Chapter 42: Her Turn

She stays at his place every night for almost a week.

It’s heaven, mostly— but also hell. Because his entire apartment smells like both of them, and she also, finally, smells like him, and it’s just this side of too much for him, letting her leave for the day without f*cking her senseless first. Sometimes he can’t help himself, and she stumbles out of his—their— bedroom, dazed and smiling and sated and smelling like a well serviced Omega. Like his Omega.

It occurs to him, one evening, that it’s usually a desperate frenzy when he ends up between her legs. That Alpha part of him takes over, and the next thing he knows, she’s on her hands and knees, or her back, or best of all, on top of him, making those noises that he adores as her slick coats him. She never complains, but sometimes he wonders if he’s not doing enough.

She looks up from the book she’s reading and catches him staring at her from the other corner of the couch. She smiles, winks, and goes right back to reading.