Page 28 of Hard Knot

My head falls back against his shoulder, my lips parting in a desperate gasp as he presses deeper, the pads of his fingers circling a spot that makes my knees feel like water.

“This,” he continues, his lips trailing along my jaw, “this is how you should always look. Not wrapped up in shields and thorns. Just you, Elizabeth. Vulnerable, wild,real.”

My voice trembles as I try to form words, a pitiful attempt at holding onto some semblance of control.

“You—y-you can’t just say things like that.”

He chuckles darkly, the sound vibrating against my back as his fingers slip lower, testing me, learning me.

“I mean every word,” he says, his tone low and reverent. “I knew it from the moment I saw you on that stage.”

My eyes snap open, the haze of arousal momentarily disrupted.

“The stage?” I manage, my voice a soft, uneven whisper.

His movements don’t falter, his fingers finding a rhythm that makes me bite my lip to stifle a moan.

“Yes,” he murmurs. “The way you moved—so fluid, so precise. Every twist of your hips, every stretch of your limbs—it was captivating. Such beauty that needs to be acknowledged and praised.”

A flush burns its way up my neck and cheeks, both from his words and the relentless pleasure building in my core.

“How do you even know all that? I mean…it’s just one performance. You sound like you have dance experience,” I say, my words breathy and broken as my hips instinctively shift against his hand.

His lips curve into a smirk against my ear.

“Why do you want to know?” he asks, his voice teasing and laced with mischief.

I try to glare up at him, but the way his fingers delve deeper makes it impossible to hold onto anything but the pleasure coursing through me.

“Just—just curious,” I manage, my voice a soft whimper.

Curious to find out about this man who’s seemed to pop out of nowhere.

Yet, it’s suddenly his mission to unravel every bit of me.

He’s already made it so far by having his fingers deep inside me — my naked body plastered against his.

He hums thoughtfully, his fingers sliding out only to glide back in, dragging over every sensitive spot like he’s been studying my body for years.

“Do you want me to show you?” he asks, his tone dropping, each word a challenge. “There’s not much space in this shower, but if you’re thinking of a particular move…”

A surprised laugh bubbles out of me, shaky and breathless.

“You’re ridiculous,” I whisper, though the corners of my lips twitch into a smile.

“Am I?” he murmurs, his voice darkening.

His fingers slip deeper, and the shift in angle makes my back arch, my breath catching in my throat as a cry tears free. Every muscle in my body tightens as he begins to move faster, his strokes firm, deliberate, and devastatingly perfect.

His free hand roams up my side, pausing to palm my breast, his thumb teasing the sensitive peak. My head tips back against him, my vision blurring as I give in to the sensation — give in tohim.

“Carter,” I gasp, my fingers scrambling for stability against his forearm.

“Good girl,” he growls, his teeth grazing the shell of my ear. He doesn’t know how that single bit of praise is driving me far too close to an orgasm. I’ve never come this fast by just fingers.Not even my own fingers can drive me so maddeningly to a climax.“Feel it. Let yourself go, Elizabeth. Just for me.”

His words, his voice, the sheer authority laced in every syllable—it pushes me closer to the edge, my body trembling under the weight of his command.

“This—this is insane,” I whisper, turning my head just enough for my lips to graze his jaw. “I don’t—I don’t act on instinct like this. I never?—”

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