Page 39 of Pack End Game

Not because I'm looking at a whole slew of sex toys, many models of which I have personal experience with. I've worked around them for long enough that I'm practiced in staying professional in their presence.

The problem is the three men accompanying me.

I feel like I'm drowning as I watch them appreciate the room I know so well.

Zak examines a row of our BDSM collection with rapt fascination. Freddie crouches to compare three different knot toys like he's evaluating fine art. Spencer is the most reserved initially, his eyes scanning some of the display placards sitting with each toy until his gaze slowly moves on from the toys... to me.

My problem is amplified tenfold by the heat in his gaze.

Eucalyptus.

Sandalwood.

Sea salt.

I don't think I'm imagining the way our scents are suddenly much stronger. Even my own scent seems to grow more potent. I'm so turned on that my body doesn't know what to do with itself.

My body seems to be burning up from the inside, and I feel a light sheen of sweat over my skin.

I'm desperate for the pack to touch me.

As if drawn closer by an invisible string, Spencer prowls toward me. I swallow hard as I take in the way his eyes darken slightly, eyelids drooping to give me bedroom eyes. He grabs me by the hips the moment I'm within his reach.

Instead of pulling me closer, he pushes me back against the wall.

One hand stays on my hip, the other moves to the wall beside my head. Spencer pins me against the wall with his body.

My breath catches.

He lowers his head and groans, "Mia," quietly beside my ear.

That's it.

Just my name.

I tilt my head back, and his mouth is already there.

Our first kiss is devastating.

His lips claim mine with the kind of controlled hunger that I'm rapidly learning belongs uniquely to Spencer. He's never careless or rushed in anything. He takes his time and makes every move count. I melt into him with a sound I didn't expect to be so loud.

I'm vaguely aware that the rest of the room falls silent as Spencer releases my hip to cup my jaw, angling my face to kiss me more thoroughly until all I taste is him and all I can think is more.

The kiss only works me up more.

Because of course it does.

Because I'm pressed against a wall in a room full of sex toys while my scent-matched alpha kisses me like there's a competition and he has something to prove.

A competition which, frankly, he wins hands down. Apparently, I've spent years kissing nothing but frogs because I've never even remotely been kissed like this before.

My alpha is an absolute fucking prince.

When he finally pulls away, I'm breathless and flushed. I blink up at him, dazed. "We could... Maybe we should use the testing room after all."

There's zero shame in me over how needy I sound.

Spencer's thumb strokes my jaw once, and then he shakes his head. "No."