Page 48 of Knot Ruined

I thrust forward, sinking into her in one slow, thick stretch, letting her feel every inch as I fill her completely—her opening bumps against my slightly swelling knot.

Fallon gasps, her body tightening around me, her fingers digging into my biceps. “Romano—”

I groan, my head dropping against her shoulder, my hands shaking with the effort it takes not to just fuck her into the cushions right then and there. She’s so goddamn perfect, so tight, so warm, wrapped around me like she was made for me. I grit my teeth, letting her adjust, my breath ragged as I press soft, reverent kisses along her collarbone. “Tell me how it feels, Little love.”

She whimpers, rolling her hips experimentally, her body squeezing me like she never wants to let go. “So good,” she whispers, her nails scratching down my back, leaving faint red lines in their wake. “More, Ro. I need more.”

Fuck.

I pull out just enough before slamming back in, dragging a cry from her lips that goes straight to my cock. My pace starts slow, deliberate, making her feel every inch of me as I take her apart piece by piece. She’s so goddamn responsive, so fucking beautiful like this, undone beneath me.

I watch her face, the way her brows draw together in pleasure, the way her mouth falls open, the way she can’t stop saying my name.

I kiss her, deep and slow, swallowing every moan, every gasp.

She’s mine. Mine to worship. Mine to ruin.

Her legs tighten around my waist, pulling me in deeper, and I groan against her lips, snapping my hips harder, faster.

Fallon shatters beneath me, crying out, back arching, body pulsing around me. I growl as I thrust harder and faster. Her whimpers and moans are like music to my ears. I push her into another orgasm. It feels like her pussy is trying to suck me in and never let go. I find my own release, my rhythm stuttering as I bury myself to the hilt, locking my knot inside her. She cries out my name as she comes again, dragging me with her. My cum paints her insides, filling her up. A soft calm fills me. I manage to twist us until she is draped across my chest. We stay like that for a moment, panting, bodies locked together, her fingers lazily tracing patterns against my skin. I press a kiss to her temple, her jaw, her swollen lips.

And when she finally meets my gaze, smiling like I just gave her the world—I know I’d do it all over again.

“And they say you’re the sweet one.” She teases me.

I can’t help but laugh. “I am the nicest of us, yes. That doesn’t mean I can’t ruin my wife when I want to.”

Jace

April 2nd

10:30 P.M

We were halfway through some ridiculous action movie Romano chose when Fallon suddenly shifted beside me. She pulled her feet from Kingston’s lap, swinging around to tuck them gently against Romano’s thighs. She chewed her lip for a second, clearly hesitant, before finally speaking.

“I...um. I don’t know anything about you,” she said softly, blue eyes searching our faces in turn. Her voice was barely more than a whisper, but its vulnerability was deafening. “Not really. Not who you were before me, before this. I told myself I’d wait until you felt comfortable talking, but now I think we'll hit our fiftieth anniversary, and I’ll still be clueless. So... I’m asking.”

I glanced toward Kingston first, whose expression tightened briefly before smoothing back out into something carefully neutral. He wasn’t the type to spill secrets easily, but Fallon had changed us all in more ways than we could count.

I took a deep breath, realizing this was probably the right moment. Romano gave me a reassuring nod, his hand absentmindedly massaging Fallon’s ankles in slow circles. Voss sat silently on the other side of Kingston, his face utterly blank, though I could already see the shadows forming behind his eyes.

“All right,” I began quietly. My voice came out rougher than I’d intended, but Fallon only leaned in closer, her warmth comforting me even as memories threatened to pull me under. “We all ended up in the same group home when we were kids. Different reasons, but…” I shrugged, suddenly unsure how to continue.

“You first,” Romano prompted gently. His eyes were steady and supportive. Fallon’s expression was pure openness, so sweet it hurt.

I sighed, feeling the weight of old memories drag at me. “My parents died when I was ten. Car accident. But... it wasn’t the tragedy everyone assumed.” My gaze dropped, throat tightening. Fallon reached out, her fingers brushing against mine, grounding me instantly.

“They weren’t good people,” I admitted slowly, forcing out words I'd never shared aloud. “They were...abusive. Physically. Emotionally. You name it, they did it. It wasn’t a home—it was a hell. When they died, I didn’t even cry. I was relieved. The state put me in the group home after that, and even though it wasn’t paradise, it was safe. It gave me Voss.”

Voss snorted humorlessly, his eyes distant, haunted. Fallon’s gaze softened toward him. “You came next?”

“Yeah.” Voss’s voice was calm, almost detached. He leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees. “My parents were monsters. The kind you only read about, except it was my life.” His eyes lifted slowly to Fallon’s. “They liked to hurt me. Torture me, lock me in small spaces for days, and leave me hungry and bleeding. They broke me in ways I still haven’t fixed.” He laughed darkly, bitterness threading every word. “That’s why I’m fucked up, Fallon. I’m not wired right. Too much was taken from me.”

Fallon looked stricken, her eyes glistening. “Voss…” she started, but he shook his head softly, his expression gentle for once.

“You asked,” he murmured, voice thick. “But it’s okay. I’m used to living with ghosts.”

“Kingston and Romano arrived last,” I interjected quietly, giving Voss a chance to pull himself back from the edge. “King came from money, but his parents were cold as ice. Didn’t want anything to do with him.”

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