Page 156 of Knot Heirs: Serenity's Reign

Footsteps.

The door opened.

And his scent hit her like a thunderclap.

Ronan.

Ronan, the one who found her. The one who ripped her from hell, who held her like she mattered, like she was his entire purpose. Earth and fire and Alpha, musky and overwhelming and perfect.

He crossed the threshold without hesitation, eyes glowing in the dim light. She didn’t need to see him clearly—her body recognized him in a thousand ways.

“Serenity,” he rasped, the door clicking closed behind him.

A needy, broken sound escaped her lips. She reached for him without thought, legs shifting open, knees trembling with exhaustion and desperation.

“Please,” she whimpered, the word a prayer, a plea. “It hurts. It hurts so much.”

“I know, Omega,” he said, shedding his jacket, boots, shirt in practiced motions. “I’ve got you now. I’m going to take care of you.”

She trembled violently as he lowered himself into the nest. The moment his hands touched her, everything inside her shattered.

Her scent exploded in the air—ripe, slick, feral. Ronan groaned, eyes flashing. “You’re burning up, baby.”

“I can’t—” she gasped as he kissed her throat, his tongue laving the gland pulsing under her skin. “Ronan, I can’t breathe. I need?—”

“I know what you need,” he growled.

His mouth was on hers then, rough and possessive, hands roaming down her sweat-slicked body. He cupped her breasts, thumbs rolling over her aching nipples, making her arch up into him with a sob. Her body moved on instinct, hips grinding up, seeking the only thing that could douse the fire.

His hand slipped between her legs.

“Fuck,” he bit out. “You’re soaked, Serenity.”

She cried out as his fingers found her clit, slick and throbbing, and rubbed tight circles until her legs trembled. Her entire body clenched, on the brink.

“Not yet,” he murmured, withdrawing. “You need more. You need to be filled.”

She nearly screamed from the loss.

But then he was above her, between her legs, his thick cock pressed against her soaked entrance. She wrapped her legs around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders.

“Now,” she begged. “Please, Ronan, now?—”

He pushed in with one powerful thrust, and she screamed.

It was too much. Not enough.

Perfect.

Her body clenched down on him like a vice, slick gushing around his thick length. Ronan groaned, burying his face in her neck as he started to move—slow at first, deep, grounding.

“You’re mine,” he growled, thrusting harder. “No one’s ever going to touch you again.”

“Yours,” she gasped, legs locked around him. “Yours, yours, yours?—”

The rhythm built, the sound of skin on skin loud and primal. The nest around them seemed to close in, trapping them in scent and need and belonging.

Her first orgasm hit her like a hurricane.

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