Page 31 of Knot Here for You

I lean a shoulder on the door frame and cross my arms over my chest. “I still can’t believe she’s actually here.”

His grin drops and I hate that it’s gone. Davis has been my one bright spot through this entire fucking situation, the only thing keeping me going. I’m honestly not sure how Ford has managed. He certainly hasn’t been leaning on us. If anything, the more time has passed, the farther he pulls away from us.

He’s come home smelling like the inside of a distillery and too many different beta scents for me to have ever picked out a particular one. I don’t know if he’s been fucking other women, or if they just…rub on him while he’s out getting shitfaced. Either way, it’s not okay, and that shit needs to stop now that Vee is back.

“She’s going to try to leave us again,” Davis says, sounding heartbroken. He looks away from me and swipes a hand down his face. “I tried to give her my phone number. Just in case, you know?” I nod. I would have done the same thing, except I would have demanded her phone number, too. My mate shakes his head. “She said she still remembers the numbers. She’s known them for seven years and didn’t use them. Said she didn’t want to.”

I can’t stand the anguish in his voice, so I push away from the door, ready to give him a distraction, to make him feel better. He watches me as I approach.

“I can’t say I blame her, Davis.” He opens his mouth like he’s going to protest, but I cut him off. “We broke her heart, baby. I take it as a good sign that she still even remembers our phone numbers.” He doesn’t look convinced. “Davis, it means she thought about calling us, even if she didn’t.”

His mouth snaps shut as I step between his spread thighs, my hands lacing into his curly brown hair, tugging his head back just slightly. “She’s here, in the city, with us. Jackson ran into her on the fucking street. Fate is on our side this time, Davis. And if she isn’t, then we’ll just have to force her hand.”

He groans when I kiss him, lips parting to let me taste him. French toast explodes on my tongue. His hands grip the backs of my thighs like he wants to pull me closer, but he doesn’t. That’s not how it is between us. My hands tighten on his hair in warning, and he lets out a whimper that goes right to my dick, making it throb.

I pull back and he tries to chase my lips, but I hold him where I want him. “You need a distraction, don’t you, baby?”

He swallows thickly and nods, hissing when his hair tugs. “Yes, please, sir.”

I smirk down at him, before leaning forward to press another kiss to his mouth. “You’re going to be a good boy and suck my cock for me, aren’t you?”

Another whimper. “Yes, sir.”

I straighten up, but don’t release his hair. He waits, looking up at me with hungry blue-gray eyes. When I give a nod, he slides his hands from the backs of my legs up to the fly of my jeans, fingers sure as they undo the button and the zip. He hisses when he realizes I’m not wearing anything under the denim.

Then he pauses, waiting for my next command like the good boy he is. “Take out my cock.”

Davis’s hand dives into the gaping fabric, closing around the hard length of my dick and pulling it out with a few powerful strokes. My jeans slip down my hips, making it easier for him to access my cock.

He looks up at me with his eager blue-gray eyes, plump lips parted, waiting, waiting, waiting. He’s so good at that, at listening for my every command, at wanting to please. I wonder if Sylvie is the same. If she’ll bow to my will or if she’ll play the brat, letting me punish her when she acts out.

An image of the both of them bent over in front of me, asses red from my palm, both of them dripping arousal and cum, makes my dick jump and Davis hums in appreciation. I stroke my thumb over his bottom lip.

“Did you get close enough to smell her?” I rasp.

His lids fall halfway down his eyes. I don’t have to specify the her I’m talking about. The only her that matters. Vee. Sylvie Grace. My angel. But he shakes his head. “I did, but she didn’t smell like anything. Lilacs maybe.”

I hum and slide my thumb between his lips, which he closes around them immediately, sucking hard like I know he’ll do to my cock. His fingers tighten around me, giving me one hard stroke that makes me groan.

There’s a popping noise as I pull my thumb out of his mouth, smearing his saliva over his lips roughly. “Tell me what you want me to do to you, to both of you.”

He groans and leans into my hand. “Fuck. I don’t know.”

My grip on his jaw goes hard, squeezing, and he lets out a little pant that has my dick jumping again. “You do know. Tell me.”

He shakes his head. “I want to have her straddle my face while you suck my cock. I want to fuck her while you fuck me. I want… I want to fuck her ass while you’re in her pussy. I want to bite her, knot her, claim her. Make her ours. Fuck. I want everything.”

My dick throbs with the images he paints in my mind. I might have been concerned that I would see Vee as the seventeen-year-old she was the last time I saw her, rather than the woman she is now. But that worry is eased when I can see her in my mind’s eye exactly as she is today, writhing and moaning under us. Dripping slick out of her pussy and begging for our knots.

Fuck.

I want everything Davis just laid out for us, too.

I just want everything. With her. With him.

Wordlessly, my fingers tighten in his dark brown curls, and I pull him toward my cock. He comes willingly, swallowing me into his hot, wet mouth. He’s so fucking good at this. It’s not even his skill—though he is skilled, very much so—it’s that it’s him. Davis Werth. My mate. Everything with him is good because of our connection, our bond. It makes every touch electric. Each kiss a feast. Every time I’m inside him, his mouth or his ass, I feel complete. I can only imagine how it will feel when Vee is with us, too.

I shiver at the thought and at Davis’s hand sliding up to grip my balls, tugging almost painfully, but it makes me groan and lights spark behind my eyes. My hands flex on his hair before I tighten my grip and start thrusting my hips into his mouth, his throat.

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