Page 102 of Knot Her Beta

“I want to lie down,” she whimpers.

“Okay, I got you.” Jared scoops her up bridal-style, with no sign of strain.

He continues to murmur soothing words in her ear as he carries her toward their bedroom.

Grady and I stand in the quiet of the dining room.

“What happens now?” Grady asks, filled with uncertainty.

“Now,” I say, “we take care of her.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Emily

“Almost there.”

Jared pushes open the bedroom door with his shoulder, his elbow finding the light switch, and the lamps on the nightstands flood the room in warm yellow.

He bends to sit me upright on the bed, and he works the buttons on my shirt open. The flannel parts, and cool air hits my burning skin.

I gasp at the contact, my head tipping back, and Jared doesn’t pause. My bra next, the hooks undone with a twist of his fingers, before his hands are at my belt, dragging my jeans down my hips. My underwear follows, leaving me bare with the heat rolling off me in waves.

“Lie back,” Jared encourages, his hand on my shoulder pushing me onto the bed.

The cotton is blessedly cool beneath my back and thighs, and the relief is dizzying. Then the need surges back, twice as demanding, and I grab him by the T-shirt to yank him down.

As he settles beside me, my teeth graze the stubbled skin beneath his jaw, and the growl he releases vibrates straight to my core.

His clothes. I need them gone. I push his T-shirt up, and he helps, pulling it over his head in one motion. His skin warms beneath my touch, the lean muscle firm under my palms, and I drag my mouth down to his collarbone, licking away the salt of the day and nipping at his racing pulse.

“Em.” He cups the back of my head, fingers threading in the hair at my nape, and he holds me there while my mouth works lower, mapping his sternum, the flat plane of his stomach, the trail of hair below his navel, and lower.

I yank his jeans down with both hands, my mouth still moving, and he lifts his hips to help. His cock springs free, already hard, and I wrap my hand around him, and his pulse races here as well.

When I lower my head, the first touch of my tongue draws a broken sound from him. His hand tightens in my hair, his hips thrusting, sinking his length deeper into my mouth until he nudges the back of my throat. I take him deeper, throat swallowing around him, and his whole body goes taut.

His jaw clenches as his throat works, his focus on the ceiling as he fights a losing battle for control. Right as he nears the edge, I replace my mouth with my hand, stroking him until the tension in his thighs eases.

“Fuck, Em, please.”

I move to straddle him, his cock slick against my inner thigh, and I position myself, my hand between us guiding him to where I’m already wet and aching.

I sink down without waiting, the pleasure of it ripping a shout from my throat. He fills me, hot and thick, but there’s no time to relish the sensation of him pulsing inside my body.

My hands brace on his chest, and I ride him hard. Deep, rolling strokes that pull groans from him with every downward thrust. My pheromones thicken in the room with each movement, crushed clover gone bright and green, saturating the air until they coat my own tongue.

Jared grips my waist, and he meets me thrust for thrust, his hips lifting off the mattress to drive deeper.

His sea-glass green eyes find mine, dark with want, his jaw set and his breath coming in short gasps. On each downward stroke, his composure cracks, and the sight of it drives my pace harder, my thighs burning, my hands sliding from his chest to his shoulders, gripping hard enough to leave marks.

The climax builds from somewhere deep, a pressure that spreads outward, and my inner walls swell, my lock engaging with full force.

As my body seizes around him, my hips roll through the pulses, and a guttural, animalistic sound tears from the depths of me. Jared’s hands lock on my waist, and he thrusts deep as his knot swells, fighting the squeeze of my lock as he shudders through his release beneath me.

The pressure sends another wave of pleasure through me, and my hips keep grinding in circles, working through the aftershocks. I bend forward, my forehead resting on his collarbone, my breathing hard.

Jared’s hands stroke up my sides, his touch gentling as the worst of the wave passes. His chest rises and falls beneath my palms, and the bond between us hums, heartbeat racing in tandem.