Page 51 of Unhinged Alphas

I catch it in his scent, too, as it rises to meet mine. I'm not in heat, but I'm still perfuming, our mingling scents dancing invisibly around us. A testament to how much our instincts want this, even if there are so many logical reasons not to.

Before I can second-guess myself, I climb onto his lap, straddling his massive, muscular thighs. As lean and honed as he is, his torso is like a tree trunk and I don't even think I could come anywhere close to wrapping my arms around him. Wraith goes utterly still beneath me, his hands hovering uncertainly at my sides.

"It's okay," I murmur, taking his hands and placing them on my hips. "I can show you what to do, if you want."

Wraith nods, a barely perceptible movement. His fingers flex against my hips, and I have to suppress a shiver at the feeling of his rough skin against mine.

"You can touch me," I breathe, leaning in close. "Anywhere you want."

For a moment, Wraith doesn't move. Then, slowly, reverently, his hands begin to explore. They slide up my sides, skimming over my ribs, my back, my shoulders. His touch is so light and careful, as if he's afraid I might shatter under his hands. Like I'm a butterfly, fragile and beautiful.

I expect him to go for the obvious places. My breasts, my ass. That's what alphas usually want, after all. But Wraith surprises me. His hands travel back up, cupping my face with a gentleness that makes my breath catch.

The intensity of his gaze should frighten me. Instead, I find myself leaning into it, craving more of this connection that feels deeper than anything I've ever experienced.

His thumbs brush over my cheekbones, tracing the curve of my face as if committing it to memory.His eyes never leave mine, drinking in every detail. I'm struck by the reverence in his touch, the awe in his gaze. It's as if he can't quite believe I'm real, that I'm here with him like this. Even with all my scars, all my rough edges, my wildness, Wraith looks at me like I'm something precious.

His fingers trace the line of my jaw, down my neck, ghosting over the pulse point I know is racing, the gnarled scar near my shoulder. I shiver, not from fear, but from the intensity of the sensations he's awakening in me.

Something inside me begins to crack open. For the first time in my life, I don't feel broken or damaged.

I feel... whole.

Accepted.

Seen.

Tears prick at my eyes, and I blink them back furiously. I won't cry. Not now. But as Wraith's hand cups my cheek again, his thumb brushing away a tear I didn't realize had fallen, I realize it might be too late for that.

I feel Wraith tense beneath me, his hand stilling on my cheek. His eyes search mine, worry clouding their blue depths. I can almost hear the question he can't voice.Did I do something wrong?

"It's okay," I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. "I'm not upset. It's just... nice."

The word feels inadequate, but I don't know how else to describe this feeling. This warmth that's spreading through me, melting the ice I've built around my heart over years of survival.

Wraith's brow furrows, confusion replacing worry. His free hand moves.Why? he asks again.

I understand his bewilderment. Why would I, an omega who's suffered so much at the hands of alphas, want to be touched by one? Why would I allow myself to be this vulnerable?

"Because it's you," I say softly, surprising myself with the honesty in my voice. "You're… different."

His eyes widen, a mix of disbelief and hope flickering across what I can see of his face. I can see the struggle in his expression, the battle between his desire to believe me and his deep-seated self-loathing.

I lean into his touch, nuzzling my cheek against his palm. "It's okay," I murmur again. "You can keep going. I want you to."

For a moment, Wraith doesn't move. Then, slowly, his hand slides from my cheek to the back of my neck. His fingers tangle in my hair, gentle yetfirm. The touch sends a shiver down my spine, awakening nerve endings I didn't even know I had.

His other hand moves to mirror the first, both now buried in my auburn waves. He runs his fingers through the strands, his touch reverent. I can't help but lean into it, my eyes fluttering closed at the sensation.

When was the last time someone touched me like this? So gently, so carefully? I can't remember. Maybe never.

Wraith's hands continue their exploration, trailing down from my hair to my shoulders, then lower. I hold my breath as his fingers skim over the swell of my breasts, barely touching through the thin fabric of my shirt.

Even that light touch is enough to make my nipples harden, a rush of heat flooding through me. My omega instincts flare to life, responding to his alpha presence in a way I've never experienced before when I'm not in heat.

I open my eyes to find Wraith staring at me, his gaze a mix of awe and hunger. His hands hover uncertainly, as if he's afraid to take that final step. A smile tugs at my lips, and without breaking eye contact, I reach down and pull my shirt over my head, tossing it aside.

Wraith's blown wide pupils drop to my newly exposed skin. His broad chest rises and falls with quickened breaths.