Page 5 of Knot Your Romeo

He thrusts hard. “That’s it. Let me in.”

I can’t do anything but let him take me. His pheromones are making it hard for me to think of anything but him fully inside me. But when his cock thickens and I’m sure I’m not getting his knot, I push against him, working my pussy over his length until his knot is pressing against every nerve ending.

“Fuck!” he snarls as he thrusts. His knot bumps once again against my opening and he stills.

“I’m…” I buck against him. He flattens his tongue against my neck, and I moan as another climax hits me harder than the last two.

And when his knot presses through the resistance and he fucks into me harder, his face contorts as hot cum fills the condom, and we lie in silence for a few moments.

He presses his hands either side of my head and stares at me. “So fucking good. If you weren’t so young, I’d keep you.” His tongue darts out, licking my bottom lip.

“I’d keep you if you weren’t so old.” The words come out harder than I expected.

When I wake, my heart sinks because I know I’m alone.

The bed still smells like him—his expensive cologne mixed with his sweet but somehow manly scent.

I roll over, my hand feeling where he slept, already knowing his side is cold.

When I reach for my phone on the nightstand and check the time 9:47 am; a piece of paper drops onto the floor. First, I check my cell, which shows three missed calls from Mom and a text.

Mom: Picked up the car. See you this evening.

My fingers unfold the note.

Emmie. I had to catch an early flight. Last night was incredible. You’re incredible. Take care of yourself. B

On the nightstand, I notice a stack of twenties. I count four hundred dollars. There’s also a business card for an upscale spa.

The money makes my cheeks burn. I hope he thought I could use a little pampering before starting my new life. But it feels like payment, like I’m something he bought for the night.

I shove the bills back onto the nightstand with the note and stumble toward the bathroom, needing to wash him away and forget last night ever happened.

I know that’s not going to be easy, but as tomorrow is the start of my new life, I have to remember that last night was just a beautiful mistake.

And when I catch sight of myself in the mirror—hair wild, lips still swollen, marks on my neck that will take days to fade—I can’t bring myself to regret anything.

Beck gave me something I didn’t know I needed. For one night, I was someone’s good girl. Someone’s priority. He took care of me, and I never knew how much I’d like that. For once, someone thought I was worth taking care of.

Even if it was just pretend.

3

Emmie

The morning sun filtersthrough the sedan’s foggy windshield as Mom travels the winding country road, her knuckles white against the steering wheel. I’ve been staring out of the passenger window for the past hour, watching endless pine trees blur into a green haze while my mind is tangled with memories of Beck’s hands, his voice calling me “baby girl,” and the way he disappeared without a trace.

My throat feels raw from holding back tears. It’s ridiculous really. It was one night. That’s all it was. One perfect, impossible night with a man whose surname I don’t even know.

“Almost there, sweetheart,” Mom says, her voice carrying that forced brightness she’s perfected since she married my stepfather. But her shoulders have softened and her voice seems lighter. Maybe she escaped for herself too. “According to the GPS it’s just over this hill.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

The car crests the hill, and my breath catches.

“Jesus,” I whisper, then immediately clap a hand over my mouth. “Sorry, Mom.”

Silvercrest Manor spreads before us like something from a gothic novel, ivy-covered stone walls. The late afternoon sun dazzles on the diamond-paned windows, and the surrounding gardens roll away toward dense forest in every direction. It’s beautiful and imposing and completely overwhelming.

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