Page 25 of Knot As It Seems

“Wouldn’t it piss off the rest of the pack if you claimed me without some sort of group vote?”

He lets out this heady, self-pleased laugh that does things to me. “They can suck my dick if they think they get any damn say in when and how I claim my omega. Maybe we’ll invite them into the bedroom next time.”

“I’m a handful, I promise. You’re going to get annoyed with me and probably have moments of doubt for making me yours permanently.”

Monet shakes his head, his wavy hair tickling my skin. “Baby, if docile omega was what I was after, you really think I’d be offering to claim you in my fucking workshop? I want someone real, someone that can take advantage of any situation and grab the life they want. So, I’m offering you this chance now; take what you fucking want without anyone else telling you you can’t. I want you to be the most selfish fucking version of you you’ve ever been and tell me exactly where I should plant my teeth and gnaw on you, then you’re going to take me to the fucking hilt and let me knot this virgin omega pussy that’s never going to know anyone else’s knots outside my pack. Does that sound like something you can handle?”

I promise I am not in control of the angle my back arches into or the sounds that erupt from my throat, because I’m gone. One way ticket, bags packed, house sold, gone. “Over my fucking throat so I can never hide it.”

His answering smile is so damn predatory and delicious that another one of those sounds escapes from me. He reaches into his pocket and retrieves a hair tie, pulls his hair away from the narrow edge of his jaw and cheekbones, and then falls into place.

He’s not shy about pulling my legs wide open and pushing his hardness against me, and it’s a hedonistic preview of what’s to come.

I feel the warmth of his breath on my skin first, the thrust of his still jean-clad hips against the soft fabric covering my center, then the hot, wet stripe of his tongue as it laves at the skin on my throat, coating me in his pheromones that should help numb me for a mating bite.

Next comes the prickle of teeth, gently at first as he thrusts against my center again, a careful exploration of hands under my waistband exactly where I need him, slipping through the pool of slick I’m producing for him. He groans something awful, something deep and twisted, then sinks his teeth so far under my skin that for a half second, I’m nervous he’s going to pull some bones out with him when he removes himself.

It hurts, at first, but then he’s pulling at my blood and becoming more frantic against me, using my body to chase a need we’ve both created. Next thing I know, he’s thrusting his wrist at me, but I don’t want to mark him on the bottom of his wrist where it’s neat and tidy and easily tucked away. I flip it over so it’s a painful, awkward angle for him before sinking my own fangs into him, gnawing at him so it scars beautifully before tasting him.

Full and sophisticated like a rare wine, he begins to fill my mouth and coat my face when I refuse to swallow, too lost in the enjoyment of our bond snapping into place. It’s utter devastation underneath him like that, us joining together in the whirlwind of emotions we’re both feeling mixing together like some sort of sentient storm.

Eventually he starts lapping at the wound, tending to itlike a responsible alpha, and I do the same for him. I don’t think I’ll ever fit the bill of a responsible omega, but to recreate this feeling, I might be willing to pretend on occasion.

He looks down at me then in a way no one has ever looked at me before, laying me bare. I can only stare back, startled, in wonder, at how incredibly enriched I feel.

“My. Fucking. Omega.”

I nod, biting my lip and daring to check out the goods I just signed onto for life.

He starts stripping so quickly that he quickly tangles himself up, going so far as to thrash and smack into the cabinet behind us that gives a precarious wobble before resettling.

“Maybe you should let me help,” I offer in a selfless pledge.

He pulls me to standing, kisses me to remind me exactly what we’re trying to be in the middle of, and then lifts my hands for the sole purpose of putting them on the clothing I want gone.

“Please be bossy. Be selfish. Take what you want, omega.”

I always thought that if I ever was freed from my prison and allowed around other people, and the times I went so far as to imagine being with an alpha in this way, my first time having sex would be soft and gentle, him taking his time with me on a feather duvet and soft pillows, maybe some stars twinkling outside a picture window. He’d lie me down carefully and get me completely bare before kissing every inch of me and working me open slowly in an effort to not hurt me.

I’d be trembling, nervous, letting the alpha do whatalphas are known for doing and taking control of the situation.

What I’m getting is so much worse and so much better at the same damn time.

When I pull the shirt off his chest, I pull it to my face first to inhale him, getting weak-kneed at the strength of his scent left behind on the fabric. Then I dumbly realize the real thing is right in front of me, and I’m sure I go into some sort of omega frenzy.

My nails feel more like claws as I pull his belt apart and make every inch of his skin appear, then I’m pushing him down to the ground, having an out of body experience as I attack.

I don’t even know where my clothes land, and at the moment, I don’t care; because I’m dripping wet, I’m newly claimed, and there’s a moody vampire underneath me fucking me with his eyes.

“Go slow, Omega. It’s going to hurt your first time.”

I snarl at him, getting in his face, only to feel a spurt of warmth against my leg. “Did you just ejaculate?”

He shakes his head, eyes pinching shut. “No, but with that tone, I’m damn close. Fine. Do what you will. Just make yourself feel good. Take that ache away, sweetheart.”

“Yes, Alpha,” I bite out as I straddle him and sink onto his very large alpha cock. It’s not even quite proportionate for the narrowness of his frame, but I will not be the one that raises questions.

It does pinch, but the promised relief of feeling him completely inside of me, in a place no alpha or other person has ever touched before, makes me too greedy to take theappropriate pace. All my omega cares about is being satisfied, of being filled by alpha cock and knotted to within an inch of our life.