Page 55 of Believe it or Knot

My hands fist in his shirt at his sides, pull him closer, tilting my head back farther to give him greater access to my mouth. He moans into me again, one arm looping around my shoulders to press me tighter to his body. Closer than we’ve ever been before. I let out a whimper when the hard ridge of his cock meets my soft stomach.

“See what you do to me, biscuit,” he murmurs against my jaw, trailing kisses over my skin as his hips grind into me. “See how fucking hard you make me? Been aching for you all day. Especially when you swallowed down that omega’s cock, his cum.” He bites at my pulse point, nips the skin so there’s a sting, but not enough to make me bleed. Fuck, I think I want him to, though. Want him to bite me, mark me, claim me as his. I whine, and he chuckles. “You like the idea of that, Sorrel? The idea of driving your alpha crazy while you play with an omega?”

“Yes,” I whisper before I can really even comprehend what I’m saying. But it’s the truth. I love the idea of Gage watching me go down on Liam, getting hard and achy, needing release. Another low, filthy chuckle from him as he sweeps his hand down my side to palm my ass, fingers digging into the butt cheek exposed by my shorts. I guess they might have been bordering on inappropriate, like he said.

“Of course you do. You like being watched, don’t you? Like being a little fucking tease in your short shorts, making every man look at you, want you.” He drops his head and licks a stripe up the side of my neck with a groan as he grinds into my soft belly. “I swear to fuck I almost killed about twenty assholes today for looking at what’s mine, imagining climbing between these thick as fuck thighs.” As he says the words, he lifts me, parts my legs, and wraps them around his hips. I whimper when I settle over the hard length of him, the perfect pressure on my aching core.

My arms wind around his shoulders as my head dips to steal another kiss from him. I’m vaguely aware that we’re moving, but don’t really understand where until I land on the soft surface of my mattress. How did I not even realize he was bringing me upstairs?

It doesn’t matter. My hands reach for him, needing his weight on top of me, and he comes immediately, stretching out over me like I’ve imagined a hundred, a thousand, a million times before. My knees bend on their own, welcoming him into the cradle of my hips as he grinds into me.

His mouth takes mine in another deep kiss, tongue tasting, teeth scraping over my bottom lip. His hands slide up my torso under my shirt until he meets the barrier of my strapless bra. A grumble from his chest as he yanks it down, freeing my tits to his touch.

I moan as his thumb rolls over the tight bud of my nipple, arching into his touch, urging him to give me more, to take more.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful, Sorrel. Just like fucking this. Lips swollen from my kiss, tits pushing into my hand, eager to give me more.”

I nod. “Yes. I want to give you more,” I murmur against his mouth. “I want to give you everything.”

The words should shock me, after all this time of holding so tightly onto them, years of keeping them tucked into my heart, that they fall so easily from my lips. He pulls back to look down at me, brow furrowed, and I brace myself for him to deny me, to tell me this isn’t going where I hope it will.

Instead, he gives a sharp laugh and a shake of his head, like he can’t believe it. “I’m an asshole.” He drags his tongue over my jaw, down my neck. “I know I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve you to give me everything, but if you’re offering, I’m going to fucking take it.”

“Please do,” I whisper.

Another growl from his mouth and then he’s moving, yanking off my clothes left and right, baring his chest to me as he reaches over his head to yank his t-shirt off. Our mouths meet, frantic, eager to get closer to deepen this connection that we’ve always had. I hook my fingers into his belt loops. “These too.”

A blink later he’s naked and stretched out next to me running a reverent hand from my neck down between my breasts, over the soft swell of my stomach and to the spot between my legs where I’m aching for him, cupping my pussy in this hand possessively.

My own hands touch him with a similar possession, running over the dips and valleys of his hard body, stroking over his muscles until I reach the rigid length between his legs.

Gage is fucking huge.

Bigger than anyone I’ve been with before. My eyes widen when I try to curl my fingers around it, and they don’t meet. I shake my head. “That’s… You’re not gonna fit.”

He laughs, kisses my shoulder, then groans when I give a timid stroke over his shaft. His hips jerk toward me. “It’ll fit, biscuit. I was made for you and you were made for me. I’ll fit.” His fingers tighten their grip between my legs. “This is mine, and nothing is going to stop me from claiming it tonight.”

I moan as he slides his middle finger through my folds, testing how wet I am. Which, spoiler alert, is very fucking wet. “Oh, baby,” he croons. “Is this all for me? See how your body knows what it needs to do to help me claim it, getting all nice and slick for my cock.”

His use of the word slick has me tensing slightly. Slick is something omegas produce to ease the taking of an alpha’s knot. As a beta, I don’t have that ability. But he’s right that my body seems to be trying to make up for the lack. I’m dripping, something I can see when Gage pulls his finger from inside me and lifts it to his mouth.

He groans, eyes fluttering closed as he laps at my essence. “Fuck, you taste good. Need another taste.”

He moves before I can say anything, kneeling between my spread legs, hands gripping my thighs, spreading me farther as he bends and licks a stripe from ass to clit, making me yelp with pleasure as my hips kick up.

He snarls, one of his arms banding over my hips to hold me still as he licks me again. “So sweet, Sorrel,” he groans. “Better than I imagined.”

“Gage,” I pant, trying and failing to throw off his arm to press myself closer to him, to make him give me what I need. “Please.”

“Please what, baby?”

I don’t have a real answer to that question, so I say the only thing I can think of. “Please, more.”

He chuckles, the air from his laugh ghosting over my clit, just before his nose nudges it. “You want my tongue here, biscuit?”

“God, yes.”

“You want me to thrust it inside you, make you gush all over my face?”

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