Page 39 of Daisy (Omega Chosen #3)

"Can I ask you something first?" She tilts her head, studying me with those dark eyes. "You and Gunner... are you like Cassian and August? Together, I mean?"

I blink, caught off guard by the question. "What? No. God, no." I can't help the laugh that escapes. "Gun's my best friend, my pack brother, but definitely not my type. He's way too quiet for me. And I'm way too loud for him."

"Oh." Relief flickers across her face, followed quickly by embarrassment. "I just thought... you live together, you're so close..."

"We've had each other's backs since we were seventeen," I explain. "Pack brothers. But romantic? Hell no. That would be like kissing my actual brother. If I had one. Which, gross."

She laughs, and the sound eases some of the tension between us. "I was wondering. I mean, after seeing August and Cassian together..."

"Yeah, they're the real deal. Bonded and everything." I grin. "But Gun and me? We're just two idiots who refuse to let the world beat us down. Completely platonic idiots."

"Good," she says, so quietly I almost miss it.

"Good?"

Instead of answering, she moves closer. Close enough that I can feel her body heat radiating against my bare skin. Close enough that her scent wraps around me like silk and makes my cock jerk so hard I'm surprised my jeans don't rip.

"Do you know why I'm wearing Gunner's hoodie?" she asks softly, her voice gone husky.

I shake my head, not trusting my voice. My heart pounds as she steps even closer, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from her skin.

"Because it smells like pack. Like safety.

" Her hands settle on my bare chest, and the contact sends liquid fire through my veins.

Her palms are warm, soft, and when her fingers spread wide over my pecs I have to bite back a groan.

"But underneath all that comfort, all I can think about is what you smell like. Leather and caramel and something that makes every omega instinct I have light up with want.”

My breathing stops. "Daisy..."

"You want to know the truth?" Her fingers trace over my collarbone, following the lines of ink there with gentle touches. "You make me feel reckless."

I blink, caught off guard. "Reckless?"

"The others make me feel safe, protected. But you?" She looks up at me with those dark eyes, and there's something wild flickering there. Something that calls to every primitive part of me. "You make me want to do crazy things. Make me want to be bold and stupid and completely myself."

My hands settle on her waist without conscious thought, and she doesn't pull away. If anything, she steps closer, pressing herself against me until there's no space left between us.

"But you are completely yourself,"I say, and I can't help the grin that spreads across my face. "You asked Gunner for your first kiss. You let August and Cassian worship you like a goddess. That's pretty damn bold, princess."

"That's different." Her cheeks flush pink, but she doesn't look away. "Those felt... safe. Natural. But with you, I feel like I might do something completely insane."

"Like what?"

"Like..." Her cheeks flush deeper, and she looks down for a moment before meeting my eyes again. "Like do things I've never even thought about before. Like touch you and not worry if I'm doing it wrong." She takes a shaky breath. "Like stop caring about being perfect all the time."

My cock jerks hard at her words, and I have to grip the tree behind her to keep from acting on every filthy thought racing through my mind.

"Princess," I growl, "you can't just say things like that."

"Why not?" That wicked glint is back in her eyes. "You're always telling me I should ask for what I want."

Smart-ass. When did she get so good at turning my own words against me?

"Because," I say roughly, "if you keep talking like that, I'm going to forget all my good intentions about taking this slow."

"Maybe I don't want you to take it slow." She goes up on her toes, bringing her mouth closer to mine. "Maybe I want you to show me what reckless feels like."

I let out a bark of laughter that's half amusement, half desperation. "Fuck, princess. When did you get so damn bold?"

"You taught me," she says simply. "You and the others. You taught me that wanting things doesn't make me selfish. That asking for what I need doesn't make me greedy."

The sincerity in her voice hits me right in the chest. "And what do you need right now?"

"You," she breathes. "I need you to kiss me like you mean it. Like I'm not made of glass."

"Princess," I warn, but my hands are already moving to cup her face.

"Please, Hawk." Her voice drops to a whisper. "Show me what it feels like to be reckless."

So I do.

The first touch of her lips against mine is soft, tentative.

But when I don't pull away, when I let her feel how much I want this, she deepens it with a hunger that nearly brings me to my knees.

Her tongue sweeps across my lower lip, and I open for her with a groan that comes from somewhere deep in my chest.

She tastes like everything I've been dreaming about. Sweet and warm and perfectly her. When she makes a small sound into my mouth—half gasp, half moan—my control finally snaps.

I spin us around, pressing her back against the nearest tree, my body caging her in. She gasps at the sudden movement, but it's not fear in her scent. It's pure arousal, thick and sharp and so fucking perfect it makes my vision blur.

"This what you want?" I growl against her throat, my voice gone rough with need.

I press my hips forward, letting her feel exactly how hard I am, how much I want her.

My cock throbs against her belly, and when she arches into the contact I nearly lose my mind.

"Want me to stop being careful with you? "

"Yes," she breathes, her head falling back against the bark, exposing the long line of her throat. Her pulse pounds visibly under her skin, and I want to mark her there, want to sink my teeth in and claim her properly. "God, yes."

I capture her mouth again, harder this time.

Less careful. She meets me kiss for kiss, her nails digging into my shoulders hard enough to leave marks, her body arching against mine like she can't get close enough.

The hoodie rides up as I explore her waist, her ribs, and when my thumb brushes just under her breast she makes a sound that goes straight to my cock.

"Hawk," she gasps when I break away to mouth at her throat, and my name on her lips sounds like a prayer. "Please."

"Please what, princess?" I nip at her pulse point, and she shudders against me.

"Touch me. I need—" The word breaks off in a moan as I slip my hand under the soft cotton of Gunner's hoodie to cup her breast. Her nipple is already hard, begging for attention, and when I roll it between my fingers she makes a sound that nearly has me coming in my jeans.

"So responsive," I murmur against her neck, breathing in her scent. It's changed again, gone richer and deeper, with an undertone that makes my alpha instincts sit up and roar to life. "So perfect."

My hand slides down, tracing over her ribs, her waist, until I reach the waistband of her leggings. I pause there, waiting for permission, and she nods frantically.

"Please," she breathes. "I need you to touch me. I need you so badly."

I slip my hand inside, under the elastic of her panties, and the first touch of her slick heat nearly brings me to my knees. She's absolutely drenched, her pussy lips swollen and slippery with arousal, and when I find her clit she cries out so loud I have to capture the sound with my mouth.

"Fuck, princess," I growl against her lips, circling that sensitive bundle of nerves with deliberate pressure. "You're soaking wet for me. Shit, I can feel how much you need this."

She whimpers, her hips bucking against my hand desperately, chasing more contact. "Hawk, please, I need more."

I give it to her, sliding one thick finger through her slick folds before pushing inside her tight channel. She's so small, so incredibly tight, her inner walls gripping my finger like a vice. The feeling makes my cock throb painfully against my jeans.

"God, you're tight," I groan, slowly working my finger in and out while my thumb circles her swollen clit. "So fucking perfect, princess."

"More," she gasps, rolling her hips against my hand. "I can take more, please."

I add a second finger, stretching her carefully, and she throws her head back with a broken moan.

Her slick coats my fingers, making obscene wet sounds as I work her open.

When I curve my fingers just right, finding that spot deep inside where my knot will lock us, it makes her legs shake, she nearly sobs with pleasure.

"Right there!" she cries out. "Oh god, Hawk, right there!"

"That's it," I murmur, working that spot with steady pressure while my thumb works her clit in tight circles. "Let me make you feel good, princess. God, look at you falling apart for me."

The possessive words make her clench around my fingers, and I can smell her heat spiking even higher. She's close, teetering on the edge, and I want to push her over.

Her scent blooms even stronger, and something shifts in it. Something that makes every primitive part of my brain light up like a Christmas tree. I pull back to look at her face, and my breath catches.

Her pupils are blown wide, her cheeks flushed. But it's more than arousal. There's something different about her scent. Deeper. More complex.

Like those suppressants are finally giving up the fight.

"Princess," I say slowly, even as I continue to work her with my fingers, "when did you last take your pills?"

"This morning," she says, but there's uncertainty in her voice. She gasps as I hit that spot again.

Fuck. The pills are losing effectiveness, and her natural chemistry is starting to break through. Which means...

"How do you feel?" I ask carefully, my thumb circling her clit in slow, deliberate strokes. "Overall, I mean. Any changes?"