Track 16 Someone I Care About

The ride to the restaurant is quiet. Liam and Sorrel sit in the back seat together. Sorrel cuddled into his side as he pumps out soothing pheromones to help calm her nerves. Gray and I are in the car's front seat, alpha instincts on high alert.

Anytime we go out with Liam, we're like this. He's the most famous omega in the world and it's too fucking easy for people to think because they know his face, his name, have seen his movies, that they know him . That they can be as friendly as they want with him, as demanding of his time as they deem necessary.

It's not fucking true, but it doesn't stop them from thinking it. Usually Liam's pretty good at giving them a smile and a wave, taking a picture with them, and then easing them on their way.

This time is different, though. One little beta, who seems terrified of the crowds of his fans, has ratcheted up our instincts to inhuman levels. I know it. Gray knows it. Liam knows it. I'm pretty sure the only one who doesn't know it is Sorrel.

Just like she doesn't know that we've brought four guards with us, following in a black SUV behind us. There are already two more at the restaurant, scoping it out and making sure it's safe and private, like we requested. It should be, though. No one knows where we're going, except for the people in this car, our security detail, and Joey.

Still, I let out a breath when we round the corner and see only the normal amount of foot traffic in front of the restaurant. No crowds of fans, no paparazzi. Even seeing that, we're still going to take a back entrance rather than the front door. I turn down a side alley and pull to a stop next to a door. Jones, one of our guards, is standing outside it. I step from the car as he opens the back door for Liam and Sorrel.

By the time I round the car to them, Gray is helping Sorrel out of the back seat. His fingers curled around hers tightly. Too tightly for how this evening is going so far. He's thrumming with nerves on his side of our pack bond. But I don't say anything to him. Not right now. Instead, I look at Jones. "Everything look good?"

He nods once. "Yes sir. The restaurant is clear, we checked the IDs of everyone present, customers and staff. They all checked out." I nod my understanding and appreciation, but he hesitates.

"What is it?"

Jones sighs, pulling his phone out of his pocket and tapping on the screen. "Poppy just found this." My stomach clenches with nerves. Poppy is our IT person… though she prefers to be called a hacker. She basically monitors the web for us, finding all mentions of our pack, and occasionally breaks into systems we can't get into the normal way.

Jones flips the screen around and I curse quietly. It's a picture of Gray and Sorrel in the back seat of the car. Her face is tucked into his chest and hidden, but it's unmistakably her. Worse, there's a second picture from inside the parking garage, one of the security camera feeds, showing her entire face.

I skim the article, which is mostly speculating over who she is and what she means to us. Though they make a dig about her shorts and t-shirt combo. Apparently, it's not fancy enough for being with us. I roll my eyes and pass the cell back to Jones.

"She's getting the article taken down. The photos, at least. And we're looking into how that photo was leaked. So far, we've found nothing."

"Good," I say, watching as Gray, Liam and Sorrel disappear into the restaurant. My team is good, and I know they'll do what it takes to find whoever hacked our own fucking security feeds. "Have Poppy monitor things. Specifically, anything to do with Sorrel. She's not ready to be exposed like that."

"Will do." His lips tighten and I get the impression he wants to say something, probably about how it's stupid of us to bring her to one of the most popular restaurants in the city, if we don't want her picture splashed all over the internet.

He's not fucking wrong, but Liam was determined to bring her here, to make her see it can be fucking good being with us. Sorrel adores food, and this is some of the best in the city.

"Let me know if anything happens," I say, clapping him on the shoulder before hurrying after my pack.

By the time I catch up to them, they're already settling around our table. It's in the back, in a private room, away from prying eyes and curious stares.

Though in order to get to the table, we have to go through the restaurant. Still, most everyone seems involved in their own meals and I don't see more than three people look up as I pass by.

Gray is pushing in Sorrel's chair for her as she looks around the elegant room with wide eyes.

"This is so fancy," she murmurs, almost to herself. Our prime kisses her shoulder as he settles, taking a deep breath of her skin before he straightens and runs a hand down the back of her head, being careful not to mess up her hairdo. She looks up at him with a smile as Liam settles into the seat next to her, his hand sliding onto her thigh under her skirt.

If she cares, she doesn't say anything, picking up the menu and scanning over it, before snapping it shut with her eyes wide and her cheeks pale. It's almost comical how startled she looks.

"What's up, conejita ?" I ask, taking the spot closest to the door, putting myself between my pack and anyone who enters. It's not ideal to have it at my back, but I'd rather it be me than any of them.

She shakes her head and reaches for her wineglass of water, taking a sip. "It's nothing. Just… nothing."

"Tell us," Gray orders.

Sorrel's shoulders slump and her lower lip pushes out into a pout. "There are no prices on the menu and everything's in French."

"Ah," Gray says, nodding and draping his napkin over his lap. I smile when Sorrel mimics him. "Well, I'd be happy to answer any questions you have about the menu, or I can just order for you. Everything here is delicious, so you won't be disappointed. And as to the prices… don't worry about it. We're paying and we can afford anything you feel the urge to get."

Sorrel's brow furrows as she bites her lip. "It's one of those, if you have to ask for the price you can't afford it things, isn't it?" She sounds weirdly sad about that. Like maybe this fancy ass restaurant is just making clear the differences between us. I'm sure she's never been to a restaurant without prices before. It's an adjustment, for sure, to just order what you want and not worry about it. It took me a while to get used to it, too.

I make a mental note to check with Liam about the rest of his plans for her stay, to make sure there are some low key things, like that food truck with the delicious tacos in the park. Yeah, Sorrel's the type of girl that would appreciate street meat and a lazy afternoon basking in the sun.

Of course, being in the park means being exposed. Anyone could walk by and see us. Which she might not be ready for. We'll have to play it by ear.

"It's okay, lovely," Liam murmurs, tipping over to kiss her temple, her cheekbone, her nose, peppering her until she giggles and pushes him away. "You'll get used to letting us take care of you."

Our girl ducks her chin and nods, a pretty flush spreading over her cheeks as she does so. "Maybe." she agrees, but she doesn't sound convinced.

Sorrel's taking too long in the restroom.

She relaxed in increments over dinner. Mostly, I think because of the food and the exceptional bottle of wine Gray ordered. Every bite that passed her lips was greeted with a roll of her eyes and a moan that had my dick hard the first time she made it, and ache like a motherfucker every time after.

Throughout the appetizers, the salad, the main course, she moaned and licked her lips and wiggled in her chair when a particularly good morsel of food entered her mouth and it's taken every ounce of my self-control not to throw myself over the table to bend her over and fuck her right here.

But holy Jesus, a man can only take so much.

Liam seemed to think the same because not long after our server took our dessert order, Sorrel practically leapt out of her chair, face flushed red, mouth opened in a pant, to stutter out that she needed to use the restroom.

Gray arched a brow at our omega, who shrugged. "I got curious if she was as turned on as the rest of us." He lifted his fingers, sucked them clean right there at the table, groaning. "She absolutely was."

So he'd tried to finger her in public and she'd run away to avoid it. Apparently, Ferris wheels were a go, but not private rooms in restaurants. We're learning so much about her already.

Still, she's been gone a while. I imagine it taking a bit to calm her libido, but surely she should be back by now.

A sense of foreboding trickles down my spine as I look in the direction she went yet again. "It shouldn't take her this long, right?" I ask Gray and Liam.

Liam waves a hand. "She's a girl. They do primping and stuff."

Gray meets my eyes, my worry reflected in his. "But this is Sorrel we're talking about. She doesn't…"

Fuck. I push to my feet and practically run toward the back of the restaurant, drawing curious gazes as I do. I don't give a fuck, though. Even if she's totally fine and is reapplying her lipstick or whatever, I won't be able to settle until I lay eyes on her, until I see for myself that she is, in fact, okay. Healthy. Whole. Safe.

Gray and Liam must feel the same because they're right on my heels as I rush down the back hallway, drawing to a stop outside the Ladies. The three of us stare hard at the door.

"We can't just go in, right?" Liam says, sounding and smelling anxious. It only serves to work my alpha up more. Protect. Protect. Protect.

I glance back at the restaurant, then mutter, "fuck it," before pushing through the door. Only to find it empty. I check each of the stalls to be sure, but there's nothing.

Gray arches his brow in question, to which I shake my head. "She's not fucking in there."

Without a word, Liam starts down the hall away from the other diners. It makes sense. We would have seen her reenter the restaurant from our table, and I was definitely watching. I'm always watching for her, if I'm honest.

A low whimper reaches my ears over the ambient din in the restaurant. Unmistakably female. Unmistakably my beta. Sorrel.

We race down the hall, turn a corner and there she is, cowering in a corner. Her pretty teal sundress is torn over one shoulder, her hair slipping from the updo she put it in at the beginning of the night. There are tears on her cheeks and bruises forming on her tan skin. I can make out the dark blotches from six feet away.

My furious gaze travels to the figure standing over her, and a jolt hits when I recognize him. Our fault . The bruises on her skin, the torn dress, the tears on her cheeks are all our fault.

"Patrick," Gray's voice snaps out, furious.

The man, the beta, we dated recently whips his head toward us, a grin on his face, even as his fingers tighten on Sorrel's wrist so much that she whimpers.

The need to do something, to protect her, to beat this fucker to the ground flows through me, but he has a hold of my girl with one hand and a knife in the other. And I am not taking the chance with her fucking life. Ever.

Gray must come to the same conclusion, because when he speaks next, his voice is warmer. "There you are," he says, like we've been looking for the psycho holding our girl hostage. "We were wondering where you got to."

Sorrel watches us with wide eyes while Liam lets out a whine that has my alpha gnashing his teeth. Gray holds out a hand. "Why don't you come with me so we can talk? We've missed you."

"Missed me?" Patrick says, sounding sort of dreamy, detached. Drugged , I realize. He's high as a fucking kite. It's part of the reason we broke things off with him. He was too volatile and too enamored with the easy access to hard drugs at the parties we brought him to. "You didn't seem to miss me when you were kissing her ."

I hold out my hand like Gray is and flash an apologetic look at Sorrel. "You know how it is, Patrick. We have to put on a show for the cameras."

He glances over at Sorrel, still trembling against the wall. "So who is she then? Some ingenue the production company wants to turn into a big star." He turns his back on us and sneers down at our girl. "You suck Gray's dad's cock to get here, you little slut? You spread yourself wide on the casting couch to get a chance to steal my pack?"

"No," Sorrel whimpers. "No, I wouldn't do that."

It probably would have been better if she'd lied, if she'd agreed with him.

He sneers and brandishes the knife in her face. "Sure, I totally believe that. Why else would they be with someone like you in your Target dress and unstyled hair? The only thing you have to offer is your fucking cunt."

Sorrel closes her eyes and I have the distinct impression that the madman threatening her just landed a direct blow, echoing all of her fears about being with us. I make a mental note to address that with her later, but now is definitely not the time to refute his claim.

It'll only make him angrier, and that is the last thing we need.

Movement at the corner of my eye draws my attention to Liam as he moves down the hall, his steps sure and steady, one of his hands stretched out. He's pumping out soothing pheromones, filling the hall with them, trying to get everyone to calm down.

How he's managing that when there's a knife pointed at Sorrel, I have no clue, but I couldn't be prouder of him. "It's okay, Patrick," he murmurs. "We were just having dinner with her. But she's-she's nothing to us."

My heart clenches as Sorrel's eyes slip closed, absorbing his words. A single tear slides down her cheek as she takes a deep breath in. I don't know if Liam's pheromones are doing their job or what, but she sags slightly against the wall, her breaths coming easier.

"Liam," she whispers, worry clear in her tone. "Don't."

"It's okay," he murmurs, shifting closer. "Everything's going to be okay, yeah?" Sorrel looks at me and I can read the question in her eyes: are you going to stop him? Your omega is putting himself at risk. Stop him.

I shake my head and her pretty aqua eyes narrow at me. I ignore her and keep my attention on the knife in Patrick's hand, watching the erratic movements, flinching when it comes close to Sorrel's skin.

Next to me, Gray is just as tense as I am. "Come on, Patrick," he urges. "You don't need her. You need us. Isn't that right?"

Patrick nods. "I do. I do need you. You just… you just left me. Used me up and spit me out when you didn't want me anymore." He turns to look at Sorrel, his tone urgent, the knife getting far too close to her collarbone, the swell of flesh just under it. "They'll do the same to you. They do it to everyone. No one is good enough for them. You have to be fucking perfect or they won't want you anymore."

Sorrel blinks at him, her lips parting in shock and there's a flash of understanding in her eyes, but worse… there's a flash of acceptance . Like what he says is true. We're going to tire of her. If she makes one mistake, we'll toss her to the curb, cut her off.

She nods slowly. "I-I understand. They hurt you, didn't they?"

He nods emphatically, all his attention on her now, unaware of Liam creeping closer, Gray and I doing the same, though farther down the hall, not wanting to get too close and risk our beta. "They did. So much. One little mistake, that's all. It was one mistake, and they dropped me, cut me off."

It was hardly a little mistake. He got high at a movie premier and started a fight with the director, and then tried to fuck his wife, because, and I quote, ‘there were too many dicks in the Cordova pack and not enough pussy.' We're lucky it happened in a relatively private part of the party and we were able to keep it out of the media.

Sorrel nods, though, like she understands what he's gone through. "I get it. I'm-I know they're going to do the same to me. It's only a matter of time, right? I mean, look at me and look at you. If they didn't keep someone like you, they would never-" She chokes a little on the words but forces them past her trembling lips. "They'll never actually want to keep me."

Lies. Lies. Lies. All I want to do is keep her. Lock her in our penthouse and make sure she's fucking safe. Make sure nothing like this will ever happen again. The need to do that is staggering. That I have three people I feel the need to protect, to claim, to keep safe. Gray and Liam and Sorrel. Even Gage has worked his way into that group.

Fuck. Gage. He's going to be so fucking pissed we let this happen.

Patrick leans forward, getting closer to her, presses his face into hers, and Sorrel lets him. "That's right," he hisses at her, keeping his eyes on her. "They'll never want to keep you."

That's when Liam moves. He lunges closer, hand curling around Patrick's wrist and twisting, keeping the knife well away from our girl's skin. Patrick cries out, his knees bending as he tries to keep Liam from breaking his wrist.

Sorrel slides down the wall and ducks around the two fighting males, running right to me, like she believes I can keep her safe. And I will. Fuck, I will. My arms close around her tight, her shaking fingers gripping my shirt tight, as my hand finds the back of her head, holding her against me, keeping her from seeing what Liam is doing while Gray watches.

Patrick is on the ground now, his knife discarded as Liam stands over him, one hand in the beta male's hair, holding him in place.

"Don't. Ever. Fucking. Touch. My. Beta!" Liam shouts at him, his fist slamming down on Patrick's face with each word. The man we once dated whimpers and falls to the floor when my omega lets him go, curling into himself as Liam continues his assault. I've never seen him like this. Not even with the Stillwell pack, but then, I guess he didn't see Steven Stillwell threatening Sorrel. He only witnessed the aftermath, the burns on her skin and the way she tried to play it off like it wasn't a big deal.

The burnt scent rippling off my omega, anger and fear and viciousness, bleeds down the hall and reaches me. Makes my alpha roar to do something, anything that will soothe both him and the girl in my arms. Gray's jaw ticks with the same need, but both of us stay as we are, letting Liam work this out. It will be the only thing that helps him.

Sorrel's fingers tighten reflexively when his scent reaches her through the fabric of my shirt, a harsh whine coming from her throat that has me trying to get her closer to me.

"Shh, conejita , baby," I murmur into her hair. "I've got you. We've got you. You're safe."

She lets out a shuddering breath and presses into me, arms tightening around my waist, face buried in my chest. One of my hands cups the back of her head, holding her in place, telling her with touch that she's safe.

After a moment, she lifts her head and looks first at me with wet eyes that break my heart and then over at Liam, who's still standing over Patrick breathing heavy, knuckle split and bloody.

A distressed noise sounds from her, one that pulls Liam's attention off the beta at his feet and to the one in my arms. "Liam," she breathes so quietly I hardly hear her, but he must recognize the shape of his name on her lips, because he lurches toward us, one hand stretched out to touch her face. He stops inches from her skin, though, fingers curling as he sees the blood on them.

He tucks his hands behind his back and nuzzles into her hair, her neck, taking deep inhales of her faint lavender scent. Gray watches us, though he stays near the man still on the floor, muttering to himself.

"We need to get her out of here," he says, hands already reaching for his cell phone. "Where the fuck are the guards?"

"Where are they indeed?" I shake my head as rage filters through me. They never should have let this happen, let a psycho get this close to her. I shouldn't have let it happen. I should have trusted my instincts that something wasn't right sooner.

His phone buzzes in his hand and my prime's brows arch, before he swears viciously, his anger making Sorrel shiver in my arms. Liam kisses her temple as I pull her closer.

"The fucking paparazzi are outside," Gray spits. At that, our beta jerks in my arms, head shooting up, aqua eyes wide.

"What? They can't see me like this. They'll… they'll tear me apart." She's not fucking wrong and don't I hate that? I've never resented our fame before, not really. Liam, Gray and I are adept at handling it. Gray and Liam were raised in the spotlight, and I'm a scary enough motherfucker that no one dares say anything about me, but Sorrel? She's all sweetness and light, and for some fucking reason, people hate that in a woman. They want to dirty her up a bit. Tear her down.

Gray nods slowly, "They won't, sweet thing. We'll get you out safe and sound." He frowns as he says that, guilt flickering across his face as he realizes we won't do that, because she's already fucking hurt. He looks at me. "Apparently, Jones and the others caught wind of the crowd forming outside and went to get them to leave."

My jaw tightens. It's no fucking excuse. They should have informed me of the problem outside and then let me decide how to handle it. They never should have taken their fucking eyes off our girl. You shouldn't have either.

Liam leaves us to duck back down the hall toward the restaurant, then comes back shaking his head. "It's a shit show out there."

If he's saying that, then it must be bad. Really fucking bad.

"Fuck," Gray curses. His gaze flicks to Sorrel, cowering against my chest, face buried in my shirt, and then back to me. "Rafe, get her out of here."

I know I should argue. My job is to keep Liam and Gray safe. That's the entire point of my being in the pack, to act as their bodyguard, a shield between them and anyone who might want to hurt them. But I'll be that for Sorrel too. And right now this crowd is here because of her, wanting to see who she is, to get a picture of her face to post it online and have people tear her apart, spout off all the reasons she's not good enough for America's sweetheart omega and his pack.

I say fuck them. I want the world to know that Sorrel is ours, our beta, ours to protect, that we'll do whatever we need to do to keep her happy and healthy and safe, but the way she's trembling in my arms right now tells me it's not the time or the place to make that declaration.

But it will be soon.

Fuck, I hope it will be soon.

"We'll be fine," Liam reassures me, even though his scent is sharp with sour lemon. "We'll go out and give them something. Plus, the cops will be here soon enough to deal with this piece of trash. The team will be enough to keep us safe."

Damn right they will. I trained the security team myself, but it doesn't mean I want to leave my pack members.

"Rafe," Gray hardens his voice into a command. "Go."

I give a jerky nod to my prime alpha and scoop my beta into my arms. She lets out a whimper of pain that has me worried she's hurt more than she's let on. "I'm fine," she whispers when all three of us growl. "I promise, I'm fine. I just want to go." She looks up at me with watery aqua eyes. "Please, can we go?"

I press a kiss to her forehead and nod. "Of course, conejita . We're going."

"Car's waiting in the alley," Jones says, quietly so no one else will hear. I pin him with a hard look.

"Where the fuck were you?"

His jaw ticks, and he drops his gaze. No answer is forthcoming. No excuse. He knows he fucked up. We all did.

"Rafe, it's okay," my girl whispers. "Please. I want to…"

"I know," I say, hefting her higher against my chest so I can kiss her forehead. "I know. We're going."

Gray steps up next to us and presses a tender kiss to her forehead, cupping her cheek softly. I catch the darkening in his eyes when he takes in the bruise forming on her face in the unmistakable shape of a handprint. A low growl rumbles out of him as he spins away, strides over to Patrick, draws back his three thousand dollar loafer and kicks him in the stomach.

"Gray!" Sorrel's protests. And it is a protest.

She's too soft, too sweet, to want us to take pity on the man who held her at knifepoint, who threatened to take her from us in a very permanent way. I'm not sure she fully understands how alpha instincts work, but she'll figure it out in time, get used to our overprotective ways and the need to hurt anyone who hurts her.

Gray pins her with an unimpressed look that she meets with one of her own. "I think he's been hurt enough," she mumbles.

Liam barks out an unamused laugh. "Not nearly enough, lovely. But he will be."

I bundle Sorrel out of the restaurant and into the waiting car. It's a nightmare setting her into the seat, not keeping her in my arms, but I have to leave the rest of the team with Gray and Liam, so I have to be the one to drive us away from the veritable shit show our first date with our girl turned out to be.

As soon as I'm in the driver's seat, my hand seeks her thigh of its own accord, gripping it through the silky fabric of her dress, thumb stroking back and forth to soothe her.

She's quiet the whole way, staring out the window, her lip caught between her teeth. She's so fucking beautiful it makes my heart ache. Even with tears on her cheeks and her makeup smeared, she's the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on.

When we make it back to the pack house, I ignore her protests and sweep her into my arms, carrying her up the stairs straight into the en suite of her room. The one I hope will be hers for the rest of our lives, though we mostly sleep in Liam's nest as a pack.

Once she's steady on her feet, I leave her to clean up, retreating to dig through her suitcase to find her comfiest clothing, only to change my mind and head to our rooms, collecting clothing that smells like us, like pack. One of Liam's oldest t-shirts, a pair of Gray's boxer briefs, one of my zip up hoodies.

She steps out of the bathroom, freshly scrubbed and smelling like steam and soap, wearing nothing but a towel and eyes the pile of clothes I'm holding. "I thought you might like… When Liam's upset, he likes to wear our clothes, I thought you might like the same thing?"

She bites her lips again, a pretty flush spreading over her cheeks as she nods. "I'd like that."

My cock throbs and I have to tell it to calm the fuck down, because our girl is traumatized and the last thing she needs is me trying my damnedest to have sex with her. I clear my throat and drop the clothing on the bed. "Good, I'll just go change while you get dressed."

I hightail it out of there, with the image of all that tan skin, every inch of her body playing in my head. Fuck. Fuck. Maybe I have time to jerk myself off before she needs me.

I discard that thought as soon as I have it. I don't want to risk her being dressed before I am and wandering around to find me, only to see me with my cock in my hands.

Although the idea of her eyes on me while I pleasured myself to thoughts of her? Yeah, that does nothing to help my raging erection.

I'm dressed and sitting on the couch staring blindly at the TV when she pads into the living room, looking like a wet dream in my pack's clothes. Her hair is loose and damp, hanging down to her waist in wild waves, that I know will only get wilder as they dry.

She hesitates a few feet from me, eyeing the space on the couch next to me, before she meets my eyes. I open my arms in invitation, and with a relieved little huff, she rushes over and settles onto my lap sideways with her ear pressed over my heart.

"Is it weird?" she murmurs into my chest. "That I understand him? That I get where he's coming from?"

I hug her tighter, my fingers slipping under the hem of Liam's shirt to stroke her skin, soothe her. "You aren't a pack you just get over, Rafe," she says. "Being the center of your attention and then having it ripped away? I get why he'd be so angry, so desperate to get back to you."

My lips brush the top of her head. "But you would never hurt someone to get want you want, would you, conejita ?"

"No. I wouldn't threaten someone else, even if it meant I could keep you." She shakes her head. "I'd like to think I would handle it with a little more grace than he did."

"Well, we'll never have to find out," I promise her. "We're keeping you."

Her head tips up, aqua eyes wide as she looks at me, scanning my face for some sign that I'm not being truthful, that I'm lying. She won't find it.

I want to keep her, know that we will, because I honestly can't imagine life without her, Can't imagine going back to the time before her lovely, sweet smiles, and gentle nature. I'm more than a little concerned that she's still having these sorts of thoughts about us, about how we feel about her, but it's not something I can address solely on my own. We need to prove it to her as a pack.

But surely there's something I can do to help her now. To show her how I feel about her.

My girl's eyes widen slightly as I lift her, shifting her so she's straddling my lap, facing toward me. Her little hands come to a rest on my chest as she eyes me wearily. Like she's not sure where this is going.

Silly little beta.

Surely she knows how much we want her. Crave her.

My fingers brush over her upper arms and the bruises forming there, up to her neck and her cheek, where I'd been worried that she would bruise. But the mark from Patrick's hand seems to be fading. Doesn't change the fact that none of that should have happened to her.

My fault.

" Lo siento, conejita ," I say softly, brushing the tip of my finger over her full mouth. "So fucking sorry. He never should have gotten that close to you. Mi culpa ."

She shakes her head. "It's not your fault."

I hum my disagreement. It's entirely my fault. My job is to keep my pack safe, and I failed.

"Rafe," she says, voice firmer. "Look at me."

I lift my gaze from where I'd been staring at her mouth and meet her eyes. Her hands slide up to cup my jaw and I nuzzle into her palms, unable to resist the softness of her skin. "I'm fine. I'm safe. You got to me before he could do anything. It was… It was only a couple of minutes. I promise I'm fine."

When I shake my head, her fingers tighten, stopping the motion. "I'm fine, Rafe." She reassures me before bending and pressing her mouth to mine, taking my lips in a kiss that lights me up inside.

It shouldn't be surprising. Every time I kiss Sorrel, even that first barest brush of my mouth on hers has felt like someone lighting a flare in my chest. Igniting my blood and making it difficult to think of anything beyond getting inside this girl.

When I moan, she presses closer, arms winding around my shoulders, her soft tits pressing into my chest as I pull her to me. One of my hands presses between her shoulder blades, the other goes to her low back, her hip. Urging her to roll against my cock, which has been half hard this entire time, and is now at full mast. She whimpers at the first grinding motion, fingers tightening where they grip my flesh.

My hand on her hip urges the movement again, and this time I thrust up, meeting her. Her mouth pulls from mine so she can suck in a gasp of air. "Oh, fuck," she moans.

"Oh, fuck is right."

She kisses me again, working her hips over my length. The feeling is so good I see stars exploding behind my eyes and I haven't even come. "Rafe," she murmurs, against my mouth. "Will you-"

She doesn't finish and buries her head against my shoulder, pressing hot open mouth kisses against my neck. I swallow thickly. "Will I what, conejita ?"

She doesn't lift her head and so when she speaks, I feel it against my skin. It reverberates all the way through me into my very bones, takes root. I'll never remove the memory of Sorrel Forbes murmuring to me, "Will you touch me?"

My fingers tighten on her, reflexively. "I am."

A shuddering breath and another roll of her hips. "Will you fuck me?"

My fingers tangle in her wild wavy hair and pull her back so I can look up at her, gauge her expression to figure out if she means it. "You sure?"

She nods as best as she can with my fist in her strands. "Yes. I want to feel something good after what happened earlier."

I can't help the smug smirk that pulls at my lips. "And you think I can do that for you?"

Her head tilts, gaze narrowed. "If you aren't up for the task, I suppose I can wait for Liam and Gray to get home. Or I can call Gage. He certainly made-"

I cut her off with a snarl, pulling her mouth down to mine so I can kiss the notion of someone else pleasing her right out of her head. Although, watching her with Liam certainly doesn't sound like a bad idea.

Still, I'm aching to be inside her, to feel her wet heat. I have been for weeks. My restraint when it comes to this girl has been legendary.

"No one else," I growl against her lips. "No one else tonight. Tonight you're mine."

I feel her smile, kiss it, lick it, nip the curve of her mouth. "No one else tonight," she agrees easily, sifting her fingers through my hair. "Just you."

I lunge up to steal her mouth with mine, hands tightening on her ass to grind her sweet wet cunt against my cock as I shift us, laying her back on the couch so I can loom over her. I pull back, my hands already hooked into the waistband of her shorts. "You're sure?"

I think I might die if she changes her mind, but she doesn't. Thank fuck when she gives me a small smile and nods. "I'm sure."

I drop my head down and press a kiss to the curve of her belly, momentarily lost in the fantasy of doing the same thing while it's swollen with our baby growing inside her. I push the thought away even though it lingers there at the back of my head. It's always been there since the first moment I laid eyes on her.

I gently tug the fabric off her hips, trailing kisses in its wake, my nose nuzzling her soft skin, taking deep inhales of her scent. "Fuck, conejita. You smell so good." As I discard the boxers she was wearing, I smirk up at her. "Bet you taste even better."

I don't give her a chance to reply, ducking my head and swiping my tongue through her folds, lapping up the arousal pooled on them, before circling her clit. Her hands latch onto my hair immediately as her hips roll up and she gasps, "Oh, fuck, Rafe!"

I'm not sure I've heard a sweeter sound than that. "You like that, huh?" I lift my head to ask, and she practically snarls at me. Her only response is to tighten her grip on my hair and shove my face back between her legs.

I go happily, grinning again at her taste, at how responsive she is. The way she sighs and moans and gasps, how her hips roll up when I slide two fingers inside her, urging me to go deeper to take more.

It doesn't take long for her inner muscles to start to flutter, to grip my fingers like she doesn't want me to leave. When I find the rough patch of nerves buried deep in her pussy and rub my fingers over it while sucking on her clit, she explodes. Crying out my name to the ceiling in a hoarse voice that I fucking love.

She slumps against the cushions, body lax and sated, as I push up to kiss her mouth as greedily as I kissed her cunt. I'm about to pull away to suggest that we tuck her into bed. As much as I want to bury myself inside her, she's had a tough night, and she's obviously exhausted now.

But then she bites my lower lip, tugging the flesh into her mouth. "More," she murmurs.

I'm not sure I've ever moved so fast in my life, shucking off my clothes and tossing them carelessly aside, pulling my hoodie and Liam's t-shirt off of her until she's gloriously naked. I want to spend an hour just staring at her, drinking in her generous curves and all that golden tan skin, but as soon as Sorrel whispers the word ‘more' in that husky tone, my cock was too fucking eager to get inside her.

I situate us with her straddling my lap again, positioning myself at her entrance. She makes a startled noise as I thrust into her with no warning, hands gripping my shoulders tight, head dropping back as the noise turns into a moan. "Oh, fuck, conejita . Fuck. Fuck ."

I stop moving when I'm inside her to the hilt, tilting my head back to rest on the couch, to look up at her lazily. "We fucked up," I say, and she looks down at me with wide eyes, a flash of hurt in their depths that she quickly buries.

"Oh, I'm... I'm sorry. I should have-" She starts to climb off me, like she thinks I mean us fucking is a mistake, but my hands slap down on her hips, fingertips sinking into her flesh to hold her where she is so I can grind up into her.

"We fucked up," I repeat against her mouth. "How the hell am I supposed to get anything done now that I know being inside you feels this fucking good? Huh? All I'm going to be able to think about is getting my dick inside this perfect pussy. Puro puto cielo ."

A giggle falls into my mouth, trembles against my tongue and I swallow it down greedily. "Perfect, huh?"

"So fucking perfect." I urge her hips to move. "Ride me baby. Take what you need from me. I'll give it happily."

Sorrel leans back, braces her hands on my knees, giving me the perfect view of where we're joined as she rolls her hips, fucking herself on my cock. "Like this?"

I watch myself slide in and out of her, watch how her body softens and stretches to make way for mine. It might be the sexiest thing I've ever seen. Though the similar view of my cock sliding into my omega is right there, too.

I keep one hand on her hip, helping keep her steady, guiding the movement of her hips and slide the other until I can circle her clit. She whines, the motion of her hips becoming more frantic as I build her higher and higher. The feel of her, the sight of her, the smell of our combined arousal, winter pine and sweet lavender is too much. So much. It's fucking everything, and I am not surprised when the pleasure coalesces in the swelling of my knot and an aching in my jaw.

Of course it does. Sorrel is fucking perfect. I'm pretty sure she's my mate—our mate—even if the feeling, the instinct, isn't as strong as it was when I met Gray and Liam. She's fucking ours. My body knows it and wants to claim her the same way I've claimed my omega. Fuck. Knot. Bite.

Sorrel pushes off my knees, hands coming back to my shoulders, nails digging in to give herself better purchase as she bounces up and down, pretty tits jiggling with each movement. I bend my head and suck as much of one of them as I can into my mouth, tongue flicking over the tight peak. She moans and arches into me, giving me better access. I move to the other side, giving into the need to bite by scraping my teeth over her nipple, sinking them into the flesh around it but not breaking skin.

"Oh, fuck, Rafe. Yes. Yes. Just like that." The urge to give into her demands, to sink my teeth all the way in, make her bleed, make her mine is… intense. My alpha is roaring at me to do it, but I hold back. I won't bite her until we have a conversation about it when my cock isn't buried inside her tight little pussy.

"Knot me," she says, not sounding like she's pleading for it, begging, but like a demand. An order.

"What?" I pull back and look down at her, certain I misheard her. "No, baby, I can't. I can't knot you."

Her brow furrows, and her mouth pulls into a pout. "But it won't be as good for you if you don't."

A raspy laugh falls from my lips. " Conejita . Being inside of you, feeling you clench on my cock is so. Fucking. Good. The best. I don't need to knot in order to enjoy fucking you."

Her frown deepens. "But-"

"No buts. I will not risk hurting you just to knot you, baby. I can come just fine without it." And then, to prove my point, I grind up into her, bumping her clit with the bulge at the base of my cock. She whines and her eyes roll to the back of her head, before she's back to glaring at me stubbornly.

"I can take it. I know I can."

I almost laugh at that, but there's a vulnerability in her eyes, a hurt that I don't like to see. I stop grinding into her, and reach up to cup her cheeks, push her wild hair over her shoulders.

"No, Sorrel, you can't. And that's okay. Your value, your worth to us, isn't tied to your ability to take a knot. Eres mucho más que eso ." Tears fill her eyes, but she blinks them away.

The stubborn set of her jaw should have warned me, but for some unknown reason, I thought she would take me at my word. So imagine my fucking surprise when she bears down on me hard, her pussy splitting and stretching around the top of my knot. I pause for one moment, because, fuck, it feels so fucking good. But then she winces, her forehead wrinkling as she bites her lips hard, like she's holding back a cry and common sense and the fear of doing serious damage to her rears up.

" Sorrel, stop ." I lace the command with an alpha bark. I try not to use it. Normally, I don't only when I need to get Liam to do something for his safety, and he's being stubborn about it. But I've used it now and my girl freezes, eyes wide. The look on her face is enough to make me soften my tone as I cup her jaw. "I told you no, baby."

A weary sigh falls from her lips, and she nods, tipping her chin toward her chest, gaze falling from mine. "Okay. Sorry. I'll stop."

"Trust me, conejita , please. I can enjoy you without that." Another nod from her, but she still won't look at me and I hate it.

With a growl, I flip our positions, press her back into the couch and loom over her. My cock slips out of her, slides between her pussy lips to nudge her clit. "Do you feel that, Sorrel? Do you feel how hard you make me? Do you feel my cum dripping out of me in anticipation of filling you? Fuck baby, I'm enjoying myself so much with you that my knot is swelling. You know that doesn't always happen, right?"

She nods. "Right."

"But just because it's there, doesn't mean you need to hurt yourself to take it, okay? That would ruin me. I can't bear the thought of hurting you when I only want you to feel good. Okay?"

The tension that had been riding her body eases, and her fingers wander over me again. "‘Kay," she mumbles, flicking her gaze up to meet mine. "I just really want you to enjoy this."

"Trust me, I am." I thrust into her again, making those gorgeous tits of hers bounce with the force. "I really fucking am. Now be a good girl and come on my cock for me so I can fill you up."

She does.

And I do, three times.