Page 84 of Reckless: Chaos

“Not yet.” His thumb circles harder as his thrusts gain force. “Want you desperate first. Want you mindless with need before I knot you properly.”

The crude words from his usually controlled mouth make heat flood me. He feels it, smirks against my throat.

“Like that? Like hearing how badly I want to breed this sweet body?” he thrusts inside of me, the wet sounds echoes around us and driving me higher.

The pressure builds impossibly high as his knot stretches me further than before. Just when I think I can’t take anymore, he stills completely.

“You’re not ready,” he says, voice strained with control. “Not yet. Need to train you properly first.”

“Please,” I beg, trying to move against him, but his grip holds me immobile.

“Soon.” His promise comes dark and heavy. “Going to take my time training you to take my knot. Make sure you’re desperate for it.” His thumb circles my clit faster. “But for now...”

He starts moving again, shallower now, his knot teasing but never quite breaching. The denial mixed with pleasure has me seeing stars.

“Come for me,” he commands. “Show me how good you can be without my knot. Prove you deserve to be trained.”

The combination of his words, his touch, and the promise of more sends me over the edge. He follows immediately after, filling me with his release even as his knot pulses just outside where I need it most.

When awareness returns, he’s still holding me against the wall, both of us trembling.

“Next time,” he promises against my throat, “I won’t stop.”

He holds us there for a moment, still joined, his thumb stroking gentle patterns on my hip—such a contrast to his earlier dominance. When he finally eases out of me, the loss makes me whimper.

“Shh,” he soothes, but doesn’t set me down. Instead, he carries me to the bed, laying me against the cool sheets. “Let me take care of you.”

He disappears briefly, returning with a warm cloth. The gentle way he cleans between my thighs makes my chest tight. Makes everything so much harder.

“You’re thinking too loud,” he says, tossing the cloth aside before sliding into bed behind me. His arm bands around my waist, pulling me back against his chest. “Stop planning.”

“I’m not?—”

“You are.” His lips find the spot behind my ear that makes me shiver. “Already trying to figure out how to run after promising to stay.”

“Ryker...”

“Sleep,” he orders, though his voice holds that same edge of command from earlier. “We’ll discuss your terrible plans in the morning.”

But as his breathing evens out behind me, all I can think about is how much harder he just made betraying them all.

And how much I want him to stop me when I try.

Chapter 18

Finn

Numbers have always beenmy sanctuary. The precise measurements of a perfect cup of coffee. The exact temperature water needs to reach before breaking surface tension. The careful calculation of how many hours until the next beta falls to Sterling’s virus.

I adjust the grinder to exactly 3.5 seconds per cup, letting the mechanical whir cover the sound of my thoughts. Above me, the pack moves in their predictable patterns—a dance I’ve memorized over years of observation. Jinx’s door remains closed, his usual dawn patrols abandoned for whatever darkness last night stirred in him. Theo’s music bleeds through walls, Chopin speaking the words our omega can’t voice.

And from the basement...

My hands don’t shake as I measure the coffee into the filter. Don’t betray how the numbers still echo in my mind—twenty-three confirmed deaths, possibly twice that unreported. I’ve always been good at hearing what others miss. At calculating odds others prefer to ignore.

The first drop of coffee hits the carafe just as Ryker emerges from below. He carries satisfaction in his shoulders but shadows in his eyes. The combination sets off warning bells in the partof my brain that never stops analyzing, never stops planning contingencies.

“She’ll need food.” He doesn’t specify who. Doesn’t need to. We’re all orbiting the same star lately, waiting for it to either warm us or burn us to ash.

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