Page 31 of Knotted By the Demon

My cock throbbed against the confines of my boxers, aching to be freed, to be touched, to be hers. I swallowed hard, trying to push back the surge of need, but it was a losing battle. The more I watched her, the more I wanted her. Her presence, her scent, her everything—it called to me in ways I’d never experienced before.

The room was thick with steam and arousal, and I felt like I was drowning in it. But it wasn’t suffocating. No, it was intoxicating, like being submerged in a pool of her essence, her scent wrapping around me, claiming me even though she hadn’t touched me. My hand twitched at my side, my restraint slipping as my need for her threatened to consume me.

Through the glass, I saw Sofia turn, her eyes meeting mine briefly before she smiled. It wasn’t a coy smile or one meant to tease. It was soft and inviting as if she knew how badly I needed her here with me. She wanted me to feel it and wanted me to know I wasn’t alone at this moment.

My throat felt tight, my body trembling as I took a step closer to the stall, drawn to her like a moth to a flame. She tilted her head slightly, her wet hair brushing against her shoulders, the droplets falling in a hypnotic rhythm. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think beyond the overwhelming desire to be closer, to join her, to lose myself in her completely.

“Sofia...” Her name left my lips in a hoarse whisper, a prayer, a plea.

My omega howled inside me, begging for her, needing her. Desperately wanting this Little Beta. My scent filled the room,mingling with the steam, wrapping around us both as I inched closer. Closer to the stall. Closer to her. Closer to surrendering entirely. But then the fear hit me again, hard and unrelenting, like a fist to the face.

Each step I took closer to the stall caused more memories of the shed to claw at my mind like nails dragging down my spine. My heart hammered against my ribs, the rhythm erratic, my breathing shallow. The air felt too thick, the walls of the bathroom too close, like they were pressing in, threatening to suffocate me.

I clenched my fists so tightly my nails bit into my palms, the pain sharp enough to keep me tethered to the present. I wasn’t there. This wasn’t the shed. This wasn’t them. Sofia’s soft humming reached me, cutting through the static in my brain. The sound was an unexpected melody I didn’t recognize, light and sweet, weaving through the air like a lifeline.

It pulled me, steadied me, whispering that I wasn’t alone. My gaze drifted back to her, to the way her body moved under the spray of water. Droplets cascaded down her pale skin, catching the light, making her glow like something ethereal, something forbidden. I swallowed hard, my throat dry, my chest tight.

I was with Sofia. She wasn’t Nathan. She wasn’t Natalie. And I wasn’t the same Greek I’d been under their control. I was free. I took another step forward, my feet leaden but moving, drawn by her. Her hum was my siren song, and I’d gladly crash through my fears to get to her.

I stopped just short of the stall, my breath hitching as my trembling fingers reached for the door handle. The smooth metal was cool under my palm. I could feel the slight vibration of the water running behind the glass, each droplet striking like a soft drumbeat beating in tune with my heart.

“Whenever you’re ready, Greek,” Sofia said, her voice low and free of judgment.

That tone, so soft, so damn understanding, wrapped around me and held me together when I felt like I might splinter. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I stood there, hand on the handle, watching her like a man possessed. The curve of her neck, the arch of her back as she tilted her head into the stream of water, it was hypnotic.

Droplets slid down her collarbone, rinsing away the suds, catching on her breasts, tracing paths over their rosy peaks, peaks I wanted to flick my tongue over. The droplets dipped between the valleys of her body, drawing my gaze lower. Hunger rose within me. She was bare, completely bare down there.

I could see her clit, the pink flesh glistening with droplets of water. My tongue darted out to wet my lips, and I wanted—God, I wanted—to drop to my knees, to press my mouth there, to suck and swirl my tongue around her until she was trembling and crying out my name.

“Eyes up here, Little Rabbit,” Sofia purred, and my gaze snapped back to hers.

There was no malice, no mockery in her tone. Only teasing warmth, like she wanted me to look, wanted me to feel this desire that was thrumming through me like an electric current.

“You can only look down there if you join me in here,” she purred.

Her words sent a jolt through me, melting some of the fear that had rooted itself so deeply inside. I wanted to join her. I wanted to feel the heat of the water on my skin, to feel her against me, to let go of the cold and filth of my past. My fingers tightened on the handle, my breath catching as I wrestled with the war inside me.

I placed my other hand against the glass, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat building inside me. Sofia placed the soap and used towel on a nook in the shower, then moved closerto me and pressed her palm to the other side of the glass, her hazel eyes meeting mine through the haze of steam.

Her skin was flushed from the heat, her lips parted, her breath fogging the glass between us. Her hand was much smaller than mine. The glass was the only thing preventing us from touching or holding hands. We stood there, separated by a thin pane, our hands mirroring each other.

My omega stirred inside me, practically vibrating with need, with longing, urging me to move, to cross the barrier, to claim what was waiting for me. Her. Us. I couldn’t speak. I could barely think.

I just stared at her, chest heaving, every muscle in my body tight and coiled, ready to break free of the chains of my fear. I could do it. I knew I could. For her. The words Sofia spoke next felt like a lifeline tossed into the ocean of my fear, her voice a beacon cutting through the storm that raged in my head.

“They no longer have power over you, Greek. You’re free, physically. You can be free mentally, too. But it won’t happen overnight. It takes small steps to get there. I’ll stand beside you, and when you’re ready, I’ll hold your hand and take those steps with you. If you want me to.”

My throat tightened, her words stirring up my longing to embrace the freedom she described. To be truly liberated from those who only wanted the worst for me. I’d escaped them, but I hadn’t escaped the cage they’d put me in. It was time to truly step out of that basement, the one in my head, the one still holding me captive.

“I’m ready,” I whispered, though the tremor in my voice betrayed my confidence.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” she replied.

I shook my head, clenching my fists at my sides. “I want to be ready. I need to be ready. I’m tired of being afraid. I want to be free.”

Her lips curved into a smile so beautiful it made my chest ache. She stepped back, her movements cat-like and sensual, even when she wasn’t trying to be. She continued moving backward until she’d pressed herself against the wall of the stall, making room for me.

“Whenever you’re ready, Little Rabbit.”

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