Reborn (Alpha's Claim 3)

Reaching down he hooked her legs over his arms, lifted her against the wall. He opened her up, without ever breaking the contact of their mouths. The first spearing thrust of possession was almost enough to draw out her climax. Claire felt him smile against her lips, and whined when he pressed biting kisses down her jaw, her mouth tingling and hungry for more attention.

Brimming with Shepherd heavy and thick inside her, the Alpha tasting every inch he could reach, Claire found herself mirroring his movement. She kissed his neck, bit his ear as he often had done to her, lapping at the shell. When her actions brought the man to slam his fist against the wall, it didn’t frighten her. Deep, under layers of complications, worry faded, because she felt safe. Fear disappeared, because she felt loved. And the link sang that so long as she remained in that room, so long as she was bound to the Alpha adoring her with his mouth and body, she could be both those things.

Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, the Omega climbing a thrusting mountain, until she claimed his lips again. He seemed almost surprised, the flash of silver between his lashes only thrilling to her. The rut turned far more aggressive, a part of Claire wondering if he even realized how desperately he moaned as he jerked against her body.

She could almost hear his thoughts: Take your victory...

That’s what this was. She’d made him vulnerable, she had the power, and that was why he had stared... gauging if she knew. It was rare for him to be the one to lose control, yet there he was, mumbling something against her skin, something soft and breathy, a sound very much like, “love me,” over and over.

And god help her, she wanted to.

Shepherd’s hips rocked, angled so he could hit that fleshy spot inside her, groaning when Claire keened appreciatively from his effort.

“Love me,” he said it again, demanding and loud, absolutely unashamed.

The sensitive flesh of her swelling breast was fondled, a nipple toyed with as he surged. He smelled so perfect, tasted even better, Claire’s tongue dancing with his, relishing Shepherd, mimicking the penetration of his cock. The feeling of him smiling against her mouth again was all it took in the end, a taste of his joy so much more exquisite than any sexual gratification. The swell of pleasure crested, broke through her as she held him tighter, Shepherd’s name passing from her lips.

The saturation of the groan he made once the rippling strangle on his cock began, it wrecked her. She shivered, feeling him grind deeply to knot. They were both panting when their mouths broke apart, each gazing at the other, expressions opposite of the distrust and suspicion from before.

Watching his kiss-swollen lips form his declaration, “I love you, little one,” was captivating.

Glancing from his mouth to his liquid silver eyes, Claire gave him the only olive branch she could. She took a deep breath, and claimed, “Your son is making me hungry.”

Shepherd laughed, the rich sound that came out was beautiful when suspicion did not alter the tone. For just a moment, she was struck by the splendor of his smile. He kissed her long and deep. “Then I shall feed you. I will care for my mate and our child.”

“I want raspberries.”

The nature of his arms around her grew gentle. “I always make sure there are raspberries on the premises for you.”

“I know you do.”Walking through the door with a scowl and bruised jaw was not exactly the picture Corday wanted to present to Leslie Kantor. She did not respond with favor to perceived weakness, and he needed her to keep him in her counsel. Brigadier Dane had been right. Leslie’s talk of saving Claire had diminished. But, there had been a spark in her the second Corday handed over his analyzed maps of the Citadel, his notes, and tested her. “You might be right. Claire may have betrayed us. If your rebels can find her, there should be a trial.”

He did this because he loved Claire. He did it because he knew Brigadier Dane was the only soldier who might actually care if the Omega lived.

Leslie’s subtle hints had done their work. Around the Premier’s Sector, the name Claire O’Donnell had become a whispered curse. He’d seen their contempt when the few rebels chosen for the rescue mission absorbed their orders. He felt it every time Leslie spoke of Shepherd’s mate.

Day by day, he trusted Lady Kantor less. Day by day, he silently prayed for Claire.

Today, his prayers were answered. The morning had started simply enough. Scrounging for supplies was second nature at this point. Corday knew what to watch for, who not to look in the eye while he scuttled through the causeways.