“It’s okay.”
All it took was the sound of Syn’s voice to make everything all right. Not that she had been worried, anyway. With him, she was safe.
“We’re in the surgical unit,” he said softly. “Manny’s driving us back to the training center. We just left downtown.”
She wanted to release his vein to speak, but her mouth refused to follow that order.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured, “the partition is shut. We’re alone.”
As if she were worried about privacy? The only thing she cared about was that he was with her.
Nursing from his life spring, she memorized his features. The deeply set eyes. The Mohawk. The hollow cheeks and strong jaw. His wide shoulders. His heavy pectorals and thick, powerful arms . . .
Another need began to rise inside of her.
And as if he read her mind, his lids lowered. “Yes,” he purred. “I can give you that, too.”
Somehow, he managed to reposition her flat on her back on the cold, hard metal floor—not that she cared—and she helped him with her jeans as best she could, kicking off her boots, dragging the lengths down with socked toes. All the while, she was aware of making mewling noises, begging him, pleading with him.
Her core needed him as much as her changed demanded his blood.
She felt his fingers slip and slide against her sex first, and then there was a pause.
“I love you, Jo,” he said roughly.
Releasing his vein, she stared up into his harsh face. “I love you, too.”
Jo cried out as he entered her, his thick erection filling her up. And then he started pumping, slowly at first, just a rocking—and she intended to follow his rhythm. She could not. She had to relatch with his wrist so all she could do was absorb his thrusts. Faster. Harder.
Jo closed her eyes again. In the back of her mind, she knew this was unfair to ask of him. Given that he could not find release, it would only hurt him in the end.
But the sex was something he seemed determined to give her.
No matter the cost to himself.
That was the man—male, rather—she loved, however. He would do anything, absolutely anything . . .
. . . for his female.
Syn must have checked that that partition, separating the treatment space from the mobile surgical unit’s cockpit, was locked in place a hundred times.
Okay, that was an exaggeration. But only a slight one.
He did not want anyone to see Jo undone as she was, being intimately serviced by her male—had she really told him she loved him?— and that especially included one of her brothers. Not that he was worried about defending his female, even against a member of her own bloodline.
He may have turned over a new leaf with his talhman, but he was still a killer. His reaction as he’d been approached while feeding his female proved it.
Looking down into the face of his shellan, he watched the way her head moved back and forth as he penetrated her and retreated, penetrated and retreated. The feel of her hot, wet core was going straight to his head, and then there was the sight of her at his vein. His hips jerked and began to pump on reflex, something taking over him.
As the rhythm of his pelvis increased, Syn began to pant, the pleasure ramping up inside of him even though it had nowhere to go. But what the fuck did he care. Beneath his surging body, Jo was in ecstasy, her arousal scent thick in the air, her body absorbing his thrusts, both her hands locked on his forearm to make sure his vein didn’t go anywhere away from her mouth.
Giving himself up to the sex, his body rode the wave, closing in on the terminal moment that would not come, the lip of pleasure from which he would never fly, the culmination that was an ever-moving target he would never close—
Syn’s eyes squeezed closed and his molars locked.
Sweat broke out across his face, down his neck . . . and over his chest under his clothes.
Slapping into the seat of Jo’s pelvis, he groaned deep in his throat as the pleasure pinpointed into pain, the worst it had ever been because his female was the very best he had ever—
The orgasm crackled through Syn’s body as his hips locked into place, all of the tension releasing in an explosion of sensations that brought a sacred easing, an indescribable floating peace, a soaring exhalation as he ejaculated over and over again, filling his female up.
Syn dropped his head down, his forehead against the corrugated floor of the surgical van. For a moment, he thought he was losing consciousness, everything spinning. But then he returned to his body.
And continued to pleasure his female.
It was a new landscape of experience, and he explored it with her, the pleasure rising up again, finding that potential, renewing the ascension. The second time it happened for him, as he approached the release, he wondered if it wasn’t going to fail on him. After centuries of impotence, he expected more of the same even after his first data point to the contrary.
He was wrong.
He orgasmed again.
And again.
And again.
As did his female.
It turned out his body just knew what it wanted. And it had saved itself through entire eras of progress and innovation and revolution and evolution . . .
. . . for the one female it wanted to give itself to.
What a wise choice, Syn thought with a smile as he started to ride the waves once more.
Butch needed to be driven back to the mansion in the R8.
Even after V materialized downtown and went to work on him, he didn’t have the energy to do more than respirate. Fortunately, his best friend was on it. In fact, Vishous was straight-up empowered. In spite of doing his cleansing routine, and throwing up mhis around the scene in the alley, he was snappy as a spring motherfucker.
Then again, winning the war had a way of perking a brother up. Especially after Butch and his roomie had just conference-called their females and gotten to play the victorious warriors returning to the home front with the spoils.
Which, okay, fine, were nothing but some serious bragging rights. What the fuck did it matter, though! The happiness in Marissa’s and Jane’s voices was more than enough of a reward. Plus, hello, everyone was coming back with a heartbeat.
Although Syn was going to need some surgery. Assuming the Bastard didn’t let Jo drain him dry in the back of that RV. At least Manny was watching over them like a hawk.
Letting his head lull in the direction of his bestie, Butch rolled his eyes. “I still can’t believe it. It’s over. It’s done. The Omega is gone.”
“But we got a replacement.” V glanced over. “Your little friend.”
“Balance, right?” Butch went back to looking out the front windshield. “It’s all about balance. Did you know your mom had another sister?”
“No. But there’s a lot I don’t know about her.”
“Well. There you go.”
As V’s phone went off with a text, he nodded at the unit in the console. “Check that will you. I’m feeling like I want to keep my eyes on the road tonight. Fuck only knows what happens next.”
Butch snagged the Samsung and put in his roommate’s passcode. As the thing came alive, he went into the text that had just come through. When he saw who it was from, he nearly put the screen back facedown.
Tossing the damn cell out the window also had an appeal.
Things were going so well. Couldn’t they have a moment’s peace—