Page 62 of Knot Their Arrangement

I take a shaky breath, trying to fight against my own conditioned response to feel shame, to feel small under their intense scrutiny. My fingers curl in my lap, nails pressing against my palm as I dare to meet Damon’s eyes head-on.

“Why doesn’t he find out for himself?” I whisper, my voice quiet but steady.

The air around us tightens, thick with tension, the charged kind that coils in my stomach and makes my skin prickle with anticipation.

I brace for his reaction, for anger, for punishment, for something cruel. My cheekiness would never have been tolerated before, and my heart slams against my ribs as I prepare for the worst.

But Damon just grins.

A slow, dangerous grin that stretches across his face like he’s won something.

“Oh, mia principessa,” he muses, his fingers reaching out to grasp my chin, tilting my head up. “That was a very bold thing to say.”

He leans in, his nose brushing against mine, lips so close I can feel the heat of his breath against my skin.

Then, with deliberate slowness, he captures my bottom lip between his teeth, giving a firm tug. It’s just enough to sting, a sharp pinch of pain that turns into something electric, pleasure coursing through my veins like a drug.

My breath catches, a soft, barely-there moan escaping me, and I swear I see his pupils dilate at the sound. His grip on my chin tightens, and then he whispers against my lips.

“Say it again.”

My lashes flutter, my body igniting at the demand.

“Louder,” Damon orders, his voice huskier now. “So Kieran can hear.”

My heart pounds, my pulse thrumming beneath my skin as I fight the instinct to shrink back. I don’t want to back down.Not this time.I’m not sure where this boldness is coming from, but it burns inside me, demanding that I rise to the challenge.

I hold Damon’s gaze and force my voice to be steady.

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” I say again, firmer now.

Damon chuckles, the sound dark and full of wicked delight. His eyes gleam with satisfaction, as if he’s been waiting for me to push back, to play this game with him. He drags his thumb over my swollen bottom lip, his expression full of promise.

Then he kisses me.

Brutal, claiming, devouring.

A kiss that steals my breath and makes my head spin, his hand slipping to the front of my throat, fingers curling around the delicate column.

It isn’t tight, not enough to hurt, just enough to make me keenly aware of his dominance, of the sheer strength coiled beneath his skin.

I shudder beneath his touch, the rush of pleasure making my thighs press together once more. My body betrays me, answering him with eager wetness, the ache between my legs growing unbearable.

He growls into my ear, voice thick with something dangerous and heady.

“I have to admit, you’re the first Omega who has the balls to do that.”

A slow, breathless laugh escapes me.

“Balls are weak and fragile,” I counter, my voice husky. I gather the last bit of my courage and whisper, “Pussies can take a pounding.”

The moment the words leave my lips, Damon stills. A flicker of something wild crosses his expression—approval, intrigue, something deeper I can’t quite name.

Then, he grins.

A wicked, sinful grin that promises nothing but ruin.

His thumb strokes over the hollow of my throat, and he leans in so close that his lips ghost over mine, teasing but not quite touching. The weight of his stare makes my stomach flip, my breath coming quicker.

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