it. If I ever catch you—”

“Never.” Settling my hands on her hips, I guided Morgan forward, pressing my erection between her folds, rocking her against my length. “Don’t doubt me. Feel me.”

Her breath hitched. Gripping my wrist, brows knit tight, she grappled with the shadows of our past. But there was no room for them here, between us. Not now. After depriving ourselves for so long.

Poised at her entrance—at her mercy—I pleaded, “Take me.”

And she did.

Morgan managed the first few inches before pausing, fingers scratching at the back of my hand, needing time to adjust to my girth. “Holy fuck… Oh, fuck… Wyatt—Wyatt!”

She laced one set of our fingers together and pushed my arm back, pinning it above my head as she took more of me inside. Turning me into her willing prisoner.

That didn’t mean I couldn’t plant my feet on the mattress and help things along.

Morgan hissed at me, but I didn’t stop. Answering her thrust for thrust, I gradually worked my straining cock deep inside her tight, silken heat.

Pressing a hand against her abdomen, feeling my length move inside her, a possessive purr sounded low in my throat. A true purr. Something I’d never done before. Ever.

“This is where I belong,” I said, hand splayed across her stomach. “Where I should have been every fucking day since I scented you in Arizona.”

She arched over me, eyes shimmering with what I feared were unspent tears, working us into a near frenzy.

“I regret every day I didn’t call, baby. Every text I didn’t send. I should have thrown myself at your feet and begged for forgiveness—”

“Stop,” she muttered, fingernails biting into my skin. “Don’t talk about that now.”

“Then let me show you.” Capturing her mouth, my kisses were a litany of silent apologies.

Tipping us onto our sides, I hooked her knee over my elbow, so that my hips could reach a little deeper, to make her feel my sincerity—and my inflated knot—to understand the depth of my love.

That I worshipped her.

Morgan gasped into my mouth. Pressing her breasts more firmly against my chest, eyes wide, she came in long, overwhelming waves of pleasure.

Undeterred, I continued my gentle onslaught until she climaxed again, but it wasn’t enough. I angled her hips higher so that my knot could grind against her clit.

“Give it to me,” she said, suspended leg swinging loose, only to wrap around my waist, urging me to stop holding back. “Mine, Wyatt—all of you— mine .”

Who was I to refuse?

Coating my hand with lube, I slipped between our bodies, slicking up my knot before pressing forward.

Her body resisted. The stretch was too much. She could take my cock, but my knot was too big.

We stared at one another, at a loss for how to proceed, until a bead of sweat dripped from my forehead onto her face. Her tongue darted out to capture it.

The first quarter-inch eased inside.

Morgan pulled me closer, sucking on the junction between my neck and shoulder, where my pheromones were densest, all but forcing herself to accept my knot.

Locked together, throttled with pleasure, our releases were endless. Every time my knot relaxed, she moved or whispered praise into my ear, setting me off again.

The scratch of her nails along my back. Her swollen lips begging for more kisses. The way our scents called to each other, weaving an intimate cocoon around us. Safe in a loop of never-ending ecstasy.

I gave her everything I had.

An unknown amount of time later, I regained consciousness, head resting on Morgan’s breast while she trailed her fingers across the Olympic rings tattooed on my ribs.

Had I done all right? Or had I pushed her too far, said too much?

I glanced up, feeling uncertain and inexperienced. But I shouldn’t have. Not with Morgan’s smile waiting for me.

“Hi,” she murmured, cupping my cheek. “I missed you.”

As she kissed the top of my head and sighed in contentment, a half-purr slipped out. The sound prompted an answering thrum in the depths of my chest.

Pressing a kiss to her palm, I murmured a promise—one I intended to keep, even if she wouldn’t remember it after her heat.

“I know, baby. But I’m here now. I’m here to stay.”