Page 9 of Knot Their Safe Haven (The Omega Rebellion Movement #3)

Her pussy clenched around my fingers, rhythm faltering, and I knew she was close. I curled my fingers just right, pressed firmly against that spot while my thumb worked her clit, and she shattered.

The orgasm rolled through her in waves, her whole body shuddering as she came on my fingers. She moaned my name, clear as day, and I had to bury my face in her hair to keep from coming in my pants like a teenager.

I worked her through it, gentle touches extending the pleasure until she went boneless against me. Even in sleep, I could feel the difference—this release had been real, satisfying in a way her solo efforts couldn't achieve.

But my cock was so hard it hurt, pressed against her ass, demanding attention.

And she was so wet, ready, and perfect...

This was the line.

Fingers were one thing, but actually fucking her while she slept? That was something I hadn't had the guts to push towards. Yet tonight, of all nights, I was too fucking tempted to try.

I wanted it. Her. Had wanted to give in for fifteen years, through all the almosts, maybes, and not-quite-theres.

She shifted in her sleep, pressing back against me, and the movement nearly undid me. A soft moan escaped her lips— contentment mixed with lingering need —and my control snapped.

My hands shook as I freed my cock, the cool air making me hiss through clenched teeth. I was painfully hard, had been since I'd first seen her on those monitors.

Pre-cum leaked steadily from the tip, and I used it to ease the way as I positioned myself at her entrance.

"This is wrong," I whispered, even as I pressed forward. "So wrong, Velvet. But I can't...I need..."

She moaned as the head of my cock breached her, her body accepting me with an eagerness that destroyed my last reservations.

I pushed in slowly, inch by torturous inch, my entire body trembling with the effort of restraint. Her inner walls gripped me like a vice, hot and wet and perfect, and I had to bite down hard on my tongue to keep from groaning too loudly.

The silk sheets rustled beneath us as her body unconsciously adjusted to accommodate me, her back arching slightly, pressing her ass more firmly against my hips.

"That's it," I breathed against her neck, my voice barely audible. "Take me, love. Even in sleep, your body knows what it's craving for."

The guilt churned in my stomach, mixing with the intoxicating pleasure until I couldn't separate one from the other.

This was a violation of every ethical principle I'd sworn to uphold, every boundary I'd promised myself I'd never cross.

But God help me, I couldn't stop. Not when she felt like heaven wrapped around my cock, her quiet whimpers suggested pleasure rather than distress.

I began to move, careful and measured thrusts that had sweat beading on my forehead within moments.

Each slide in and out of her tight heat sent sparks shooting up my spine, and I had to focus on my breathing to maintain control. The last thing I wanted was to hurt her, even in this twisted moment of weakness.

Her pussy clenched around me rhythmically, and I recognized the telltale signs of her body building toward another climax.

Even unconscious, even drugged by those damned pills, she was responsive.

It made me wonder how many nights she'd spent like this, her body crying out for what we all refused to give her properly.

"Fifteen years," I whispered, pressing kisses along the column of her throat.

"Of watching you suffer, of knowing what you need and being too much of a coward to claim you properly.

Knox has his excuses, Adyani has hers, but what's mine?

That I'm afraid of breaking professional boundaries?

That I value my reputation over your happiness? "

My hand slid around to cup her breast through the silk, feeling the weight of it in my palm. Her nipple was hard against my touch, and when I rolled it gently between my fingers, she moaned my name again. The sound went straight to my cock, making it twitch inside her.

"Malcom," she breathed, and there was something different in her voice now. Not quite awake, but not fully asleep either. That dangerous twilight state where dreams and reality blurred.

I froze, my cock buried deep inside her, waiting to see if she would wake fully. Part of me wanted her to— wanted her to turn and see me, to either damn me for this violation or pull me deeper. But she simply sighed and pressed back against me, her body seeking more contact, more friction.

"Please," she mumbled, and I couldn't tell if she was dreaming or aware.

Unable to resist, I resumed my movements, slightly faster now, slightly deeper.

The wet sounds of our coupling filled the room, obscene and beautiful in equal measure.

I could feel her slick coating my shaft, dripping down to wet my balls with each thrust. She was so ready, so desperate for this connection, and it killed me that she had to find it like this—in the shadows of sleep, in stolen moments that she'd never acknowledge come morning.

My free hand traced down her stomach, finding its way between her legs to circle her clit.

The moment I made contact, her entire body shuddered, and I knew she was close.

I worked with her with the expertise of someone who'd studied her body for years, who knew exactly how much pressure she liked, exactly what rhythm would drive her over the edge.

"Cum for me, Velvet," I commanded softly, my medical training warring with my base desires. "Let go for your Alpha."

She came with a soft cry, her pussy clamping down on my cock so hard I saw stars.

I gritted my teeth, fighting my own release as her inner walls milked me, trying to draw out what nature demanded I give her.

My knot began to swell at the base of my cock, and I knew I had to pull out now or risk being locked inside her— something that would be impossible to explain away come morning.

With far too much effort, I withdrew, my cock slipping free with a wet sound that made us both whimper.

I immediately wrapped my hand around my shaft, working myself with quick, desperate strokes. The sight of her pussy, swollen and dripping with her arousal and my pre-come, was enough to push me over the edge.

I came with a muffled groan, my release painting white streaks across the sheets beside her.

My knot pulsed painfully in my grip as I massaged it, the lack of proper stimulation making it ache.

This was my punishment, I supposed—this hollow climax that satisfied nothing, that only emphasized what we were both missing.

As the fog of lust cleared, the full weight of what I'd done crashed over me.

I'd fucked her while she slept. I'd taken advantage of her trust, her vulnerability, her medicated state. I was no better than the Alphas we protected her from, perhaps worse because she trusted me.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, already reaching for the tissues on her nightstand. "God, Velvet, I'm so fucking sorry."

I cleaned her with gentle efficiency. She'd been so wet, so ready, that my intrusion had caused no physical damage.

The emotional and ethical damage was another matter entirely.

Moving carefully, I slipped out of bed and padded to her dresser. I knew where she kept her nightgowns—had helped her organize them once when she'd been recovering from a particularly brutal fever a few years back.

I selected a soft cotton one, nothing like the silk she preferred, but less likely to aggravate her sensitive skin.

Getting her changed required lifting her, and I marveled at how deeply the pills had pulled her under.

She was completely limp in my arms, her head lolling against my shoulder as I maneuvered her out of the soaked silk.

Even unconscious, she was beautiful— all soft curves and elegant lines, her body a work of art I had no right to appreciate.

I dressed her quickly, trying not to let my hands linger on her skin. Once she was decent, I carried her to the rocking chair in the corner—the one she'd bought years ago when she'd briefly entertained the idea of having another child.

She thought we didn't know about her and Knox, but it was something we decided to keep amongst ourselves, like any member of a pack that carried secrets.

The fact that it remained here, unused but not discarded, said everything about the dreams she wouldn't voice aloud...

The sheets were a disaster, soaked with sweat and slick, and the evidence of our unexpected coupling. I stripped them with practiced movements, bundling them into the hamper.

The fresh sheets I pulled from her linen closet smelled of lavender— her favorite —and I took extra care to make the bed properly, hospital corners and all.

When everything was clean and arranged, I lifted her from the chair and tucked her back into bed.

She curled immediately onto her side, pulling a pillow against her chest in a gesture so vulnerable it made my chest ache.

I smoothed her purple-streaked hair back from her face, noting the silver threads that caught the moonlight.

Nearly forty, and still the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen.

"I'm such a coward," I confessed to her sleeping form. "We all are. Knox with his fear of ruining what we have. Adyani with her need to be perfect before she'll claim you. And me... I hide behind professionalism and ethics while you suffer alone."

I pressed a kiss to her temple, breathing in her scent one last time. Even now, sated and sleeping, she smelled like black orchids and need.

"One day," I promised, though I knew I was lying to both of us. "One day, we'll be brave enough to give you what you deserve. A proper pack. A proper claim. The kind of love that doesn't hide in shadows."

But not tonight...

Tonight, I would slink away like the coward I was, leaving her to wake alone and wondering. She'd know I'd been here— she always does and simply doesn't acknowledge it —but we'd never speak of it.

We'd continue our careful dance of proximity without connection, desire without fulfillment.

I paused at her bedroom door, looking back at her sleeping form one last time. In the moonlight, she looked peaceful, but I knew better. I knew the storms that raged beneath that calm surface, the hunger that gnawed at her bones.

"Sleep well, my love," I whispered, then forced myself to leave before I did something even more unforgivable.

The walk back to my office felt like a march to the gallows.

Every step reminded me of what I'd done, what I'd taken, what I continued to deny us both. The monitors still showed her room, her still form centered in the frame. I should delete the footage, destroy the evidence of my transgression.

Instead, I saved it to my private files, another secret to add to the collection.

Another reminder of what we could have if any of us were brave enough to reach for it.

I poured myself three fingers of whiskey— the good stuff, the bottle Velvet had given me for my last birthday —and settled back into my chair. The burn of alcohol did nothing to ease the ache in my chest or the shame that curdled in my gut.

Somewhere across the city, Knox was probably lying awake, fighting the same urges I'd surrendered to. Somewhere across the ocean, Adyani was planning her return, her transformation, her grand gesture that would probably come too late.

And here I sat, the physician who'd sworn to do no harm, having just violated the woman I loved in the most intimate way possible.

"An Alpha Doctor who swore to make her proud..." I muttered, the title tasting like ash. "What a fucking joke."

But even as I sat there in my guilt and self-loathing, I couldn't stop myself from pulling up the footage again.

Watching her sleep, peaceful now in clean sheets and soft cotton.

Wouldn't stop myself from wanting, needing, and loving her with an intensity that bordered on obsession.

Cause this is what it was, when you thought about it. A sick obsession that I knew I'd never find a cure for because I was too far gone. Years deep into this same repetition.

This was our pattern, our curse.

We circled her like satellites, close enough to affect her gravity but never brave enough to crash into her atmosphere. And Velvet, stubborn, proud Velvet, would rather suffer alone than accept anything less than complete devotion.

The irony was that she had it— our complete devotion.

We were all destroyed by her, all desperate for her. But somehow, that wasn't enough. Somehow, we'd convinced ourselves that loving her meant keeping our distance, that protecting her meant letting her protect herself.

I finished my whiskey and poured another, settling in for a long night of self-recrimination and surveillance.

Tomorrow, we'd pretend this never happened.

We'd go back to our careful dance.

But tonight, in the darkness of my office, I could admit the truth:

We were all cowards, and our cowardice was killing the woman we claimed to love.