Page 88 of Knot All that Glitters: Part 1

Hale climbs off of me, and Creed carefully slips from inside me, a gush of slick and cum splattering against the wood of the desk. I can’t move away from it, though. I can do nothing but lie here and soak it in, aftershocks of pleasure shooting through me.

I was able to talk to them, force my way through my father’s command to use my voice, to let them hear me.

The pain is inevitable.

Fingers brush over my forehead, drawing my attention to the headache building behind my eyes. “Look at me, baby girl.”

I want to. Fuck, do I want to. But I can’t. I whimper instead. “Haven,” he tries again, this time a little more urgently. “Haven, baby, open your eyes. Look at me.”

I crack my lids to find them both leaning over me, concern on their faces. But it’s too fucking bright.

The pleasure fades entirely and the thudding in my head intensifies, nearly blinding me. My eyes close, squeezed tight against the harsh light. I flinch when Hale speaks, his voice worried. “Haven, mouse, what’s wrong?”

I try to lift my hand to pinch the bridge of my nose, but the motion sends my stomach roiling and my hand flops back down. Strong hands wrestle my limp body into a sitting position. Someone slips behind me, propping me against their chest. Creed’s voice rumbles through me. “Fuck. Did we hurt her? Baby girl. Please. Please say something, tell us what’s wrong.” God, he sounds like he’s falling apart. I don’t want him to worry. It’ll pass, it will just take a bit.

“Migraine,” I grit out through the pain and the nausea. “Happens when I test the limits of a command.”

Hale’s hands cup my face and his lips press into my forehead, so gently, so softly. “You didn’t just test those limits, mouse, you broke them. So fucking good to hear your voice.”

Creed squeezes me tighter against his chest. “What do you need, omega?”

“Dark. Painkillers. Sleep.”

“We can do that,” Hale says, slipping away from me. “Take her upstairs. I’ll see what Tic has on hand.”

The motion of Creed lifting me into the air, his steady gait, makes my stomach lurch and my mouth water unpleasantly. I swallow it back as he climbs the stairs, lips and eyes clamped shut, taking deep breaths through my nose, but as soon as he steps into my bedroom, it’s like my body knows it’s near a toilet.

“I’m gonna be sick,” I gasp out and his footsteps speed up.

“It’s okay, baby girl. I got you. I‘ve always got you.”

Creed positions my weak, trembling body in front of the toilet, holding my hair back with one hand and stroking soothing circles between my naked shoulder blades with the other.

He murmurs words of encouragement and praise the whole time. Which, let me tell you, is weird to have someone say you’re doing a good job vomiting your guts out. But I don’t think he really comprehends what he’s muttering. He probably thinks I don’t really comprehend it, either.

He sticks with me through it until I’m spitting just saliva into the toilet. Then he flushes it down, scoops me up and carries me to the bed. I make a weak protest, something about brushing my teeth, but he doesn’t listen. Just slides me between cool sheets, stroking my hair back from my face, wiping the tears from my still closed eyes.

The sound of approaching footsteps, the clink of a glass against the bedside table. “Is she okay?” Tic asks in a whisper, and even that is almost too loud.

Creed hums, his fingers pressing into my temples in a gentle circle. “She’ll be okay. This is the aftereffects of her breaking a command.”

I can’t see him, but I imagine Tic’s eyebrows jump in surprise at that. “She broke it? I didn’t think that was possible.”

I lick my lips and make my raspy voice work. “Anything is possible, Atticus.”

He blows out a relieved breath. “Love hearing you say my name, angel. Love hearing say anything.”

I crack open one eye and find the room dark. Very dark. The blackout curtains pulled shut, all the lights off. Creed and Tic are just more splotches of black in the shadows.

Tic’s fingers brush over my forehead. “Can you sit up for us? Just to take some pain meds?”

“It hurts,” I mutter, without even trying to do as he asked.

“I know, angel. This is going to help, though. It’ll make the pain go away. Okay?”

I take a deep breath and brace myself against the agony in my head. Both of them reach to help drag me up against the headboard. Creed braces me while Tic holds out two white pills I can just barely make out in the dark. “Open.”

“What is it?” I ask.

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