Page 20

Chapter 19

Frozen

Titus

S inclair stays with me until the sunset’s last rays dip below the horizon. She asks if I want to go back with her, but I turn her down. Instead, I finish the bottle and stay on the shore until I, unfortunately, sober up. As an alpha, it takes a lot to get me drunk. Our bodies metabolize the alcohol too quickly, which is great for hangovers but shitty when you don’t want to face reality. 1

It also means my liquor blanket goes to shit. By the time I decide to pack it in, the moon is high in the sky and I am sober, cold, and fucking miserable.

One of the reasons I stayed out so late was so I wouldn’t have to answer any of Bishop’s mother-hen questions. I should have known I wouldn’t get so lucky. Despite being well past midnight when I get back to the wing, he and Ecker are still awake on the couch.

“I’m fine. Just tired. I’m going to bed.” I throw my hand out before they can say anything, going straight to my room.

“You have unconditional permission,” Bishop says.

I hesitate at my door. “What?”

“She made us give it,” he continues, standing up to look at me over the couch. “Right before she shot herself up with the paralytic.”

“ What?” I ask again. Maybe I’m not as sober as I thought . . .

On the coffee table, I spot the medicine case Seventeen brought for Merigold. A second syringe is now missing.

I tip my head toward my room. “She’s in there?” I practically whisper, as if I’m worried I’ll scare the possibility away.

Ecker nods. “She wanted us to tell you to be gentle, but I know you will, bro. We don’t need to tell you that.”

Now, I’m stone-cold sober. Because there’s no way I would be able to feel this massive storm of butterflies in my stomach if I were drunk.

They think her message is a warning, but I know it’s not.

The paralytic, telling me to be “gentle” . . . it’s an invitation.

“Yeah, okay,” I mumble in response as I slowly turn the knob, tuning them out and tuning into the déjà vu waiting for me.

My heart stammers as I take in her silver hair spread out on my pillow. Just like in my dream, she doesn’t stir as I quietly close the door. The only thing different from then is she’s not wearing my shirt. She’s not wearing anything.

Her bare shoulders peek out from the covers, and the urge to tenderly kiss each one is a pining deep in my soul. The closer I get to the bed, the more goose bumps cascade down my arms. She looks like she’s sleeping so peacefully. I study her while I strip and realize she actually is.

Her breathing is slow and even. It doesn’t deviate when I slide in behind her. She’s on her side, and I fit against her, cradling her body with mine.

Warm, soft, and completely at my mercy.

My arm wraps around her and caresses the smooth canvas of her stomach to the swell of her breast. Being able to so leisurely touch her skin like this is an indulgence I don’t take for granted.

I lightly trace a swirling pattern around her nipple until it grows taut and sweet. At the same time, my cock stiffens, and the rut is a fuzzy, tingling sensation in the back of my mind.

Breathing in her delicate vanilla-citrus scent, I ghost my lips over the back of her neck and shoulder. I want to relearn every inch of her, to know the landscape of her body by touch alone. I want the slow and the sweet, the unhurried and the indulgent.

I want it all with her.

I want her quivering body and her shattering pieces. Her supple heat and her divine pleasure.

My hand glides back down her body, over her stomach and between her legs. I pause after my fingers brush her pussy, checking to make sure she hasn’t woken. She remains peacefully asleep—her breathing doesn’t change even as I dip between her folds. My cock jerks against her back as I gather her slick juices and stroke them up to her clit. I circle it with two fingers, delicately swirling until it swells and her cunt gets wetter.

I want to wake her body before her mind. I want her pussy so hot and slick that I can just slip inside and she won’t wake up until I’m seated deep in her cunt.

As I work her in slow, meticulous circles, I carefully reposition so my cock slides between her thighs. Not into her pussy, but right below so her wetness drips onto my length and I can tease myself with slow, smooth thrusts, coating her inner thighs as I glide back and forth.

Somehow, this feels even dirtier than if we were actually having sex. A stolen pleasure made possible by the proof of her unconscious lust. It feels forbidden and lewd, but decadently so.

And the way it keeps my rut at bay while still drawing it closer and closer is a high all on its own, to see how far can I take it before losing my mind, losing myself in her.

My blood heats, my patience fraying, but I luxuriate in every shredded strand, knowing it’s safe to lose control.

My thrusts gradually increase in tempo and force until I can’t resist any longer.

I sink into her waiting pussy. I groan against her neck, and a spark ignites at the base of my spine. Fuuckk . . . she feels so good.

With my head swimming and pleasure melting over me, I almost miss the hitch in her breath, the spike and almost choppy quality it now has. She’s awake.

But still paralyzed.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” I breathe against her skin, rocking my pelvis back only to punch deeper into her. “To wake up with my cock buried deep in your pussy and know I couldn’t wait, that I had to be inside you.”

I’m not sure if the little sound that comes from her is a muffled attempt to speak or moan or if it’s merely her breath being expelled when I palm her stomach to fuck her with tender, deep strokes.

I can’t stop my hands from roaming her body, still fully at my mercy.

I find her clit again. Her breathing becomes raspy the more I play with it, and despite the paralytic, her inner walls still flutter around me like a crescendo, her body singing for me in a silent concert.

“You’re gonna come so sweetly for me, Omega. I can’t wait to feel your pussy clench when you come apart without being able to make a single sound,” I murmur, holding her tighter and lavishing my brother’s bite mark with my tongue, a spot I know is extra sensitive.

A weak, muted sound comes from her. It’s not quite a moan, but more than just heavy exhale. Either way, I tell her, “Shh, don’t fight it, let me make you feel good.”

Her breath comes in ragged streaks, and blood rushes to my balls as her pussy tightens around me. “That’s it, fucking milk my cock, Omega.” I clench my teeth together as heat and pleasure and pressure coil tightly together.

“So . . . fucking . . . good for . . . your alpha— oh fuck, yes, fuuckk—” I come with a sputtering curse, pumping cum deep inside her. Her legs tremble uncontrollably, and I continue massaging her clit until they slowly stop. Her breath is heavy and her skin is slick with a thin sheen of sweat.

She came so sweetly, just like I asked. But I want more.

She’s breathless and sweaty, and I. Want. More.

I want it all over again.

Her, in my bed, on my tongue.

I gently pull out, roll her onto her back, and toss the covers off us, unwrapping her like a gift so I can look my fill at her perfect body.

The perfect gift.

It isn’t lost on me that’s exactly what she’s given me with this night together.

It’s more than just physical. It’s something intangible, something that, while still a gift, can’t be wrapped up in a bow.

And I try to receive it with gratitude as I kiss down her naked body. Her chest, her waist, her stomach, her hips. Every brush of my lips another thank you. Every inch of skin, a treasure worth cherishing.

I push her knees to the sides as I settle on my stomach between them. I lightly drag my fingers through her pussy, spreading her lips to see my mark.

“Your pussy is so pretty overflowing with my cum, so perfect, so . . . well bred.”

My two fingers holding her open come together to push into her entrance. Our cum soaks them, and I use the mess to stroke in and out, curling against her G-spot with each pass.

My mouth joins my fingers, and I become lost in the way we taste together. Is it possible to become addicted to something with a single taste?

Soon, my cock is hardening again, and just like in my dream, I grind my hips into the mattress.

Suddenly, I stop. Was that me rocking the bed . . . or was that her? I get my answer when her hips lift in a small and subtle nudge against my mouth.

“Yeah, Omega, speak to me.” I breathe into her flesh, begging it to use the language only we know. Her pelvis rocks again. I press my tongue firmly against her clit to meet her small movements.

It’s slow and exquisite as she comes back into her body. We easily sync with each other’s rhythm, working together to bring her back to the edge. I feel her tense above me and her pussy pulses around my finger.

She’s so close to coming undone for me again. My rut and alpha nature demand I take her there, make her shatter once more, but a soft, barely-there whisper pulls me off my one-track mind.

I lift my head but keep my fingers pumping gently in and out. I’m sure she said something. 2 “What was that, Omega?”

Her eyelids look heavy and weak, but her eyes peek out at me. I see her lips move, but the sound is too faint. “Tell me what you need,” I encourage.

“K-ki . . .” Her brows pinch in effort. “K-kiss . . . m-me.”

My chest blooms, my ribcage stretching to accommodate the way my heart beats twice as fast. Despite my increasing heartbeat, I move slowly, scared to rattle this moment. I place my forearms by her head and gently dip my head to meet her.

Her mouth melts into me, and I drink her in, every taste, every sigh, every smooth caress of her lips against mine. Perfect. Dizzying.

I lower my hips to rock into her, my cock sliding over her pussy. She moans and this time, there’s no doubting that sound. It’s one of pure pleasure as she tastes us at the same time as she feels us together.

It ignites me. Suddenly feverish to be surrounded by her again, I can’t help it.

“I can’t stop—” I confess, plunging inside her on the next rock of my hips. “I’m lost if I’m not inside you.”

She whimpers in response, wrapping her legs around my waist, pulling me closer. “ Alpha . . .”

I melt into her, burying my face in the crook of her neck and driving into her with hard, deep thrusts. Each one cracks something apart inside of me as the voice from the Fortitude Trial comes back to me.

Why did you think they’d want you?

Her hands curl around the back of my head, stroking my neck and hair.

Why did you think they’d want—

“Oh, yesss,” she mewls in my ear.

Why did you think—

She holds me tight, and I hear her heart beating steadily in her chest.

Why did—

Thrust after thrust, the voice grows weaker and weaker until it’s replaced with hers.

“Alpha, oh god, Alpha! Will you come for me?” Her back arches and her nails claw down my back as she cries, “Please , please, come with me.”

And I do, finally listening to the only voice that matters.

1. “The Hills” by The Weeknd

2. “Silhouette” (feat. Ellie Goulding) by Active Child, Ellie Goulding