Page 83 of Reckless: Chaos

“You want that?” His voice has gone darker, rougher. “Want me to knot you? Fill you up until you’re dripping with it?”

“Please,” I gasp as his knot catches again, stretching me just enough to make me tremble.

His grip tightens in my hair. “Not yet. First, you need to learn to take it properly.” He slows his thrusts, making each one devastatingly deep. “Going to work you open slowly. Train this sweet body to take every inch.”

His other hand leaves my clit, making me whimper at the loss. But then his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me back against his chest without breaking his rhythm.

“Feel how deep I can get like this?” He grinds against me, his knot pressing insistently. “How perfectly you’re made to take me?”

Each thrust makes his knot catch more, the stretch burning so good I can barely breathe. His teeth find my shoulder, not quite breaking skin.

“Next time,” he promises against my skin, “I’m going to have you on your knees. Watch you present for me like a good girl while I work you open.”

The image makes me clench around him, drawing out a growl.

“Like that idea?” His hand slides up to my throat. “Being trained to take my knot? Learning to beg for it?”

The pressure builds with each thrust, each catch of his knot threatening to push me over. But just as I near the edge, he stills completely.

“Not yet,” he commands when I try to move. “We’re just getting started.”

He withdraws suddenly, the loss making me cry out. But before I can protest, he’s turning me again, lifting me with ease.

“Wrap your legs around me.” The order comes sharp as he pins me to the wall. “Show me how badly you want my knot.”

I comply immediately, and he rewards me by sliding through my wetness, teasing. His knot feels bigger now, pressing against me with each roll of his hips.

“Please,” I gasp when he continues to deny me what I need.

“Please what?” His eyes are almost black with desire, but his control holds. “Tell me exactly what you’re begging for.”

“Need you inside me. Need—” I break off as he pushes just the tip in before withdrawing.

“Need what?” His voice drops lower, dangerous. “Say it. Tell me what you need.”

“Your knot,” I admit, heat flooding my cheeks. “Need you to fill me up. Make me take it.”

His growl vibrates through both of us. “Good girl.” He starts pushing in again, slower this time. “Going to give you exactly what you need. Train this sweet body to take every inch of my knot. Make you mine.”

When he bottoms out this time, his knot stretches me wider than before. The burn walks that perfect line between pleasure and pain, making me dig my nails into his shoulders.

“That’s it,” he encourages as I adjust to the size. “Take it like you were made for me. Made to be knotted. Made to be bred.”

His hips start moving in a rhythm designed to drive me insane—shallow thrusts that let his knot tease my entrance before pushing deeper each time. My head falls back against the wall, and he immediately takes advantage, mouth finding my throat.

“Look at you,” he murmurs against my pulse. “Fighting so hard to stay in control. To be good.” His next thrust comes harder, making me cry out. “But we both know what you really want.”

“What’s that?” I manage, though my voice shakes as his knot catches again.

He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, and the possession there steals my breath. “To let go. To stop fighting. To let me claim you completely.”

To prove his point, he changes the angle, hitting deeper. Each thrust now has his knot pressing more insistently, threatening to stretch me wider than I’ve ever taken.

“Fuck,” I gasp as pleasure coils tighter.

“Language,” he scolds, though his voice has gone rough. “Good girls ask permission before they swear.” His hand slides between us, finding my clit. “Just like they ask permission before they come.”

The dual sensation of his fingers and his knot has pressure building impossibly fast. “Please?—”

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