Page 31 of Bound By Song (Evie Quad Omegaverse #1)

He palms me through my jumper, his thumb brushing lightly over the peak until it’s tight and aching. I gasp, my fingers digging into his arms now, trembling all over. My hips shift on their own, searching for pressure, something to ease the ache pooling low in my belly.

“Please—” I whisper, but I don’t know if I’m begging him to stop or to never stop.

He doesn’t speak. He kisses me again – harder this time – and that wicked thumb brushes over my nipple once more, making me jolt, whimper, need .

My perfume explodes. Apricot osmanthus and fresh rain, honeysuckle and blossom – all of it pours into the room like a tidal wave, thick and unmistakably omega.

My cheeks burn with the shame of it, but my omega?

She’s practically writhing with pride. Finally , she seems to purr. Finally, someone touched us right.

When he finally pulls back, his chest is heaving, lips wet from the kiss, pupils blown wide.

“You feel that?” he pants. “That’s the bond snapping into place. That’s what happens when fate stops being patient.”

“I—I’ve never—” I choke out.

His expression softens just enough. “I know, baby. I know. That was your first kiss, wasn’t it?”

I nod once, still trying to catch my breath.

“And the first time someone touched you like that?”

Another nod. My skin burns where he touched me, where he still could touch me if I let him.

Xar growls again, softer this time, reverent. “Then I’m honoured it was me.”

I close my eyes again, but this time, I don’t push him away.

I can’t. I’ve been suffocating for so long, and for the first time in years, I feel like I can breathe. And it’s all because of him.

My alpha.

I pull him back to me, back to my lips, and kiss him like I’ve been starved for it.

Like he’s the only thing that can silence the ache clawing through me.

He groans, deep and approving, like I’m killing him.

And maybe I am. The sound fills my omega with confidence and satisfaction. She’s feeling bold, powerful, seen.

His thigh slips between mine, and I grind down on it before I can stop myself, chasing the pressure with a helpless little noise I don’t recognise.

“Evie,” he murmurs against my lips, hoarse and reverent, “you’re driving me fucking insane.”

And I love it. I love how undone he sounds, how much he wants me.

My omega is glowing, purring , preening under his attention.

More , she whispers. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.

He ducks his head, mouth grazing the edge of my jaw, the line of my throat, and when his tongue flicks the base of my neck I gasp , hips bucking instinctively. I feel the sharp scrape of his teeth – not biting, not yet – but close .

My body is seconds away from begging.

His hands slide down, gripping my waist, then lower. He lifts me effortlessly, backing me into the wall with a thud that knocks the breath out of me – but I don’t care. I need this. I need him.

My legs wrap around his hips on instinct. There’s no conscious thought. No filter. Just heat. Craving. Pure animal want.

His mouth breaks from mine only long enough to drag kisses down my jaw, my throat, his tongue tracing the thrum of my pulse. My fingers are in his hair, tugging, guiding. I can’t get close enough.

“You smell like heaven,” he rasps against my skin. “Like apricots and rain and sunshine and fuck , Eviana – your scent’s going to ruin me.”

My head falls back, eyes fluttering shut as his teeth graze just beneath my jaw, and I let out a noise I’ve never made before. Wrecked . Ruined.

One hand moves up, slipping under my clothes, his palm cupping my bare breast, and when his thumb flicks over my nipple, my hips jolt against him with a soft, broken cry.

“You like that?” he murmurs, voice husky and reverent. “So fucking responsive, little one. So good for me.”

I nod helplessly, throat too tight to speak.

Xar’s hum of approval deepens, vibrating through me.

My breath comes in shallow gasps, my body writhing against him, and I can feel everything .

I can feel his strength, his power, his arousal pressing into my belly.

The thick press of him between my legs, the rumble of his chest under my palm, the delicious stretch of pleasure curling through my limbs.

And it should terrify me. It should . But instead, it makes me feel alive. Wanted. Claimed.

“Please, alpha?—”

I feel the change in him instantly – his pupils blow wide, his grip tightens, a deep sound escaping his throat that’s nothing but alpha.

His lips crash into mine again, harder this time, like he’s trying to devour me whole.

And I let him .

I lose myself in it. In him. My omega practically purrs in delight, basking in the attention, the touch, the claiming.

He rocks his hips into me, and I swear I see stars. Pressure builds in my core, slick gathering between my thighs, my whole body begging for more. Just a little more. Please .

His hands sweep down my back, over the curve of my waist, and then lower – finding the edge of my skirt and gathering it in his fists. I gasp as the fabric bunches around my hips, baring my thighs to the cold air and the heat of his palms.

“You’re trembling,” he murmurs, dragging his lips along my jaw, down my throat.

I am . But not from fear.

His hand finds the back of my thigh, then moves forward – slow, firm – trailing higher, until his fingers graze the heat between my legs burning through the thin scrap of cotton I’m wearing.

He stops. Still. Breath caught.

“You’re soaked,” he groans, pressing his forehead to mine, voice ragged. “Fuck, Evie…you’re dripping. Is this all for me?”

I whimper and nod, hips rocking into his hand on instinct. I can’t stop it. I don’t want to.

He slips his fingers under the material and between my lips, unhurried and reverent.

His touch is warm and assured and perfect .

He strokes through my slick, one finger circling, teasing, coaxing.

My limbs turn to jelly. His other arm wraps around the back of my thighs, anchoring me as his thumb finds that perfect spot, rubbing it just right, slow and steady.

I cry out, biting his shoulder, clinging to him like I’ll die if he stops. My scent floods the air – thick, sweet, needy . It wraps around us like a blanket, like a spell.

“That’s it,” he breathes, kissing me again, slower this time, deeper. “Let go for me, omega. Let me feel you fall apart. Come for me.”

It’s not a command.

It’s a gift.

I break.

Pleasure hits like a wave, sharp and all-consuming. I moan – loud and unfiltered – as my body clenches and pulses around nothing, desperate to be filled, claimed, knotted . My scent and my slick pour out in a fresh rush, thick and heady.

My legs shake. I might have collapsed if he weren’t holding me.

I come hard , thighs trembling, stomach tightening in rhythmic waves as I ride it out with whimpers and panting breaths and the knowledge that I’ve never felt anything like this in my life.

When it’s over, when he finally pulls back, I sag against the wall, completely undone, chest heaving, slick coating my thighs. I’m gasping for air, my lips tingling and my heart pounding so hard I’m sure he can hear it.

I don’t even realise I’m crying until he pulls back, cupping my cheek with his clean hand, brushing a tear away with his thumb.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he whispers, brushing his lips against my cheek, then my temple. “You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

But then – reality crashes down on me. It hits . Hard.

Like ice water down my spine.

What am I doing?

Grams’ voice slices through the haze, cruel and cold and unforgiving: Alphas are bad. All alphas are evil. They want to do bad things to omegas.

“No—” I whisper, but it’s not a command. It’s a plea. A panic.

Grams’ voice echoes in my mind again, but this time my omega purrs loud enough to drown her out. She doesn’t see Xar’s alpha as dangerous at all. She’s practically rolled over and presented her belly to him in submission – begging for tummy rubs and pets.

“Evie?” Xar’s voice is instantly softer, his touch loosening. “Are you okay?”

I blink up at him, breathless and shaking. My body is still singing, throbbing, wanting – but my mind is spinning out of control. Too much. Too fast.

“I—I need to stop,” I whisper.

I’m overwhelmed. Shamed. By what I’ve done. What I’ve let him do. What else I wanted him to do.

He pulls back immediately, arms loosening but still cradling me carefully. “Okay. Of course. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

But I can’t breathe. I’m drenched in scent, in need, in the overwhelming fear that I’ve lost control.

My cheeks burn with shame, with confusion, with a panic that’s rising like a tide.

Panic seizes my lungs.

Xar’s gaze locks onto mine, his expression dark and resolute. “You’re mine, Eviana. Ours. You always have been. You just didn’t know it yet. And now that I’ve scented you…well, it’s irrefutable, love. You’re our omega.”

My mind reels at his words, but my omega is already purring in agreement, her satisfaction vibrating through me like a siren’s song.

I jerk back, panting, blinking up at him with wide, startled eyes. He’s still holding me, still breathing like I’ve wrecked him, and I have . The look in his eyes – hazed with lust, confusion, and something achingly tender – almost pulls me back in.

But I can’t.

I grab the clothes I dropped when I came up here and shove them hard against his chest.

“I—I have to go.”

“Eviana, wait?—”

But I’m already gone, bolting for the exit like I’m on fire. Because I am . I’m still pulsing between my thighs, still wet with release, still echoing with his growl in my bones.

It’s all so alien to me. Terrifying. I don’t know how to survive wanting like that. I don’t know how I’m supposed to look him in the eye now.

I stumble down the attic stairs like my body doesn’t belong to me anymore, every nerve still singing, every inch of me burning with where he touched me – where I let him.

And I don’t know if I’m running because I regret it…

Or because I don’t trust myself not to turn around and beg him to keep going .