“I know you do,” he hums, gathering me in his arms and pulling me against him before turning to spread me out over the mound of blankets and pillows lining the bottom of the tent. “I know exactly what you need.”

His kiss is gentle when he curls his big body over me to press his lips to mine, but in my current state, it feels like that isn’t enough. I nip at his lower lip like some sort of animal—and under different circumstances I might find that funny—but right now, all I can think about is the ache between my legs and deep down in my belly, begging for some sort of satisfaction. Satisfaction that I’m starting to understand only he can give me.

I gasp when I feel his cock slot between my legs, so thick and hard already that it steals my breath, I want it so much. “Please,” I beg, hardly even recognizing my own voice. “Please, Hunter.”

“Fuck, Tess,” he rasps. “The way you smell right now…” He lifts his head, that same wildness in his eyes, the pupils so enlarged they nearly swallow his irises. “You need my knot, don’t you, omega?”

“Please,” I plead again, my nails digging into his sides as I try to pull him back down to me. “Need you.”

“I told you,” he says, his voice gravelly and low and seeming to reach right between my legs like a caress. His large hands circle my waist, gripping me tight as his thumbs span across my belly, stroking there. “I know exactly what you need.”

My head tilts back and my mouth gapes open when he starts to push inside me, stretching me with a wonderful burn of a different kind—one that is almost enough to distract me from the fire licking at my skin. Almost.

Hunter takes his time inching inside me, his pace too slow for my liking, but if I close my eyes, I can focus on the hot length of him filling me, and he bites at my lower lip roughly as I cling to his hips. He never takes his hands off my waist, keeping a tight hold on me and almost pinning me down as he goes just a little deeper.

“So wet,” he says on a sigh, and when I open my eyes, I catch him staring down between us as he bottoms out. “So fucking hot inside.”

“Feels so good,” I whine. “More. I need more.”

“You need more?” His thumb skims along my belly as he stirs his hips. “You need me to fuck this pretty pussy?”

“Please,” I mewl, my vision blurring and my embarrassment at begging flying out the window. “Please move.”

Hunter’s teeth press into his lower lip as he looks down at me from beneath hooded lids, holding my gaze as he slowly pulls out of me. I feel every inch of him, can feel the slight bulge of his knot as it eases out of me, the press of it against my inner walls sending a flurry of sparks through my system that threaten to steal my breath.

“Look at you,” he breathes, his voice shaky. His breath catches when his knot slips inside me again, a flush creeping down his neck. “You look so pretty when you’re full of me. Fuck, Tess. You look like a goddamn daydream.”

I gasp when he thrusts hard—the sudden fullness so intense that I feel fit to burst. It’s too much and yet not nearly enough, and I reach above myself to grip the pillows scattered about our tent. He rocks his hips in a smooth motion when he withdraws this time, never slowing as he pulls out to the tip only to glide back inside.

The sounds in our tiny space—wet, slick sounds that only betray how needy I am—add to the frenzy building inside me. I need his next thrust more than air; I don’t think I knew what need really was until this moment.

I feel like I’m burning when he pulls one hand away from my waist to lick the pad of his thumb, then brings it between us and rolls it against my clit. The simple touch sets me off like a firework, and I claw at the bedding above my head, trying to get closer or to escape—I’m not even sure which.

“That’s it,” he hums. “That’s a good girl.” He paints a circle against the swollen bud, each touch making me clench around the hard length of him as he rocks in and out of me. “You’re going to take everything I give you, aren’t you? You’re going to take it because you need me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I hiss, my eyes rolling back. “Need it. Need you.”

Through the haze, I don’t miss the slight edge to his voice, and something primal inside me preens at the knowledge that this is satisfying to him, that maybe he needs me too. His hand is still on my belly, so I cover it with mine, urging it upward, and he lets his palm slide over my sternum and between my breasts. I hold it there over my heart, clutching his fingers in mine as I push down on his still-thrusting cock.

“I do,” I say again. “I need you, Hunter.”

His pupils flare, his jaw clenching for only a moment before his arms wind around me, urging me off my back. He gathers me up in his embrace like it’s nothing, like it’s easy, and holds me to him as his mouth covers mine. My thighs bracket his hips as I straddle his lap, the angle forcing him deeper, forcing his knot to press into a place inside me that has me seeing stars.

“Hunter,” I cry against his tongue.

“I’ve got you,” he growls. “You’re mine.”

In my current state, those words do funny things to my brain, making me shiver all over as I wrap my arms around his neck to cling to him more tightly. My tongue tangles with his as he bounces me on his lap, my slickness leaking out to wet his thighs in a way that might embarrass me any other time. But right now? Right now it only makes me burn hotter, knowing that I’m marking him this way. It makes me feel like—for right now, at least—he’s mine too.

His kisses move to my jaw, then across my cheek, farther still to my throat, and I can feel the sharp press of his teeth against my ear before he rasps, “I own this pretty pussy, and I’m going to knot you until neither of us can walk.”

And that sounds like heaven, like bliss, and the raging inferno inside me climbs to new heights, threatening to carry me away. I cling to him like he’s holding me down, and in a lot of ways, he is. His arms keep me rooted on his lap, his cock fills me in a way that makes me feel desperate, and his scent dizzies me but in the best way. I bury my face in his neck to draw in more of it, a choked cry escaping when he fills me just right.

I feel his fingers in my hair, winding through the strands and gripping them tight enough to urge my head back, forcing me to look at him. He holds me there as he thrusts up into me roughly, baring my throat to his gaze as he studies it intently. I don’t know what he sees—can’t fathom what he’s looking at—but in the next second his lips follow the path of his eyes, and he puts his mouth on the tender skin there, his tongue licking at a place near the bend of my shoulder, making me seize up.

“Oh.”

“Do you know what this is?” He licks there again, nibbling with his teeth gently. “This is your mating gland,” he explains. “If someone bites you here, if you bite them back…it binds you. Did you know that?”

And he makes no further moves, and deep down beneath the haze I know that this isn’t something for us—it’s too soon, nonsensical even—but amid my fevered thoughts, the explanation still makes me shiver.

His nose is buried in my throat. “You smell so fucking good. You feel so fucking good. It’s too much.” He nuzzles that gland, and I tense up in the most delicious of ways, his cock swelling, feeling a bit thicker than before. “I need you to come, because when you do, I’m going to fill you up. I want you so full of me that you feel me for days.”

I realize all at once how much I want that too, and when his fingers dive between us, skimming just below my belly button, I find myself nodding eagerly even as their tips collide with my clit.

“Right there,” I breathe. “Don’t stop.”

“Not stopping,” he hums. “Never stopping.”

He rolls the sensitive bundle between his fingers expertly, applying exactly the right amount of pressure, enough that the fire licking at my skin seems to take on a singular purpose, pooling low in my belly and even deeper as the pleasure climbs higher and higher. My nails bite against his shoulders—they’re surely going to leave a mark, and I like that too. I want to mark every inch of him. I want to sink my teeth into his skin until he bruises. I want so many things that have never occurred to me in the slightest, and I can’t say how much of it is my heat or just…him.