28. Aria

28

ARIA

I stand in front of my bedroom mirror, smoothing down my simple cotton dress for the hundredth time. The soft fabric catches on my calloused fingertips. The scent of orange creamsicle—my anxious pheromones—fills the air, mingling with the lavender candles I lit earlier. Their flickering light casts dancing shadows on the walls, creating an atmosphere that’s both intimate and slightly unsettling.

My heart races as I glance at the clock, its soft ticking a counterpoint to my rapid pulse. Zane will be here any minute. I take a deep breath and square my shoulders. I’m not the same frightened omega I used to be. I can do this.

Also, I have no idea what this is. Is he here to take me out? Did he have something to tell me?

Or… Or is this a booty call and am I okay with that?

Slick leaks from my core, telling me all I need to know about what she thinks of it.

As if summoned by my thoughts, there’s a gentle knock at the door. The sound echoes in my small apartment, making me jump. I stride to the door, my movements more confident than I feel, and open it.

Zane stands there, his intense blue eyes softening as they meet mine. The familiar scent of leather and sandalwood washes over me, simultaneously comforting and thrilling. It reminds me of safety and danger simultaneously, much like Zane himself.

“Hey,” I say, my voice steady despite my nerves.

“Aria,” Zane replies, his lips curving into a small smile. His deep voice sends a shiver down my spine. “You look… radiant.”

I feel my cheeks warm at the compliment. “Thanks. Come in?”

As Zane passes, his arm brushes against mine, and I feel a jolt of electricity at the contact. I close the door, leaning against it momentarily to gather my thoughts.

When I turn, Zane is standing in the middle of my living room, his eyes roaming over the space. I see it anew through his gaze—the overstuffed bookshelf, the throw blanket draped haphazardly over the couch, and the small potted succulent on the windowsill. They are all pieces of the life I built since coming to Puritan City, fragile but growing stronger every day.

“Nice place,” he comments, his gaze lingering on the stacks of books. “Very you.”

I laugh softly, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. “Is that a compliment or an insult?”

Zane’s smile widens, his eyes crinkling at the corners. It’s a rare expression for him, and it makes my heart skip a beat. “Definitely a compliment. It’s warm, inviting… and complex, like its owner.”

His words hang in the air between us, charged with unspoken meaning. I feel my cheeks flush and look away, unsure how to respond. My gaze lands on a framed photo of me with Cayenne and Ginger, reminding me of their support and encouragement. I draw strength from that memory.

“Aria,” Zane says gently, taking a step closer. The floorboards creak under his weight. “We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with. We can just talk if that’s what you want.”

I meet his gaze, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. I take a deliberate step toward him, closing the distance between us.

“I want this, Zane,” I say, my voice stronger than I expected. “I’m scared, yes, but I’m not letting fear control me anymore.”

A flash of admiration crosses Zane’s face. “You’re braver than you give yourself credit for,” he says softly. Then, with a hint of his usual enigmatic nature, he adds, “But bravery isn’t the absence of fear. It’s acting in spite of it.”

I take a deep breath, the scent of lavender and Zane’s unique musk filling my lungs. “I’m afraid of losing myself, of not being enough, of… of getting hurt again.” I pause, then add, “But I’m more afraid of not living at all.”

Zane’s expression softens further. He reaches out slowly, telegraphing his movements, and takes my hand in his. His skin is warm and slightly calloused, a testament to his training and strength. “Aria, you are more than enough, and I promise you, I will never intentionally hurt you. We can take this as slow as you need.”

His words wrap around me like a warm blanket, soothing some of my fears. I squeeze his hand, taking a small step closer. The scent of leather intensifies, and I find it oddly comforting. “Thank you,” I whisper.

We stand there for a moment, just holding hands and looking into each other’s eyes. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the air between us changes. The tension shifts from nervous to something else entirely. I’m acutely aware of every point of contact between us and the warmth radiating from his body.

A memory flashes through my mind—Quinn’s gentle touch as he showed me his latest invention and the way his eyes lit up with excitement. The contrast between his quirky charm and Zane’s brooding intensity is striking. I push the thought aside, focusing on the present moment.

Zane lifts his free hand, gently cupping my cheek. His touch is featherlight, giving me every opportunity to pull away. “May I kiss you?” he asks, his voice low and husky.

I nod, not trusting my voice. Zane leans in slowly, and I feel his breath on my lips. When his lips finally meet mine, it’s soft and sweet, a question more than a demand. It’s nothing like the harsh, demanding kisses I’ve known before.

I respond, pressing closer, resting my free hand on his chest. I feel his heart racing beneath my palm, matching the frantic beat of my own. The steady thump is reassuring.

The kiss deepens, and with it, memories of my past start to surface—Noah’s harsh grip and his cruel words. I tense involuntarily, old fears threatening to overwhelm me. The scent of orange creamsicle spikes, filling the air with my distress.

Zane pulls back immediately, concern etched on his face. His hands move to my shoulders, steadying but not constraining. “Are you okay? Do you need to stop?”

I take a deep breath, forcing the memories back. “No,” I say firmly, surprising myself with my resolve. “I don’t want to stop. I just… need a moment.”

Zane nods, his eyes never leaving mine. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

His patience, so at odds with his usual intensity, touches something deep inside me. I step forward, closing the distance between us again. “Hold me?” I ask softly.

Without hesitation, Zane wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. I bury my face in his chest, breathing in his comforting scent. The steady beat of his heart grounds me, reminding me that this is Zane, not Noah. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, running a soothing hand down my back. “You’re safe here.”

We stand like this for several long moments, my racing thoughts gradually calming. The ticking of the clock fades into the background, and time seems to stand still in the circle of Zane’s arms. When I finally look up at him, the tenderness in his eyes nearly undoes me.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice slightly hoarse.

Zane smiles softly, his thumb gently wiping away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen. “Always. Do you want to talk about it?”

I consider it for a moment, then nod. The weight of my past feels lighter somehow, shared between us. “Noah hurt me in more ways than one, and sometimes when I think too much, the memories…”

“Come back at the worst times,” Zane finishes for me. I nod, grateful for his understanding. “Aria…” His hands move to cup my face, gentle but grounding. “I want you to know you’re in control here. We won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. If you need to stop at any point, for any reason, just say the word. Okay?”

His words wash over me, soothing my frayed nerves. I nod, feeling a surge of affection for this man who’s being so patient with me. “Okay,” I agree, my voice stronger now. “I trust you, Zane.”

The smile that stretches across his face is breathtaking. It transforms his usually brooding features, making him look younger and more vulnerable. Slowly, giving me time to object, he leans in for another kiss. This time, when our lips meet, I let myself melt into it.

As the kiss deepens, I feel something shift inside me. The lingering fear and doubt start to fade, replaced by a growing warmth and desire. I press closer to Zane, sliding my hands up to tangle in his hair. The silky strands slip through my fingers, and I revel in the small gasp this elicits from him.

Zane responds in kind, his hands roaming my back but always staying respectful. When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing heavily. The air around us feels charged, heavy with possibility.

“Bedroom?” Zane asks, his voice rough with desire.

I nod, taking his hand and leading him down the short hallway. The wood floor is cool beneath my bare feet, a contrast to the heat building within me. As we cross the threshold into my room, I feel a moment of panic. This is really happening.

Zane must sense my hesitation, because he stops and turns me to face him. The moonlight streaming through the window casts half his face in shadow, but his eyes shine with warmth and intensity. “Before we go any further, I want to ask you something,” he says, his voice steady and sure. “Will you submit to me tonight? Will you let me be your master, trusting me to guide and pleasure you?”

I look up into his eyes, seeing nothing but care, desire, and a promise of something more. In this moment, I make a decision. I’m tired of letting Noah’s shadow control me. I want this—I want him on his terms.

“Yes,” I say, my voice soft but resolute. “I’ll submit to you, Master Zane.”

The growl that escapes him sends a shiver of anticipation through me. He pulls me close, kissing me deeply, passionately, before whispering, “Good girl.”

He leads me to the bed, his hands firm and confident on my body. Zane guides me to sit on the edge, then he stands back to look at me, his eyes filled with lust and approval. “Wait here,” he commands, then he turns to my closet, rummaging until he finds a few silk scarves.

He returns to me, running the soft material through his fingers. “I’m going to bind your hands,” he says, his voice calm and reassuring. “Is that alright with you?”

I nod, offering him my wrists. He wraps the scarves around them gently but firmly, then he ties them to the bedpost. I’m left lying on my back with my arms stretched above me, completely at his mercy. A thrill of excitement and vulnerability courses through me.

He leans in, his breath warm against my ear as he whispers commands. “I’m going to touch you here,” he says, his voice low and seductive, before his fingers trace a line down my ribs. I find myself surrendering completely, trusting that Master Zane will catch me, guide me, and give me the pleasure I crave.

“Remember, you have a safe word,” Zane murmurs, brushing his lips against my neck and sending a jolt of electricity through me. “If you ever feel uncomfortable or want to stop, just say red. Everything stops. Got it?”

I nod, whispering, “Yes, Master Zane. I understand.”

His smile is slow and sensual, a curve of his lips that makes my heart race. “Good. Now, let’s take our time with these beautiful curves,” he says, tracing the outline of my body through the thin fabric of my dress. I arch into his touch, already craving more.

He moves deliberately, his fingers gliding over my skin like it’s sacred ground. Every touch is intentional, and every stroke is designed to stoke the fire inside me. He pulls my dress over my head, leaving me in just my lace bra and panties. His eyes darken with appreciation, taking in every inch of me.

“You’re exquisite,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. He leans down, his lips capturing one of my nipples through the lace, teasing it with his tongue until it hardens into a tight bud. I gasp, the sensation sending a shockwave of pleasure straight to my core.

He moves to the other breast, lavishing it with the same attention, his hands never stopping their exploration of my body. I squirm beneath him, needing more, needing him. He chuckles, the sound low and sexy, sending vibrations through my skin.

“Patience, my sweet,” he whispers, trailing his fingers down to the waistband of my panties. “I promise, the wait will be worth it.”

He hooks his fingers into the lace and slowly, tantalizingly, pulls them down, revealing me inch by inch. I’m trembling now, every nerve ending alive and aching for his touch. He discards the panties then sits back, his gaze burning into me.

“Spread your legs for me,” he commands softly. I hesitate for a moment, feeling a flush of embarrassment, but the hunger in his eyes and the promise of pleasure compel me to obey. I spread my legs, opening myself to him completely.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice filled with reverence. His fingers gently part my folds, his breath warm against my most sensitive flesh. “Now, let’s see how you taste.”

His tongue flicks out, a quick, teasing touch that leaves me gasping for more. He chuckles again, the sound vibrating against me, sending waves of pleasure crashing through me. I’m at his mercy, and I’ve never felt more alive.

He begins to explore my body with his mouth, each kiss and lick sending waves of pleasure coursing through me. His hands continue their gentle exploration, his fingers dancing over my skin and heightening my sensitivity to every touch. I let out a soft moan as he focuses on a particularly sensitive spot, my body responding to his every move.

Zane raises his head, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and adoration. “You taste so sweet,” he whispers before returning his attention to my body. His fingers slip inside me, filling me up, and he starts to set a slow, steady rhythm. My body begins to tremble, my breaths coming in short gasps as I feel the first stirrings of an orgasm.

Just as the pleasure builds to its peak, Zane stops, withdrawing his hands from my body. I whimper in frustration, craving more, but I see the smile on his face, and I realize he’s just beginning to play with me.

He reaches for the bedpost, his movements fluid and controlled, and unties one of my hands. “Touch yourself,” he commands softly, his voice filled with the same urgency that’s coursing through my veins. “I want to see you come.”

I hesitate for a moment, unsure if I can do what he’s asking, but his eyes never leave mine, filled with encouragement and lust. I follow his command, moving my hand to my drenched folds, mimicking his earlier touches. I moan as I find my rhythm, my body responding to my touch but amplified by the intensity of Zane’s presence.

As I reach the peak of my pleasure, Zane’s free hand moves to cup my breast, and his thumb flicks my nipple, sending me over the edge. I cry out, the orgasm washing over me in a wave of intense, overwhelming pleasure. I feel Zane’s hand on my arm, his thumb stroking a soothing pattern as he waits for the tremors to subside.

When I finally catch my breath, he presses his lips against mine in a gentle kiss. “You were incredible,” he murmurs, his voice filled with pride and satisfaction. “But we’re not done yet.”

Zane’s words send a shiver down my spine, even as I tremble from the aftershocks of my intense climax. He’s still fully clothed, his physique imposing above me, as his large hands explore my naked body with a confidence that arouses me even more.

He slides his palms up my sides and cups my breasts, rolling my sensitive nipples between his fingers. I arch into his touch, craving more contact, more friction. Zane smirks, seeming to enjoy how responsive I am to him.

“Do you want more, Aria? Do you want me to take you completely?” Zane’s voice is a low, seductive rumble. His hips press into mine, and I feel the hard bulge of his arousal straining against his jeans. He’s huge, and the thought of him filling me makes me clench with need.

“Yes, Zane, please,” I beg shamelessly, too far gone to care how desperate I sound. I just need to feel him inside me, claiming me, possessing me utterly.

“That’s Master Zane, kitten.” With a low groan, Zane captures my mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue battling mine for dominance. He grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head, though my other one is still loosely bound. The restraint only heightens my arousal.

Zane breaks the kiss to hastily shrug off his T-shirt, revealing his sculpted chest and abs. My mouth waters at the sight, my hands aching to touch and explore, but Zane keeps a firm grip on my wrists.

“Not yet, Aria,” Zane says sternly, even as he shivers when I arch under him, rubbing my slick heat against his denim-clad erection. “You don’t touch until I allow it. Understand?”

I whimper and nod frantically. “Yes, Zane, I understand. I’ll be good for you.”

“That’s my good girl,” Zane praises, the words melting me even as they set my nerves alight with anticipation. He lowers his head to lavish attention on my breasts again, suckling and nibbling until I thrash beneath him, keening with pleasure.

Slick soaks my sheets, and I can’t even find it in me to care.

Zane releases my wrists so he can hastily unfasten his jeans and kick them off. His boxer briefs follow, then he settles between my parted thighs, the hot, heavy weight of him thrilling against my sensitive sex.

“You’re dripping, Aria… so wet for me already,” Zane growls, rubbing the blunt tip of his cock through my slick folds, coating himself in my slick. “I can feel how badly you need my cock.”

“Yes, Zane, please,” I babble, beyond words.

Zane’s dark, heavy-lidded eyes bore into mine. He leans down to murmur, “Lie still, Aria. No moving until I permit it. Be an obedient little toy for your master.”

I whimper my assent, trembling with the effort of obeying Zane’s command when every fiber of my being screams to grind against him. Zane pushes forward until just the tip of his erection penetrates me, and I stiffen, a strangled moan escaping me.

Zane sinks in a little deeper, his cock stretching my slick passage deliciously. He pauses, savoring the exquisiteness of my velvety walls gripping him. Then, excruciatingly slowly, Zane pushes forward until he’s buried to the hilt inside me.

I gasp, my eyes wide and stunned. Zane feels impossibly huge, his thick length pulsing against my fluttering inner muscles. Zane braces his forearms on either side of my head, resting his weight on them, not allowing me to squirm or buck up against him.

“You’re so tight, Aria,” Zane growls emphatically, his voice strained with control. “I can feel your pussy fluttering around me, trying to milk me. I’m going to ruin this little cunt for anyone else.”

“Yes, Zane, please,” I gasp out, meaning it. I never want to feel this full, this complete, with anyone but Zane and the pack. His hips pull back and slam forward, driving into me with fervent, shuddering force.

Zane sets a relentless pace, pounding into my slick heat with powerful thrusts. He’s hitting that spot deep inside me that makes stars flare behind my eyelids. The obscene slap of skin fills the air, punctuated by my chanting moans.

“Yes, Zane, more, harder, fuck me!” I wail deliriously, all my buttoned-up poise shattered utterly under Zane’s ferocious onslaught. Zane gives an especially brutal thrust, and the tension coiled deep inside me unravels violently. I convulse around Zane’s length, clamping down on him like a silken vise as my orgasm crashes through me.

I scream Zane’s name in mindless ecstasy, my slick walls spasming.

“You ready for my knot?” Zane’s nostrils flare as he inhales my arousal, his pupils blown wide with lust. A guttural groan escapes his throat at the feeling of my pussy clamping down rhythmically around him, still spasming with the aftershocks of my intense climax.

“That’s it, Aria, take my knot,” Zane growls, thrusting his hips even harder, burying himself to the hilt inside me. I let out a strangled moan, my back arching off the bed as Zane’s knot stretches me impossibly wider. The added pressure sends sparks of pleasure and pain radiating through my core.

“Yes, Zane, give it to me!” I wail deliriously, wrapping my leg around his waist to pull him impossibly deeper. Zane snarls in approval, his knot locking us together as he begins to pulse and throb inside me, spraying thick jets of cum deep into my spasming channel.

“That’s it, my perfect little mate. Take every last drop,” Zane rasps raggedly, his hips jerking as he empties himself inside me. The feeling of Zane’s warm seed floods my womb, claiming me so completely it sends me hurtling into another mind-shattering climax.

I cling to Zane as I shake apart beneath him, muffled keening sounds spilling from my lips. Zane catches my whimpers with his mouth, swallowing them down as he licks into me.

Our climaxes seem to go on forever, trading agonizing pleasure that borders just this side of pain, before Zane finally collapses on top of me, spent and panting. I feel his heart pounding, his skin slick with sweat against mine.

“That was… Fuck, Aria, you’re amazing,” Zane mumbles against my neck, still buried deep inside me. His knot locks us together as we bask in the afterglow of our explosive coupling.

I hum contentedly underneath him, sated and boneless. Zane lifts his head to brush a tender kiss against my lips, the intimacy making my heart flutter. His expression is soft and satiated, his gaze roaming over me like I’m his most cherished possession.

“Mine,” Zane murmurs, nuzzling into the curve of my neck possessively before inhaling deeply. “My mate. My perfect little toy. I’m never letting you go.”

“Yes, Zane, I’m yours, all yours,” I agree readily, twining my fingers in his hair. Zane kisses me deeply in return, pouring his devotion and ardor into it until I’m dizzy with it.

In Zane’s arms, I feel cherished and utterly possessed. Zane’s warmth envelops me like a blanket as we drift in contented limbo, our physical connection solid and unbreakable.

Despite the strangeness and unfamiliarity of this new dynamic, I’ve never felt more at peace, more complete, more… home.

We lie tangled together, my head on Zane’s chest as he traces lazy patterns on my back. The cotton sheets are cool against my flushed skin, and Zane’s steady heartbeat echoes in my ear. I feel… different, lighter somehow, as if a weight I didn’t even know I was carrying has been lifted.

“What are you thinking?” Zane asks softly, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I consider his question for a moment before answering, wanting to be honest with both him and myself. “I’m thinking that I could get used to this… to us.”

I feel rather than hear Zane’s chuckle. “Good,” he says, his voice warm with affection. “Because I plan on sticking around for a long time, if you’ll have me.”

I prop myself up on an elbow, looking into his eyes. The sincerity I see there makes my heart swell. “I think I’d like that,” I say, surprised by how much I mean it.

As Zane drifts off to sleep, I find myself watching him, marveling at how peaceful he looks. My fingers trace the lines of his face, memorizing every detail. In sleep, the brooding intensity that usually marks his features is softened, revealing the vulnerability beneath.

My thoughts drift to the rest of the pack. For the first time, I allow myself to imagine a future with all of them. It’s scary, yes, but also… exciting. Each of them brings something unique to my life, filling spaces I didn’t even know were empty—Zane’s intensity, Quinn’s brilliance, Malachi’s stability, and Dash’s joy. Together, they make me feel whole in a way I never thought possible.

I snuggle closer to Zane, inhaling his comforting scent. As I close my eyes, I realize that for the first time in a long time, I’m looking forward to tomorrow. The future stretches out before me, no longer a source of dread but of possibility. I know there will be challenges ahead—Noah is still out there, and my own fears won’t disappear overnight—but here, in this moment, surrounded by Zane’s warmth and the promise of the pack’s support, I feel ready to face whatever will come.

With that thought, I let myself drift off to sleep, feeling safer and more at home than I have in years. And as I teeter on the edge of dreaming, I swear I can almost smell them—leather and sandalwood, lavender and bergamot, cedarwood and amber, citrus and ocean breeze—wrapping around me like a promise of what could be.