Page 19 of In Deep

“Partly,” he says once he’s swallowed. “That is part of the appeal. But there’s a lot more to my attraction to you, Omega.”

I manage a stiff nod. “And what about your pack? I’m not interested in being part of a pack and can you really date me in that case?”

“It’s early days.” His eyes sparkle with amusement. “I’m not asking you to marry me. Let’s just see where this goes, huh?”

“I can do that.” In fact, it sounds perfect to me. Nothing serious. Just two people enjoying each other’s company.

One lone piece of cheesecake remains on my plate. I scoop it up and now the plate is empty. The meal is over.

I’m not sure what comes next. But my body is needy to find out.

I feel a little light-headed from the wine and his scent and the nerves cascading through my blood. The next few minutes seem to pass in a blur. The dishes are cleared away. I try to pay my half and Zane refuses. We walk through the courtyard. And then we’re out on the dark, empty street.

I stare at him, an arm’s length away. He stares back at me.

I think I’m floating.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he tells me, taking a step towards me. I take a step away.

I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what I want.

Except I do.

I want him.

Every fibre of my body screams with need for him.

He keeps coming, and I force myself to halt, to let myself go, to be overwhelmed, engulfed, smothered by him.

And in the next moment, his hand grips my waist, and the other slides into my hair, and he’s bending down, his breath rustling against my face before his warm lips meet mine.

My heart pounds in my chest.

My gland sears in my neck.

My body aches to be touched.

His mouth slides against mine and I lose myself completely.

Chapter 7

He keeps his word. We take things slow. Only a kiss that first night.

But it’s enough to leave me burning in my room alone that night. Did I make the right decision? Should I have invited him in, let him have me, extinguished any flames before they took hold?

Instead, I’m alone and frustrated. I don’t feel this way often. I’m too busy with my studies and my work, and I’m pretty efficient at smothering those omega longings. The longing to be kissed, to be held, to be touched, to be ravished.

I think of his kiss now, tracing my slightly swollen lips with the tip of my finger, reliving the feel of his mouth against mine, of his strong arms encasing me, of his cinnamon scent and the thud of his heart.

I remember how his knuckles skimmed down the outside of my arm, and I mimic the action with my own hand, closing my eyes and remembering everything.

A pulse beats between my legs. What would it have felt like if his hand had strayed lower, to my thigh, to the waistband of my knickers, to where I’m wet and throbbing now?

I touch myself there, believing they are his fingers parting my folds and finding my clit, caressing it lightly and circling it with care. My skin flushes and I sigh.

I’ve never fantasised about a real alpha before. The men in my head have always been fictional. But now I make myself come with Zane in my head; his deep green eyes, his warm breath, and his gravelly voice in my ear. “Sweetheart,” he groans as I buck against my own fingers, plunging them inside myself, wondering what it would feel like to take him.

When the aftershocks fade and I lie sweaty on my tiny bed, I stare up at the ceiling, at the crack running from one corner to the next.