“You took me so well last night,” I mutter between breaths. “I think your hole deserves some personal attention. Don’t you?”

  I fuck him with my tongue while playing with his cock and balls, instantly enthralled by his sweetness. I need him to come apart again. The memory from yesterday already isn’t enough. I need him completely and utterly exposed and screaming my name like it’s the only thing getting air to his lungs.

  Rus’s delicious slick oozing his pheromone scent runs down my chin.

  My omega. My lovely, eager omega.

  I draw my brows together and close my eyes, my sanity quickly leaving me. This time, I don’t even fight it, because I need to be inside him.

  He whimpers and rocks his body against my face, legs trembling, as I thrust my tongue deeper and run it along Rus’s soft inner walls. I use my fingers to get better access, to reach further, but it’s not enough. I need him begging for more.

  I move away and wipe my mouth. I look down at the small bead of precum glistening at the slit of my cock. As much as I want to impale him on it again, that’s not going to do, either. My stomach tenses in anticipation of something else. A specific appetite it won’t be deprived of that I can’t quite put my finger on.

  While Rus struggles through the quivers of pleasure overtaking his body, the pheromones he lets out must cloud my mind completely, because once my eyes land on my hands pressed against his glutes, it hits me.

  The image fills my head, rippling and intensifying, and there’s no way to erase it now. It has to happen.

  I don’t know why, but the why doesn’t even matter, does it? Why should it? Why should anything matter when it’s just him and me?

  I lick my lips, relishing the taste of him, before I come close again. I glide both of my index fingers in smoothly, thrusting in and out a few times before adding two more digits from each hand. Rus groans and tilts his ass in eager cooperation.

  “You like that, hm?”

  “Fuck, Wren… I l-love everything you— Ah!”

  I knead around Rus’s opening, spreading and massaging it gently. When he seems to have gotten comfortable, I remove my left hand and instead use four of my fingers from the right to push in, all the way to the knuckles. Going in until my palm sits flush with his perineum, I use it to rub into that delicate area while teasing my thumb near his entrance.

  What a perfect omega he is. So malleable. Ready for anything I can give him, his body completely surrenders to me and follows my lead. It makes my heart skip with excitement and adoration and pure, unfiltered joy.

  “Fuck! D-don’t stop!” He blurts out, his insides constricting violently around my hand. Panting with my mouth open, I stare at his cock as it twitches and squirts all over the sheets. The small, whiny, erotic sounds Russell creates burrow into my psyche, forever burned into my brain.

  I squeeze my shaft, fighting the urge to jerk off, knowing that with only a few strokes, I could follow him into that place of pure bliss.

  But…I’m not done yet.

  I rest my palm against his ass and wait a moment, giving him some time to collect himself. The sight of this strong man barely able to hold himself up on all fours is really something. I can’t help but smile when he looks at me over his shoulder, eyelids heavy with exhaustion and arousal.

  I hold his gaze with confidence. “Nearly all five of my fingers are inside of you right now.” The heat in his eyes flares. Clearly, he has plenty of fuel left. “Have you ever…done this before? The entire fist?” I ask in a tight voice, suddenly paralyzed by the mere idea of his rejection.

  He shakes his head but doesn’t look away. “I-I want you to do it, though,” he whispers. There’s no doubt, no fear.

  A jolt of relief pulses through my chest. “I want that, too. I want it very, very much.” As I speak, I gently press my thumb in and marvel at the ease with which he accepts me. “Tell me if it hurts, okay?”

  Even as Rus’s eyes fall shut and his breath hitches, he keeps yielding to me beautifully until the last knuckle slips in and my entire balled hand is inside him.

  “I wish you could see this, Rus,” I breathe, barely able to restrain myself from going all in straight away. Instead, I make small, careful movements, twisting my arm in a corkscrew motion rather than just pushing in and out.

  When I reach a little further and down toward his belly, Rus moans out my name, his head falling between his shoulders with a jolt.

  “That’s it. That’s the sweet spot, huh?” I ask with a satisfied grin and rub against it again. I will remember the desperate sounds he makes for the rest of my life. I’m sure of it. “You like that? Tell me how it feels, baby.”

  The word slips out of me without a thought. I used to call Felix that when we made love. You don’t just call people that unless they are important to you, but it feels…right at this moment.

  I can’t think straight anymore, anyway. Rus seems barely capable of thinking, too. He mutters something before crying out again and adjusting his hips against me.

  “The stretch’s so…so… I feel like I’m gonna b-burst. Fuck,” he whimpers, voice trembling, limbs trembling, his entire body almost vibrating with pleasure. His words boom in my ears, echoing.

  “Do it, sweetheart. Go on. Let it out for me,” I urge him. My own point of no return is quickly approaching no matter how hard I try to delay it, but before I do, I’ll make sure to give him the best damn prostate orgasm of his life.

  I keep thrusting in harder and faster, my wrist hugged tightly by his ring of muscle, and target that sensitive place inside with as much focus and care as I can muster.

  “Come for me,” I moan out desperately, tears of joy pushing into my eyes. I feel him getting close just by how insanely potent his pheromones are, consuming me in the most delicious way.

  “Wren! Wren, I’m…”

  “Me too. That’s it. Ugh, that’s it. Let it out for me.”

  My mind goes completely blank. There’s nothing but the pulsing, otherworldly ecstasy rushing through, ripping us apart only to blur us back together as my orgasm fuels his and Rus’s mine.

  It feels like minutes of uninterrupted, solid, incomprehensible euphoria before I come to my senses with my cock in my hand, dripping cum and buzzing with a fading ticklish sensation. My other hand is still inside Rus, crushed by his contracting walls as he rides out his orgasm, too.

  I pull my fist out gently once he relaxes. Rus makes a sweet, choked-up little whimper when I do.

  Somehow, we end up lying next to each other again, and it probably isn’t until a few more minutes pass that we’re present enough to actually focus on each other.

  “That was…”

  “Incredible,” I mutter.

  Rus laughs tiredly. His blinks are slow. Dazed. “I never thought that would be somethin’ I’d do,” he notes, almost like he’s thinking out loud. “Never felt anythin’ so damn intense. It was good, just…fuck, I feel so empty now.”

  I smile, feeling nothing but warm satisfaction because he enjoyed it and I was the first to ever make him feel that way. I might not have been the ideal alpha in a lot of ways, but even Felix never could’ve argued that I didn’t care for his pleasure.

  “Does…your head hurt, too?” I ask as I rub my temples. “We need to open the windows before we both get sick from pheromone overexposure.”

  “Could also be us not drinking or eat—” Just as he’s about to say it, Russell’s stomach makes a comically loud rumbling sound.

  We pause before bursting into a fit of laughter. My muscles ache by the time we calm down.

  “Right. Should get some sustenance after all this physical exertion.”

  Rus might be used to that, but I’m definitely not. The pheromones can drive my body only for so long until they, like adrenaline, fade away and leave me the way I often feel immediately after my rut—exhausted and completely drained. Mentally and physically.

  I sigh, wishing we could stay in bed forever and be irresponsibly indulgent instead of being adults, but slowly sit up anyway. “We better shower first.”

  “Again,” Rus notes, flashing me a chastising glance.

  He just walked out of there when I woke up, didn't he? I offer an apologetic grimace. “Sorry.”

  That feels like a century ago now. My goodness, how long have we been messing around? What time is it?

  Rus winces when sitting up. “Don’t be. You’ve more than made it up to me,” he says. The playful expression on his face makes me feel a tad better about making him sore. I’m glad I didn’t actually hurt him. “Let’s hope there’s enough hot water. Could you put the stove on and start boilin’ some rice while I’m in there? I’ll be a spell.”

  Like a good little soldier, he’s already alert and kicking into gear.

  “Only if you promise you’ll sing for me as you cook.”

  He turns back with his brows raised, and even I have to admit that I’m surprised by how flirty my mood is. “Alrighty, then,” he says softly, that shy side of him peeking out, which only makes me want to pull him in bed with me again.

  What is this tender domestic bliss we’re acting out? What are we doing?

  I try not to think about that. To not let reality into this sweet little bubble.

  Not yet.

  I help Rus with the cooking. It is just a lazy mix of some chicken, rice, and various vegetables he has lying around. Still, it comes out smelling and looking absolutely delicious. We sit at the table together, wearing only our pants because it’s so damn hot. We both look out the window at the same time.

  “The storm is settling,” Rus notes in a low, almost melancholic tone.

  Something inside me shifts as I watch the white scenery. It is much more peaceful than before. And there’s hardly any snow falling now. “Yeah…”

  He opens his mouth to say something, but we’re startled by the magpie soaring above our heads, barely turning in the air before hitting the door and then flying back toward the fireplace.

  Absentmindedly, I rake my fork through the food in front of me. “The bird’s getting restless,” I say.

  “It has definitely improved. It probably wants to be outside.” Rus releases a quiet sigh, eyes fixed on the bird somewhere behind me. “It must have friends and family looking forward to seein’ it again. Birds have friends, right? We should be able to release it tomorrow. By the looks of it, the storm will’ve passed completely by then.”

  There it is.

  The expiration date for this cute little fairytale.

  The realization that I will have to return to my life in the city hits me, sending cold shivers down my back. I try to hide it by pressing my lips together and hanging my head down as if to focus on the food, but I feel Rus’s gaze on me. It makes me wonder if he’s thinking about the same thing.

  “It’ll take them a while to repair the phone lines and sort all the other stuff. Your car’s still stuck. I think the best course of action would be for me to go to one of the neighbors. This young couple livin’ not far from here has a satellite phone. The husband is really protective of his wife and their kid, so he’s got it for emergencies. I can use it to call in a tow truck.”

  Turns out Rus already has an entire plan worked out about how to get me out of here and everything.

  I shake my head at the stupid, childish disappointment I feel. Why? This is what I wanted, isn’t it? This is how it was always going to end. My life is out there.

  And it’s not like I can stay here. Not like I want to.

  “Okay,” I say with a nod and put a bite of food in my mouth. It has a bitter aftertaste.

  We eat in silence for a while, but I grow more and more uneasy the longer I sense Rus’s thoughtful eyes on me. It makes my stomach clench and my throat close up with each breath, so I nervously cough before glancing up at him.

  This isolated universe of care and tenderness will get shattered soon enough. So, for some reason, I feel an irrational urge to take advantage of the safety of it while I can.

  I’ve already trauma-dumped plenty to him, so what’s a little more?

  It’s probably because of how easy it feels to open up to Rus. And I know that once I leave, I won’t have that anymore.

  The words come out of my mouth without a second thought, quiet but firm. “A few months ago, my boyfriend of three years and I broke up. Guess you could say I broke up with him…after finding him with another alpha in our bed,” I mutter. Rus raises his brows sharply, but they quickly fall back down into that concerned, pained expression that looks so sweet on him. “His excuse was that he didn’t feel fulfilled as an omega in our relationship. That I wasn’t…alpha enough. Among other things. You can imagine what those were…”

  “I’m so sorry, Wren.”

  I close my eyes and shake my head, jaw tensing. “Then I got the news about my mother’s death. And I…”

  That horrible sensation wraps around me again, putting a wall between me and the words on my tongue. I frown, rubbing my forehead, before taking a deep, controlled breath. I want to keep talking. I want to. It’s something I have to do.

  Whisper. At least whisper. That works. Sometimes.

  Rus watches me, as patient as ever. I remind myself that I’m safe. That he is safe, and that somehow makes it a tiny bit easier.

  “I was happy at first. When I heard she was dead, I…I felt vindicated. For a little while, anyway.” Even though each word seems to take me ages to squeeze out, he waits. “But then, it turned into feeling…hollow. So hollow and horribly empty and…furious at myself for never getting justice. For letting her get away with it. All those years she spent living in peace while I struggled because of what she did. Even if she was sick in the head, even if she might’ve believed it wasn’t wrong, it…”

  My heart palpitates so much that I have to press my hand over my chest. I can’t handle looking at Rus right now, so I stare at the table between us.

  I fight—fight with myself, with my brain, my body—to keep talking, no matter how quiet. “I know turning to drugs was my choice. I did that. But…but…what she did will never go away, even when she’s not here, and I…I’ll never be okay.”

  Her death didn’t magically heal me or fix me. I knew it wouldn’t, but I still foolishly thought I would wake up one day and be—

  Startled at Rus’s touch, I finally meet his eyes again and feel something inside me release. His hand gently brushes over mine with a soft smile before he reaches out and pushes my hair behind my ear.

  “You will be okay, Wren.”

  I snort, wanting to face away, but he holds my cheek to stop me. People have said that to me before. I said that shit to myself, year after year, always hoping…

  “You will find peace. I know you will,” Rus says with a determination in his voice that makes my heart expand like a balloon. But that’s foolish. We’re strangers. “Just reach forward to it and it will come.”

  The day I tried to take those pills, all he got was a small taste of how pathetic I can be. He feels pity now, as any compassionate person would. A few more fuckups, a couple more ugly breakdowns, and he’d probably start feeling the same resentment and disgust Felix had.

  “Wren, listen to me,” Rus says, looking at me intensely. His hand moves down to hold mine again, squeezing it. “There were times after I returned from the service when I felt…different. Or like the world around me was. I couldn’t recognize it or myself, and couldn’t find that comfortable spot where I felt like I belonged. But nothing ever really changed. It all came down to how I perceived it.”

  Rus pauses with a quiet huff, as if he’s trying to think of something. Then his eyes flash with an idea, right before they become soft and tender again. He tilts his head slightly, smiling at me.

  “There was this guy in my unit, yeah? He always gave advice to everyone because he had gone through…a lot, but somehow always kept it together. ‘Remind yourself you’re not at war anymore,’ he’d say. ‘Stop and look around. Remind yourself that there’s no danger. Only a life to live. And life is exactly the way you decide to perceive it. You all have that choice.’ Some of the soldiers struggled just to be after coming back. They struggled hard to find a reason to keep goin’. And one time I heard him say something that really stuck with me, even though I never dealt with those thoughts myself. He said, ‘One needs a good reason to choose death, but to live doesn’t need any reason at all. That’s the beauty of it.’”

  Tears well up in my eyes. I suck in my lip, holding it between my teeth to hide the quiver.

  “I want to believe that,” I whisper, barely loud enough for him to hear. “I…I do.” But how could I, after the things I’ve seen and gone through? After having my face pressed into the grime of rock bottom, how could I ever be free of that stain?

  With a memory jolting through me, I screw my eyes shut, as if that’s going to make me stop seeing the image.

  “I-I saw him, you know? I…found him,” I blurt, nearly slurring my words because of how fast they come out. I need to get this out before my brain takes my voice away again. “M-my dad. When I was nine, I found him. He hu-hung himself in the attic.” My breathing slips out of control when I say that. Even as Rus squeezes me tighter and makes a gentle ‘shhhh,’ the pain and fear slosh through me.

  That was the first crack, I think. The opening blow.

  After that, it all just kept getting worse and worse. It was only a matter of time before I would shatter.

  “I’ll never know why he did it,” I whimper into his warm embrace. It makes me feel so safe, the safest I’ve felt in forever, that I somehow have the courage to voice thoughts I never imagined would leave my mouth. “But I’ve always wondered if I’ll end up the same. Al-always felt l-like I was bound to.”

  The same questions come to me over and over and over again… Was it because of her? Was she a monster from the start? Did he know? Or was he just sick and tired and didn’t see a way out?