Page 168 of Beautifully Scarred Omega

She pulls back just enough to look at me.

“Why were you so cold to me in the beginning?”

The question lands in my gut. Because I remember. I could hardly look at her then, and I barely spoke to her. For a moment, I just hold her and try to figure out how to explain something I barely understood myself.

“Because every time I looked at you, I felt like I was losing my mind.” I say it against her hair. “From the first day you showed up at Synthera. I walked into that conference room and there you were, and I thought I was hallucinating. The woman from the gala. The one I’d been looking for.” My arms tighten around her. “And I couldn’t say anything. You were our operative. You were there to do a job. And I was standing there with my heart in my throat, wanting you so badly I couldn’t think straight.”

She lifts her head to look at me. Her green eyes are soft in the low light.

“I thought you hated me,” she says quietly.

“I was terrified of you.” I brush my thumb across her cheekbone. “Not of you—of what I felt. Because it wasn’t just attraction, Soph. It’s never been just attraction. Since the gala, since that first night, it’s felt like something so much bigger than that.” I swallow. “Like I’d been waiting for you my whole life and didn’t know it until you were standing right in front of me.”

Her chin trembles. Her hand presses flat against my chest, over my heart.

“I love you, Finn.”

The words go through me like electricity. I’ve imagined hearing them. I’ve wanted them. But nothing comes close to hearing them now—quiet, steady, certain, from a woman who doesn’t say things she doesn’t mean.

“Say it again,” I whisper.

“I love you.”

I kiss her. Slow, deep, my hand cradling the back of her head, and I let her feel all of it—the months of wanting, the nights I lay awake thinking about her, the fear that I’d never get to have this.

When I pull back, her eyes are bright and her lips are swollen and she’s looking at me like I’m the only thing in the room.

“I love you too, Soph,” I say. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to say that.”

She gives me a small, trembling smile and shifts in my lap. My cock is still hard against her thigh, straining against my boxers, and we both feel it at the same time. Her breath catches. Her eyes drop between us, then come back to mine, and the look in them has changed—darker, hungrier, the softness from a moment ago still there but layered now with something that makes my pulse spike.

“Finn.” Her voice is husky. “I want to see you.”

I stand and pull my boxers down, watching her face as she takes me in. Her lips part, her tongue sweeping across her lower lip, and the way she looks at me makes my hands curl into fists at my sides.

She reaches out and wraps her hands around my shaft. Her fingers don’t close all the way and the length of me extends beyond both of her fists. She grips experimentally, testing the weight, and the breath that leaves me is shattered.

“Fuck, Sophie.” My hand moves to her hair, fingers tangling at the base of her skull. “I might come just from this.”

“Finn,” she whispers. “I want to suck your cock.”

“Fuck, Soph. Those words from your mouth.”

She leans forward and licks the tip tentatively. Then she licks my shaft from the base to the tip, one long, slow, flat stroke that makes my knees nearly buckle. Her eyes are half-closed and she makes a small sound of pleasure in her throat like she’s enjoying this as much as I am.

“Take all of me, sweetheart.”

She takes me into her mouth a little at a time, her cheeks hollowing. She can barely fit me—my girth stretches her lips wide—but she doesn’t pull back. She pushes further, working me deeper, and the sight of her trying so hard to take all of me makes my hips jerk forward.

“Fuck, Soph, yes, that’s it. Grip me with your hands where I don’t fit.”

Her hands move, gripping me, and she keeps going until I hit the back of her throat and my vision goes white.

“Jesus Christ, Sophie—” My hand tightens in her hair. She moves tentatively, as if finding her rhythm, and the wet sounds filling the quiet space are going to be seared into my memory forever.

Sophie moans around me and the vibration travels up my spine. Her hand slides lower, past the base of my shaft, and her fingers find my knot—already starting to swell, throbbing at the base—and she wraps her hand around it and squeezes gently. Then she pulls her mouth off my cock and dips her head lower and licks the knot, her tongue hot and wet, circling it, sucking the swollen flesh into her mouth.

“Fuck, Soph—” My voice cracks. My thighs are shaking. “You’re going to make me come if you keep doing that.”