Page 144 of Unhinged

“He’s not going far,” I murmur, kicking off my boots. “Just outside.”

I sink down onto the mattress beside her. The scent of her heat curls in the air—sweet and sharp and so fucking thick I can taste it. I shoot off a quick text to Suave.

Me: Bring snacks + water. Check if water’s on in the shed. We might need to shower.

Not ideal to have another alpha bring anything near her right now, but the clubhouse is nearly wiped of snacks and water after sending most of it off with the women and kids. We don’t have time for a supply run, and Gears and Arrow still aren’t back.

He hits me back fast with a thumbs up emoji, and I huff out a breath. Good. Still, I hesitate. Then I type again.

Me: Drop them at the door and text me. Linger one second more than needed and I’ll rip your cock off and feed it to you.

Gidge shifts, her body heat seeping into mine. She whines, all breathy and soft, and wiggles closer until her cheek brushes my stomach.

“I got you, Omega,” I murmur.

Her hands fumble at her shirt. “Hot,” she mumbles.

I reach for her, but she’s already yanking the thing over her head, tossing it aside. No bra. Of course not. She never fucking wears one. I hum, running my fingers from her collarbone down the slope of her stomach. Her skin’s burning.

“We should get you outta these,” I say, popping the button of her pants.

She nods, eyes hazy, lips parted. “Please.”

I peel her pants down slowly, and the scent that hits me nearly knocks me on my ass. My body answers instantly. Every alpha instinct I have is screaming. Claim her. Mark her. Knot her. Make her safe.

But she’s not just a heat-drunk omega.

She’s Brydgett.

Ours.

Strong. Twisted. Brilliant. Bloody.

And she’s mine to take care of right now.

She moans and arches up, fingers slipping between her thighs. “Need you,” she whimpers, already working herself. Her scent spikes, sticky-sweet and so powerful it clogs my throat.

Then I’m moving fast, stripping off everything; cut, shirt, pants. But I don’t throw the cut. I set it down gently on the chair in the corner. My hands tremble, not from fear, but from the raw pull of instinct. My cock’s already hard, aching, leaking just from being near her. I wrap my hand around it, slow and firm, giving it one stroke while I look at her.

Stunning.

Sexy.

Strong.

Flat on her back, hair spread like red fire across the bedding, thighs parted, lips swollen and glistening. She’s perfect. And she’s begging.

I drop to my knees at the edge of the mattress, heart pounding.

This is mine.She’smine.

Her hand’s in the way.

I smack her hand away with a smirk. “Not your job right now,” I rumble. “It’smine.” My hands run up her thighs.

“Gonna taste you, Omega,” I say, voice thick with need. “You gonna be a good girl and give me your sweet cream?”

“Yes,” she breathes, desperate.