Page 66 of Knot Their Arrangement

"No one will disturb us until we’re done," he assures, his voice thick with promise.

The way he speaks those words with confidence makes my skin prickle, my nerves dancing between excitement and intrigue. I look between them, my heart galloping wildly as my mind scrambles to piece together the implications.

"Why?" I ask slowly, licking my lips. "Does it have to do with…" I hesitate before adding, "Damon snapping his fingers?"

Damon hums in approval, his smirk deepening.

"You’re quite observant, Kamari," He leans in and presses a lingering kiss against my temple before he leans back to admire me. It was the first time hearing my name slip out of his lips, leaving me wishing to hear it again and again.

It takes a lot of restraint to not request such possibilities.

His hands move to his dress shirt, the one I had so eagerly torn open earlier, and he slips it from his shoulders, placing it neatly to the side.

The sight leaves me breathless while my eyes greedily prepare to take him in, inch by inch. My gaze trails over him, drinking in the sculpted muscles that ripple beneath his tanned skin. Every bit of him is sheer perfection, chiseled and strong, yet there isn't a single tattoo adorning him.

A surprising contrast to the dangerous aura he exudes.

The sight obviously proves he’s well in shape, but what I deeply appreciate is that the display proves he takes care of himself. You’d be surprised by how many Alphas go to the gym to show off more than they do to maintain and continue to be fit and healthy, but Damon’s physique and confident glow prove he commits to maintaining his outward appearance for multiple reasons.

Some more “obvious” than others.

Kieran chuckles, dragging me back from my momentary trance.

"You’re staring, princess."

Heat floods my face, and the instinct to turn away makes me shift. Damon’s fingers catch my chin before I can retreat, his smirk widening.

"Don’t be shy now," he teases, his voice a velvety caress. "You’ve already stripped me with your eyes."

The warmth in my cheeks deepens, and Kieran's chuckle morphs into a low, approving hum.

"She’s adorable when she’s flustered."

Damon works on his belt buckle, his movements slow, calculated, meant to make my breath hitch with anticipation.

"There’s no way you’re leaving now," he murmurs, his gaze locking onto mine. "Not until I get a feel of you."

A fresh wave of heat coils inside me at his words, and I shift under the intensity of their attention.

"Define 'feel,'" I manage to whisper, my voice more confident than I expected.

Damon’s lips twitch, amusement flickering in his eyes as he steps closer, caging me in his presence.

"You ask dangerous questions, mia principessa," he murmurs, his fingers grazing my jaw, tilting my chin up until I’m drowning in the depths of his gaze.

The weight of his attention, the sheer dominance behind his stance, is intoxicating. I can barely think straight, my mind muddled with lust, with the sheer thrill of testing just how much control I can seize from them.

His thumb strokes over my bottom lip, and I know — I’m in trouble.

Delicious, toe-curling trouble and I don’t want to be anywhere else.

A slow, teasing chuckle escapes Kieran as he watches the tension coil between us. His fingers trail along the curve of my hip, barely there, but enough to send shivers through my core.

"I think she likes getting caught in the act," he muses, his voice a lazy drawl. "She’s getting bolder, too."

Damon hums, his lips curling at the corners.

"I like that about her. Our principessa doesn’t just surrender—she dares."

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