Page 41 of Knot Your Sugar

In answer, I take his hand and lead him down the short hallway to my bedroom. Moonlight spills across the floorboards in silver ribbons. At the door, he pauses, his gaze searching mine one last time.

I nod once, and I pull him in.

What goes down is pure magic, a slow-burn dive into something molten. Cole is patient. Thorough. Each move calculated, every touch dialed in to make me lose it. His hands glide over my body, setting my skin on fire, sparking a hunger so deep it’s almost too much.

Our clothes just vanish, not ripped off but shed like they’re melting. His fingers skim my tits, my hips, my ass, his low murmurs hyping me up like I’m a masterpiece. When his lips hit that spot where my neck curves into my shoulder, sucking hard and nipping, I let out a shaky moan.

Then, he drops to his knees, spreading my thighs. His mouth grazes my folds, teasing, before his tongue dives in, hitting my clit with slow, deliberate licks that make my head spin. He’s relentless, swirling and sucking, and I’m gripping his hair, my hips grinding against his face as I moan loud enough to wake the whole building.

When he pushes me on my bed and slides into me, his cock stretches every inch of me. We move as one as his hips rock into me, his knot already inflating, hitting spots that make my toes curl. I cling to him, legs wrapped around his hips, nails dragging down his back as the pressure inside me crests and threatens to break.

"Elena," he groans, his breath searing against the damp curve of my throat.

I rock up to meet him, every nerve sparking, the heat inside me building fast and sharp. Then his hand slides between us, his fingers rubbing my clit in tight circles, and I’m done for. My orgasm slams into me like a wave breaking open. I cry out his name and my body tightens around him as everything shatters into white heat. He follows a heartbeat later, spilling into me with a low, guttural moan, his knot locking our trembling bodies together.

We collapse on each other, spent and joined, his breathing evening out as his fingers drift lazily over my breasts, like he’s not done wanting.

"Stay tonight," I whisper, my voice muffled against his chest.

His arms tighten around me, pulling me even closer, until there’s no space left between us. "Not going anywhere," he whispers into my hair with a low rumble.

Wrapped in Cole’s arms, with sleep pulling me under, I realize I've never felt so safe.

Chapter twenty-one

Elena

Morning sunlight filters softly through the curtains, warming my bare skin as I stretch beneath the covers, deliciously sore in all the right places.

A slow smile curls on my lips as the memories of last night resurface; vivid, warm, electric. But it’s more than physical afterglow.

I feel… different.

Like something inside me is clicking into place. For the first time in years, I’m not bracing. Not overthinking or holding back. Just breathing. Letting myself enjoy, connect. Trust. With alphas no less. Remarkable ones.

My hand brushes the pillow beside me, where a little folded note rests:

Early rounds. You looked too peaceful to wake. See you soon.

– C.

The smile deepens, and I sink back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, warmth blooming in my chest.

A soft buzz yanks me out of my my blissful reverie. I reach for my phone and squint at the screen. It's James.

Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty! And don't forget the bug spray today. Trust me on this one.

Right. Today's the optional foraging challenge. I almost forgot all about it. I blame the post-sex bliss clouding my brain.

Why do I feel like there's a story behind the bug spray warning?

Let's just say mosquitoes find sweet baker blood irresistible. Don't be late!

I roll out of bed, grinning. After a quick shower and a fortifying cup of coffee, I dutifully swallow my two blue pills of DuoBlocks.Operation: Keep Hormones In Check And Crush Itis officially resuming.

I dress for a woodland romp: sturdy jeans, my most comfortable hiking boots, and a well-worn flannel shirt that has seen better days. I also sling on a backpack with my chef whites tucked inside.

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