Page 41 of Knot Without My Permission
“God, I think I need it too,” Wilder confesses. “I want to pull him from the depths of hell just to bring him back to us. We didn’t get enough time.”
He’s right, and nothing will change that.
“Harder, Alpha,” I insist, feeling the darkness threatening to drag me under.
That’s what my heat is becoming. It’s a mixture of boundless sadness and a monster who won’t let go. I don’t know how I’ll survive if this is what my heat is like every fucking time. It’s not a good time, it’s hell.
Wilder drops his weight on top of me as he fucks Storm’s knot into me, and I squeal as I hold on for dear life. This is connection and submission, because nothing else will do for this heat.
“Anything you want,” Wilder promises. “We’ve got you, Marie. Storm, I’ll pull you back if it gets too intense. Rut our omega, baby. She needs it.”
Storm’s hips pull back as much as he can since he’s knotted to me before he fucks into me. Rocking between my alphas, I manage to catch a glimpse of Storm’s eyes. They’re completelyblown out with desire and my pheromones, but I’m not afraid of him.
They feel good as they fuck me, and I let that pleasure carry me away from the pain.
Both the one from my heat and my heart.
Chapter Nine
Three days later
Lore
“Are you just going to continue to take up space in my house, or will you eventually leave?” Dr. Royal drawls.
“Are you telling me I’m starting to smell?” I ask.
“You’re so much fucking trouble.” Turning toward his pack mate, he says, “The next time I decide to pick up a shift and I find a mostly dead biker, please remind me that I should let him die.”
“Is this an affliction that happens often?” I ask.
I’m so fucking lucky to be alive. I know this. Fuck, I felt my heart stop, heard the doctor call the time of death in the deep recesses of my mind.
Basically, I thought I was a goner.
Instead, Dr. Royal came in while the others had left fifteen minutes earlier and was shocked to find that I was still breathing. The anesthesia was doing its job so I didn’t wake up, and he told me he hauled my ass out of the hospital in a body bag and arranged for someone to pick me up.
Since it was practically the graveyard shift, I believe it. He’s done nothing to prove he’s a liar. I didn’t feel the rest of the details were important, so I didn’t press him for them.
Ultimately, the only thing that matters is that I’m alive.
“It’s an affliction I have as the on-call mafia doctor,” Dr. Royal, Adrain, grunts. “I live down the road from some of them, and they refuse to forget it. It’s not like I’m already overworked.”
“Despite how grumpy Adrain is, he’s right. How long are you going to pretend to be dead?” Cyrus asks.
“At first, I needed to get rid of anyone who could hurt my pack,” I remind them, sitting heavily in a chair.
Lyker and his club had to be executed. I may catch hell for scraping them off the face of the earth, but I had every right. I wasn’t expecting my brother to appear when he did with Wilder, so I had to walk my bike out a mile so they wouldn’t see me.
I ripped my stitches all to hell, and I barely made it back to Adrain to fix me up. It was worth it though, even if I almost fell off the damn bike several times. This shit used to be easier when I was younger.
Who can’t bounce back from a little near death experience? Apparently I’m having trouble with it.
“And you did,” Adrain confirms, rolling his eyes. “Less than a fucking week out from almost dying, I may add! Crazy dick. So now what’s your next move?”
“I need to see Marie and my pack. Hopefully they can forgive me for this,” I sigh.
“For what? Almost dying?” Wilhelm snorts, leaning against the wall as he watches us. “You’re being dramatic. I’d rather choose my packmates alive and well over dying on a moral hill. You fucking coded on the table.”
