Noelle's omega instincts flare, betraying him. He loves this—being claimed, consumed, and utterly overwhelmed by his alpha. The intensity leaves him light-headed, but every nerve in his body is alive, humming with sensation. Thorne isn't just claiming his body; he's dominating his very essence. And despite himself, Noelle revels in the rawness of it.
"You're mine, Noelle," Thorne growls, his voice dripping with possessiveness. His sharp blue eyes lock on Noelle's tear-streaked face, filled with equal parts devotion and primal need.
Thorne collapsed atop Noelle, his body heavy but comforting as he pressed gentle kisses into the crook of his neck. After a few moments, he shifted to the side, careful not to crush his lover beneath his weight. The room was filled with the sound of their labored breathing, the warmth of their shared intimacy lingering in the still air.
