Page 52 of Hard Knot

But thinking isn’t what I’m doing right now.

“Define quickie,” I ask, my voice breathy yet teasing, as my gaze locks on his.

He doesn’t answer with words.

Instead, he leans in, capturing my mouth with his in a series of short, intoxicating kisses. His lips are soft, addictive, and each kiss pulls me further under his spell. His hand tangles in my hair, cradling my head as the kiss deepens.

A moan escapes me, unbidden, reverberating through the small space, and I feel the answering tension in his body.

His other hand moves with intent, fumbling slightly as he works the buckle of his belt. The metallic clink barely registers over the rush of my own breathing and the pounding of my pulse.

“Can I really ride you in here?” I ask, my words muffled against his lips, though the teasing note remains.

He pulls back just enough to speak, brushing his lips against mine.

“You can do whatever you want, Abbie. Especially since you know this car better than I do.”

Fuck…

There’s something about a man acknowledging you in a way you’ve never expected that makes you want to be a submissive cunt. As long as it reaps some good-ass rewards.

I’ve always thought I’m too stubborn and wild to submit to anyone, but here I am, acting like a horny fool in this man’s car, ready to actually ride him like my life depends on it.

I flush at the nickname, heat rushing to my cheeks, but I don’t pull away.

His grin widens, all confidence and fire, and it only stokes the flames licking through me. He’s smug, infuriating, and so damned magnetic that I can’t resist.

Giving in to his tempting opportunity, he kisses me once more, his hand trails down my back, finding the curve of my hip. He grips me there, pulling me closer until I’m climbing and straddling him. The black skirt I’m wearing rides up as I settle onto his lap, the heat of him pressing against me making me ache with need.

The way he doesn’t hesitate to grip my bare ass, massaging it with possessiveness while he plays with the fabric of the panties that I’m rather thankful for being a thong-type design.

Just because I’m an Omega doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy flirty panties.

He breaks the kiss we’ve been prolonging for what feels like forever, pressing his forehead to mine as his breath mingles with mine.

“You’re so fucking addictive,” he murmurs, his voice rough and filled with raw desire. I tilt my head, my curiosity and arousal mingling dangerously.

“What do I smell like to you?”

I can’t deny that I’m actually curious about that.

He doesn’t hesitate.

“Vanilla. Honey. Something darker...like blackberries. And a little bit of spice, similar to cinnamon. It heightens and mingles well with your shampoo and body wash, too.” His voice drops lower, sending shivers down my spine. “Or maybe I’m just a bit too smitten for you, Abbie.”

His words take my breath away, and I capture his lips again, kissing him with a fervor I can’t control. My hands slide under his shirt, my nails lightly scraping against his skin. The way he always responds to me almost effortlessly — the rumble of a growl that plays against his chest only empowers me further. He shivers under my touch, and the power that gives me is intoxicating to grasp because it makes me want to do more.

To be dominant and experiment with things I doubt I’d ever have the privilege to do with any other Alpha.

Most are too revolved around being manly and in complete control of their pleasure to be submissive at the idea of a woman leading the way to their climax.

Wonder what Carter would let me do to him?

“If you don’t mind riding me real quick so I can think straight before meeting Holmes, that would be great,” he half-growls against my mouth.

I pull back just enough to raise an eyebrow at him.

“You weren’t thinking straight?”

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