Page 43 of Knot Their Princess

I offer the male Alpha a professional smile and nod. “Of course. That’s what we’re here for.”

His smile is crooked, slightly endearing. “I’ll be sure to come back next month, when I have more money.”

I stay silent but cordial as I escort him to the door and close it behind him.

It’s been over a week since Garen came to see me, and almost as long since I ran into all three of my Alphas at Matty’s favorite Cuban cafe. I’d been so frightened to see them all together that Matty noticed and started asking some questions I can’t answer. Ever.

After I clean up the room for the next client, I take a quick body shower in the small bathroom at the back and return to the room in a towel, heading to the hook on the wall where I’ve hung my outfit change.

“Don’t bother. You won’t need clothes the rest of the night.”

I screech, nearly jumping out of my skin as I turn and see… Ilya.

“You scared the shit out of me,” I seethe, heart racing where I clench my fist at it.

The amused expression on his handsome face makes me want to punch him.

“Apologies, beautiful one.” He stands perfectly still on the other side of the room, a bed, bondage bench, and a face-rider chair between us. He’s wearing a dark gray suit with a white shirt, the top few buttons undone, his missing tie in his hand.

“What are you doing here?”

What a stupid fucking question. But my brain can’t process what’s happening right now.

Once I’d met these Alphas in New York, I naively thought I’d be leaving them behind, never to see them again. Instead, they followed me across the country. They haunt my every thought and show up in my life at the most inopportune times, yet they also seem to be keeping their distance. I don’t believe for one minute they knew I’d be at that cafe, and Ilya waited for days after to come here.

He regards me, a small pinch forming between his brows. “Garen told me that when he came to you, he didn’t want your paid time to include anything sexual.” Ilya unbuttons his jacket and begins to take it off. “But I don’t care about that. Do you know why?”

My mouth is suddenly dry as I watch his muscles move beneath the pale fabric of his shirt. “W-why?”

“Because I know you want me, regardless of paying for your time.”

Of course, I do. Everything about him and his pack brothers sings to me like a siren song. Their looks, their voices, their scents, their attitudes…

“I confess,” he says, tossing his jacket onto the bed and beginning to unbutton his shirt the rest of the way, making my heart race for a different reason now. “I’ve always been the dominant one. The kind who enjoys bringing a woman to the brink, pulling her back, showing her pleasure she’s never experienced before. But,” he pulls his shirt off and tosses it beside his jacket, revealing bulging muscles in his torso, the likes I’ve never seen in person, “I’ll do anything you want in order to be with you. To touch and taste you.” He falls to his knees on the floor at the foot of the bed, holds out his tie to me. “Mistress.”

My pulse spikes.

“I’m begging you to do what you will to me. Command me. Use me. I’m yours.”

My body warms from the inside, my skin tingling, pussy pulsing with desire I’ve never felt. Everything with Garen had been chaste, loving. Cuddling in bed, whispered sweet talk, kisses. But here’s Ilya, dominant Alpha, on his knees before me, waiting for instruction like a good submissive.

I’ve never been so turned on in my life.

I approach him slowly, watch his every breath, chest rising and falling. My eyes trace the smattering of hair above his pecs, the way it trails down the center of his torso and disappears beneath his waistband making my mouth water, my slick ready to spill from my core the closer I get to him.

His nostrils flare when I reach him, pupils blown in his green eyes. I take the tie from his open hands, tracing my fingertips along his face, down his stubble, let it scratch me so nicely. All I want is to feel that scratch along my body, everywhere. The idea is so foreign yet feels so right. But I can’t lose myself here. I’m aware enough to know that one false move with Ilya, or Garen, or even Cade, will bring threat to us all.

Because, what if I can’t stop? What if I beg them to knot me?

I can’t trust myself.

“Hands behind your back.”

Ilya doesn’t hesitate and follows my directions. I circle him, bend at the knees and tie his wrists with his necktie. Not too tight, but enough he’d have to work to get free. When I’m standing in front of him again, I drop my towel and kick it away, feeling a rush through my entire body at his small intake of breath, how his pale eyes darken as they trail along my skin, settling at my breasts, my naval, then my pussy.

I move to sit on the edge of the bed beside him after I move his clothes aside, then wave him over to me. He walks on his knees until his belly hits the mattress between my spread legs and turns his desire-laden face up at me, waiting for my next command.

“Kiss me,” I tell him. “Kiss me how you were going to at midnight at your party.”