Page 25 of Omega’s Fever (Prime Match #2)

We take too long to pick a movie: both of us still unsure of the other’s preferences and trying to find something that we both like.

In the end, we pick an action blockbuster, all explosions and improbable physics.

I’m not really watching. Too aware of every point where our bodies touch, every breath that lifts his chest.

“It was thirty minutes,” he murmurs against my hair.

“For what?”

“Pizza.”

Right. Pizza. Food. Normal couple things.

The doorbell rings ten minutes later, startling us both. Kellen’s on his feet before I can blink, every line of his body alert.

“It’s early,” I say unnecessarily.

“Stay here.” He moves toward the door with that lethal grace, and I follow because of course I do. Can’t help myself when it comes to him.

He checks the peephole, then relaxes fractionally. But when he opens the door, it’s not the pizza delivery.

It’s Uncle Kenneth.

My stomach drops as my uncle pushes his way into the apartment, face flushed with indignation. He looks older than I remember, grayer. Smaller, somehow, especially with Kellen looming behind him. He looks at Kellen like something he needs to wipe off his shoe.

“Milo.” His voice cracks like a whip. “We need to talk. Alone.”

“No.” The word comes out steadier than I feel. “Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of Kellen.”

Kenneth’s face darkens. “This is about family—”

“Kellen is family.”

The words hang in the air between us. Kenneth’s gaze darts to Kellen, who hasn’t moved from his position by the door.

“Milo,” Kenneth says and on the surface, he’s calm but there’s something new in his voice. Fear. He’s actually afraid of Kellen.

I glance over at my mate. I’ve got used to him now: his size, the tattoos, the broken nose and the scars. Yeah, he does look scary. If you didn’t know he was really a great big teddy bear.

“Milo,” Kenneth says again. “We need to talk about this. You know I have your best interests at heart and I am worried about you. You are ignoring my advice and that’s not going to go well for you.”

“Get out.”

The words come from Kellen, quiet but absolute. Kenneth actually takes a step back.

“You can’t just—”

“I can.” Kellen moves then, slow and deliberate, until he’s between me and Kenneth. “You’re in my home, disrespecting my mate. Leave. Now.”

My home. My mate. The words send heat spiraling through me, settling low and urgent. I press a hand to my stomach again, where our child grows. Where everything has changed.

Kenneth looks at me over Kellen’s shoulder. There’s fury in his eyes. “Milo, if you stay with this man, you’re going to wind up dead. You need to walk away.”

“I want to be happy,” I interrupt. “It’s a prime match, uncle. I don’t want to give him up and I’m not going to”

For a moment, rage crosses his face. Then the mask slams back into place, harder than before. “Fine. It is on your head. We are done. I can’t look out for you if you’re going to be so stupid.”

Look out for me? I’m an adult. I’ve had enough of him treating me like a child.

“Get out.”

He shakes his head, but leaves without another word, the door closing with a definitive click. Kellen locks it, checks it twice, then turns to face me.

“You okay?”

I consider the question. My uncle just disowned me, essentially. My career is hanging by a thread. I’m pregnant with a baby that shouldn’t be possible. And I’m falling in love with a man who might spend the rest of his life in prison.

“Yeah,” I say, and mean it. “I’m okay.”

He studies my face, then nods. I step closer, close enough to feel his heat. To breathe him in. “Kellen?”

“Yeah?”

“Claim me.”

The words hang between us, heavy with meaning. His pupils dilate, and I can see the moment he processes what I’m asking. What I’m offering.

“Milo—”

“I’m sure.” I reach up, frame his face with my hands. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Claim me. Make me yours.”

His control snaps.

One moment I’m standing there, the next I’m pressed against the wall, his mouth hot and desperate on mine. I moan into the kiss, hands fisting in his shirt, trying to get closer. Always closer.

“Bedroom,” he growls against my lips.

“No.” I nip at his jaw, drunk on the taste of him. “Here. Now.”

He pulls back enough to meet my eyes, and what I see there makes my knees weak. Desire, yes, but also something deeper. Something that matches the feeling building in my chest.

“You deserve better than—”

I silence him with another kiss. “I deserve you. Just you.”

He lifts me then, easy as breathing, and I wrap my legs around his waist. The wall is cold against my back, but he’s furnace-hot against my front, and I’m burning, burning.

When he sets me down on the couch, there’s a reverence in his touch that undoes me. He undresses me slowly, carefully, like I’m something precious. Something worth savoring.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to every inch of revealed skin. “Can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Yours,” I agree, arching into his touch. “Always yours.”

He takes his time, working me open with fingers and tongue until I’m mindless with need. Only then does he press inside, slow and careful, watching my face for any sign of discomfort.

“Perfect,” he breathes, when he’s fully seated. “Fuck, Milo. You’re perfect.”

I can’t form words, too overwhelmed by the feeling of him inside me, around me. This is different from before. Deeper. More.

When he moves, it’s with devastating control. Each thrust measured, each angle calculated to drive me higher. I cling to him, nails digging into his shoulders, chanting his name like a prayer.

“Gonna claim you now,” he growls, rhythm starting to falter. “Everyone needs to know you’re mine.”

“Yes.” I bare my throat, offering. Begging. “Please, Kellen. Please.”

His teeth find my neck just as pleasure crests, white-hot and endless. I feel the moment his teeth break skin, feel the bond snap into place like coming home. Mine, mine, mine.

I tuck my mouth into the nape of his neck, scenting the deep Kellen scent that has been driving me crazy since the day that we met. I dart my tongue out, licking the skin then bite down soft into the scent glands, making him mine in return.

That’s when he follows me over, my name a broken sound against my throat. We stay tangled together afterward, both breathing hard. I can feel the claim pulsing between us, new and precious. I can feel him in ways I never imagined possible.

“No going back now,” he says quietly.

I touch the mark on my neck, bloody and tender. Still perfect. “I don’t want to go back.”

He kisses me, soft and sure. “Me neither.”

The pizza arrives eventually, late, stone cold and somewhat worse for wear. We eat it anyway, curled together on the couch, and it’s the best meal I’ve ever had.