Bound to Her Touch

"Are you going to scream again?" a rough voice asked.

I blinked against the glaring lights of the secluded recovery villa. The sterile walls offered no comfort. The necrosis in my neck throbbed, a relentless drumbeat of agony. Betrayal still tasted like ash on my tongue.

The heavy door clicked shut.

A man stood at the foot of the bed. Julian. He wore a long black cashmere coat. A sleek titanium cane supported his weight, hiding the rigid stiffness of his prosthetic left leg. His face was ghostly pale.

"Julian?" I rasped, my throat raw from tearing the mark.

I pushed myself up, ignoring the agonizing burn in my nape. I stumbled forward, my arms reaching for him. I needed the comfort of an old friend. I needed an anchor.

He stepped back. The rubber tip of his cane squeaked against the hardwood.

"Keep your distance," he ordered.

"You came back," I whispered, my fingers grasping empty air.

"I was bought," Julian replied. His tone held zero warmth. "I am here to clear the toxic residue your ex left in your veins. Nothing more."

"I didn't buy you," I argued, my voice shaking. "My father did."

"The money spends the same," he shot back.

"Don't look at me like that. Like I'm a stranger."

"We are strangers, Eva. The boy you knew is dead."

"I'm dying," I choked out, a fresh wave of pain hitting me.

"And I am the tool hired to fix it," he said flatly. "Lie down."

"Julian, please," I begged, the pain in my neck flaring into a blinding white heat.

"Do not touch me," he warned, adjusting his grip on the cane.

A violent spasm ripped through my spine. My knees buckled.

"Eva!" Julian yelled.

My Alpha gland ruptured. A massive shockwave of crushed fir and freezing rainstorm pheromones exploded from my skin.

The sheer force of it hit Julian like a freight train. His cane skittered across the floor. He crashed onto the cold tiles, his heavy coat pooling around him.

"Fuck," he grunted, struggling to push up on his elbows.

I crawled over him, a starving beast. The 99.9 percent match overrode my dying brain. Every rational thought vanished.

"Julian," I growled, pinning his shoulders down.

His body reacted instantly. Thick, suffocating waves of white tea and wild honey poured out of him. The sweet Omega scent coated the back of my throat. It drove me insane.

I grabbed the lapels of his black coat and shoved it off his shoulders. I gripped the collar of his black dress shirt and ripped it down the middle.

Fabric tore. Buttons popped, scattering like hail across the tiles.

"Fuck, Eva, stop," he choked out, his hands grabbing my wrists.

I ignored him. His chest was laid bare. Massive, bronze pectoral muscles flexed under my hands. A tight, deeply carved eight-pack contracted violently as he gasped for air. Sweat instantly beaded on his skin.

"You smell too fucking good," I snarled.

His skin was blazing hot beneath my palms. I traced the hard lines of his chest, feeling the rapid, frantic thumping of his heart.

I buried my face into his long, pale neck. The tendons stood out, thick and rigid. I opened my mouth and clamped my teeth over his pulse point. I sucked hard, drawing the intoxicating honey scent straight from his pores.

Julian let out a ragged groan. His hands flew up, gripping my hair, but he didn't push me away. He couldn't.

"Fuck... you're biting too hard," he rasped, his voice breaking.

"I need more," I demanded, dragging my tongue up the side of his jaw. "Give it to me, Julian."

His hips jerked upward against my thighs. The biological pull was absolute. His eyes turned bloodshot, wide and glassy.

"Take it," he panted. "Fucking take it."

His massive chest heaved. Every breath he took was shallow, frantic. The friction of our bodies generated a blistering heat.

I ground my hips down into his.

Julian whimpered. His thick thighs trembled uncontrollably against the cold floor. The rigid brace on his left leg clanked against the tiles, but he didn't care.

A heavy, slick wetness began to soak through the front of his trousers. The sweet, cloying scent of Omega fluid filled the air, thick and desperate. He was leaking for me.

"You're soaking wet," I taunted, licking the sweat off his collarbone.

"Shut up," he hissed. His fingers dug into my scalp, his nails scratching my skin. "Just finish the extraction."

I sucked harder on his neck, bruising the pale flesh, inhaling the white tea and honey until it drowned out the necrosis in my own veins. The searing pain in my gland began to cool.

The frenzy broke. The fever in my blood finally stabilized.

I pulled back, gasping for air.

Julian lay completely limp on the tiles. His chest rose and fell in jagged spasms. His lips were swollen and a deep, scarlet red. Sweat plastered his dark hair to his forehead.

He looked utterly wrecked. Beautiful and ruined.

I stared at him, a sudden wave of guilt piercing the haze. I reached out to touch his cheek.

He slapped my hand away.

Julian rolled onto his side, dragging himself up. He grabbed his titanium cane, his knuckles stark white.

He didn't look at me as he pulled the torn edges of his shirt together. He fumbled with the remaining buttons, his thick fingers shaking.

"Julian, I'm sorry," I said.

He paused. His dark eyes snapped up to meet mine. The vulnerability vanished, replaced by a wall of ice.

He leaned down, his face inches from mine.

"Don't look at me with those pitiful eyes, Eva," he said, his voice dropping to a harsh, gravelly whisper. "My body isn't as soft as you think."

He turned his back on me, grabbing his coat from the floor.

He limped toward the heavy oak door.

"Where are you going?" I asked, pushing myself onto my knees. "The contract says you stay until I'm fully healed."

Julian stopped, his hand resting on the brass knob.

"I'm going to see him," he answered without looking back.

"Who?"

"The Alpha who broke you."

The door swung open, revealing the dark hallway.

"Dominic will kill you," I warned.

Julian let out a low, dark chuckle. "Let him try."

He stepped out, and the door slammed shut.