Page 52 of Omega's Formula

He shifts the angle and suddenly he’s hitting something inside me that makes my whole body light up. I scream into the pillow, hands clawing at the sheets.

“There,” I gasp. “Right there, don’t stop,please—”

He doesn’t stop. Drives into that spot over and over until I’m sobbing with how good it feels, until my thighs are shaking and my arms give out and I’m face-down on the mattress taking it because I couldn’t move if I wanted to.

“Going to come,” he grits out. “Nolan—”

“Yes. Do it. I need—I need to feel—”

He slams in deep and holds there, pulsing inside me, and the feeling of it sends me over the edge. I come so hard my visionwhites out, clenching around him, wave after wave of release crashing through me until I don’t know which way is up.

We collapse together, his weight pressing me into the mattress. His breath is hot and ragged against my neck. His heart pounds against my back. Neither of us moves.

“Again,” I whisper when I can form words.

He laughs, the sound exhausted and wondering. “Give me five minutes.”

“Three.”

“You’re going to kill me.”

“Probably.” I turn my head, catch his mouth in an awkward sideways kiss. “But what a way to go.”

I lose track of time after that. The heat swallows everything—hours, days, the difference between sleeping and waking. There’s only Erik’s hands on my body, Erik’s mouth, Erik moving inside me over and over until I don’t know where I end and he begins.

The second time, he takes me slow. So slow I think I might die from it.

He lays me out on my back, pushes my thighs apart, and just looks at me. I’m flushed and sweating, chest heaving, completely exposed. Under anyone else’s gaze I’d feel vulnerable. Under his, I feel powerful.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

“Less talking.” I reach for him, try to pull him down. “More—”

He catches my wrists, pins them above my head with one hand. “Patience.”

“I don’t have patience. I have heat hormones and a very short fuse.”

He laughs, low and dark, and then lowers his head between my thighs.

The first touch of his tongue makes me arch off the bed. He holds my hips down, keeps me pinned while he takes meapart with his mouth—long, slow licks alternating with focused attention exactly where I need it. I’m moaning his name, cursing, begging, and he just keeps going, relentless, until I’m right on the edge.

Then he stops.

“Erik!” The word comes out wrecked, furious. “What are you—”

“Patience,” he says again, and I can hear the smirk in his voice.

“I will end you. I will literally—”

He slides two fingers inside me and crooks them against that spot, and I lose the ability to form threats. To form words. To form anything except desperate, keening sounds as he works me with his fingers, still not letting me come, building me up and backing off until I’m nearly crying with frustration.

“Please,” I beg. I’ve never begged for anything in my life but I’m begging now. “Please, Erik, I can’t—I need—”

“What do you need?”

“You. Inside me. Please.”

He pulls his fingers out—I whimper at the loss—and then he’s there, sliding home in one long, slow thrust. I wrap my legs around his waist and hold on.