Eighty-Six

Miles and I have been together a few times now and I thought I knew what I was getting myself into, but Micca is an Omega. He is engineered by centuries of werewolf breeding genetics specifically for this. I once read that those who have Omega mates, their mates somehow know exactly what they need and for a while now, I've been asking myself what it is he thinks I need. I can tell it terrifies him and from what I've seen in his mind, I probably should be too. 

His arm wraps around me as he stands taking all my weight to lift me off the floor without breaking our kiss. I suddenly feel like we're falling and my back is hitting the softness of the bed. I gasp for air when he pulls away scraping his teeth over my cheek and down my neck. He growls canines extended, eyes pitch black, and his body is turning. He's fighting his urge to shift, just barely, but the pain seems to be keeping him grounded. 

His tongue is attentive to my wounds. He's slowly lapping at th