Page 51 of Omega's Formula

Another wave crashes through me and I curl into the mattress, biting down on a moan. My thighs are slick. My whole body is trembling. The emptiness inside me has become a physical ache, a hollow demanding thing that won’t be ignored.

I need him. Ineedhim.

I’m off the bed before I consciously decide to move. My legs are shaky, barely holding me up. I make it to the door, wrench it open, and there he is—sitting up on the couch, shirtless, looking as wrecked as I feel.

Our eyes meet.

“Nolan.” His voice is rough, strained. “What are you—”

“I changed my mind.”

He goes still. I watch his nostrils flare, watch his pupils blow wide as my scent hits him full force.

“You said—”

“I know what I said.” I’m gripping the doorframe, trying to stay upright, trying to form words through the fog of need. “I was wrong. I can’t—Erik, Ican’t—”

“You need to be sure.” He’s on his feet now, but he hasn’t moved toward me. Holding himself back. Checking. “Heat affects judgment. If you don’t really want—”

“I want.” I let go of the doorframe, take a shaky step toward him. “I’ve wanted since the Bureau meeting. Since you walked into that room and I couldn’t breathe. This isn’t just heat. This is—” Another wave hits and I gasp, doubling over. “Please. Please, Erik. I need you.”

He crosses the room in three strides.

His hands are on my face, tilting it up, and then his mouth is on mine and I’m drowning in him. The kiss is desperate, messy, all teeth and tongue and the ragged sounds we’re both making. I grab fistfuls of his hair and hold on.

“Bedroom,” he growls against my lips.

“Yes. Now.Please.”

He lifts me like I weigh nothing—hands under my thighs, my legs wrapping around his waist—and carries me through the door. I’m kissing his neck, his jaw, anywhere I can reach, drunk on the taste of his skin. He smells incredible, all alpha musk and want, and I want to drown in it.

He lowers me onto the bed, follows me down, and then we’re tangled together, hands everywhere, fighting with clothes. My shirt tears—I don’t care. His sweatpants get shoved down, kicked away. And then it’s just skin on skin, heat on heat, and I’m arching up into him like I’ll die if we stop touching.

“Nolan.” His mouth is on my throat, my collarbone, trailing fire. “Tell me what you need.”

“You. Inside me. Now.”

He groans, the sound vibrating against my chest. His hand slides down my stomach, between my thighs, and when his fingers find where I’m wet and ready, we both gasp.

“So slick,” he breathes. “So ready for me.”

“I’ve been ready for hours.” I roll my hips up, chasing his touch. “Stop teasing andtake me.”

His control snaps.

He flips me onto my stomach in one smooth motion, hands gripping my hips, dragging me up onto my knees. I barely have time to brace myself before he’s there, pressing against my entrance, and then he’s pushing inside and I’m crying out into the pillow because it’s so much, so full, so exactly what I’ve been desperate for.

“Okay?” His voice is strained, barely human. He’s holding himself still, buried deep, waiting for me to adjust.

“Move,” I manage. “For God’s sake,move.”

He moves.

The first thrust punches the air out of my lungs. The second makes me see stars. By the third I’m beyond words, beyond thought, nothing but sensation and the overwhelming rightness of having him inside me. He sets a brutal pace—deep, hard, relentless—and I take everything he gives me and beg for more.

“That’s it,” he growls, one hand fisting in my hair, the other bruising my hip. “Take it. Take all of it.”

I can’t respond. Can only moan and writhe and push back against him, meeting every thrust. The heat is singing through my veins, satisfied at last, and underneath it is something else—something that feels terrifyingly like joy.