Page 56 of Stream Heat (Omega Stream #1)

The description resonated so perfectly that it took my breath away. That was exactly what Jace had always provided, silent understanding when words failed, space to process without judgment, a calm center when everything else became too much.

"I need that," I admitted, the vulnerability easier with him than it would have been with the others. "Especially now, with everything so... intense."

"I know." Two simple words that somehow contained multitudes.

I reached for his hand, the contact sending a subtle current through the pack bonds that connected us. "Show me," I whispered. "Show me what our connection would be."

His gaze pinned me in place, dark and steady. “You’re sure? After everything today?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Because of today,” I breathed. “I need you. I need this.”

His nostrils flared, drawing in the truth of me. The faint crease in his brow smoothed as my scent reached him, open, needy, aching. Something in his expression shifted, a decision settling deep.

He didn’t kiss me right away. Instead, he lowered his head to my throat, inhaling long and slow, as though cataloguing every note of me.

His chest expanded against mine, and when he exhaled, his breath was hot over my skin.

“You smell like want,” he murmured. “Like you’ve been holding this in for days. ”

My fingers curled into the front of his shirt, but he didn’t move to take it off. Not yet. His lips brushed over my scent gland in a barely-there touch that made my whole body jolt. “Sweet,” he said softly, almost to himself. “Ripe. All Omega.”

A low sound escaped me before I could stop it, and he caught it, his mouth curving faintly. “I’ll hear more of that before I’m done with you.”

He guided me back toward the nest with the kind of slow, deliberate control that had always been his signature. His body followed mine down, caging me without pressing me flat. His scent rolled over me, ink and snow, threading into my lungs until there was nothing in the world but him.

He didn’t strip me all at once. His hands were slow, patient, sliding beneath fabric to stroke bare skin before tugging the clothing away in unhurried pulls.

With each inch revealed, he bent and inhaled, nose dragging along my shoulder, the curve of my breast, the dip of my waist. Every time, he lingered to draw my scent deep, making a low, satisfied sound in his chest.

By the time I was bare to him, my thighs were already slick, my skin tingling under the heat of his attention. He didn’t rush to touch me there. Instead, he shifted lower, his nose pressing into the inside of my knee before following the path of my thigh, his breathing deepening with every inch.

When he finally reached the source of my heat, his eyes darkened to molten black. “Fuck,” he breathed, the word reverent. “You smell like you’re ready to be knotted already.”

My hips jerked when his breath ghosted over my slick folds, and he smiled like a predator who’d just confirmed his prey had nowhere to run.

He dragged the flat of his tongue up my slit, before swirling the tip around my clit.

My scent spiked, sharp and needy, and he groaned into me, the sound vibrating through my core.

“More,” I gasped, my hands fisting in his hair.

“You’ll get more,” he said, his voice steady, maddeningly calm. “After I’ve learned every way you like to be touched.”

And he did learn. His mouth explored me with the same precision he applied to everything, switching from languid circles to focused flicks, gauging every reaction by how my scent shifted under him. His fingers joined in, pressing into me with slow, stretching thrusts until I was shaking.

When he finally pulled back, his chin wet with me, I was breathless, needy.

“Jace–”

“Not yet,” he said, climbing over me again, letting the heavy length of his cock rest against my slick entrance without pushing in.

He lowered himself until he was fully pressed against me, his chest rubbing against my breasts, his mouth at my ear.

“Feel that?” he murmured, rocking his hips just enough for the head of his cock to slide against my clit.

“I could give it to you now. Fill you. Knot you. But then I wouldn’t get to watch you beg for it. ”

My pride frayed fast under the way he moved against me, deliberate, teasing, perfectly measured to keep me strung out without relief.

“Please, Jace,” I whispered, my hands clutching at his shoulders as pressure built inside me. "I need–"

"I know what you need," he assured me, his voice steady despite the effort evident in the tension of his muscles. "I've been watching you, learning you, since the day you arrived."

The admission should have unsettled me, this quiet Alpha studying me so carefully for months. Instead, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Of course Jace had been watching. Observation was his love language, attention his greatest gift.

“But that’s not enough.” His teeth grazed my throat, not biting, just tasting. “Say exactly what you want.”

I swallowed hard, the words trembling out of me. “I want your cock. I want your knot. Please, Jace, give it to me.”

Only then did he push inside, slow enough to make the stretch burn just right. He seated himself to the hilt, his groan rumbling against my ear as he stilled to let me feel every thick, heavy inch of him.

His thrusts stayed steady and deep, each one angled perfectly, grinding in ways that made heat coil tighter and tighter inside me. The tension in his body was palpable—shoulders rigid, jaw clenched—but his eyes never left mine.

“I can feel you gripping me,” he murmured, his voice thick with restraint. “Pulling. Wanting. Your body knows what it’s asking for.”

It did. Every clench of my muscles dragged him deeper, made the broad base of his cock grind against me in a way that was already bordering on too much.

“Say it,” he coaxed, his thumb pressing firmer against my clit. “Say what you’re begging for.”

“Your knot,” I gasped. “I want it. Please, Jace, fill me, knot me…”

His groan was low, guttural, the sound vibrating through his chest into mine. “Then take it.”

The next thrust was slower, heavier, his hips pressing flush so I could feel the thick swell beginning to form at the base of him. The pressure built gradually, a stretching fullness that made me whimper and clutch at his shoulders.

“Breathe,” he ordered softly, kissing the corner of my mouth even as his hips rolled again, pushing the knot further into me. “I won’t hurt you. I’ll give you every inch, but you’re going to feel it.”

I did. Gods, I felt it hot and insistent, the shape of him widening me from the inside out. My body’s first instinct was to tighten against the intrusion, but he stayed still, letting me adjust, his hands stroking my hips in slow, grounding circles.

“That’s it,” he praised, voice deep and warm. “You’re opening for me. Taking me so well.”

The knot swelled again, another wave of stretching heat, and this time my hips arched to meet him, desperate for the lock to seal. His eyes flared with hunger at the motion. “Yes. Just like that. Take me all the way.”

With one final push, the knot slid past that last tight ring of resistance, locking deep.

The sudden, perfect fullness stole my breath, my entire body seizing in pleasure.

A cry tore from my throat, raw and unrestrained, as my orgasm slammed into me, sharp and shuddering, my inner walls milking around the swollen base now holding him inside me.

Jace’s own release hit a heartbeat later, his hips pressing as far forward as they could go, every muscle taut as he spilled into me. His groan was low and drawn out, vibrating against my ear as his knot pulsed in rhythm with his climax, sending fresh waves of heat and fullness through me.

We stayed locked like that, our bodies trembling against each other, every throb of the knot forcing his seed deeper, every pulse keeping me achingly aware that he wasn’t going anywhere.

“You feel that?” he murmured against my temple, still catching his breath. “That’s me, inside you, keeping you. No one else. Just me.”

My fingers curled in his hair, pulling him closer so I could bury my face in his neck and breathe him in. The combination of his scent and the heavy, insistent fullness inside me sent a fresh shiver down my spine.

He stayed buried deep, one hand stroking my side in long, slow passes, the other cradling the back of my head. The knot didn’t soften immediately, if anything, its firm pressure was a constant reminder that we were bound, sealed together in a way that felt almost more intimate than the act itself.

“Mine,” he said again, quieter this time, like it wasn’t just a claim but a vow.

“Yours,” I whispered back, my voice thick. And I meant it, not just because of the knot holding us, but because of the way he’d given it to me: with patience, precision, and a kind of deliberate devotion that made surrender feel like the safest thing in the world.

Jace’s knot pulsed deep inside me, each subtle throb sending a warm ache radiating outward. My muscles were still quivering from the aftershocks, my breathing uneven, but Jace wasn’t in any rush to move. He stayed fully sheathed, body pressed to mine, the solid weight of him a steady anchor.

“You feel incredible,” he murmured, his lips brushing my temple. “Every squeeze, every shiver… perfect.”

My fingers tightened in his hair, holding him close, unwilling to break the cocoon of heat and scent around us. I was floating, but not drifting, he kept me grounded without pulling me out of the haze.

Then he shifted slightly, the knot tugging at my entrance just enough to make me gasp. His mouth found mine. “You’re still sweet for me,” he said against my lips before inhaling deeply. “Sweeter now, even.”