Page 26 of Knotting else Matters

I slipped out of bed, the cool air brushing against my bare skin, and I wandered into the bathroom, twisting the shower handle until a warm cascade of water burst forth, steam already clouding the mirror.

I stepped in, letting the heat wash over me, soothe the pleasant ache in my muscles. But before I could fully lose myself in that quiet, lazy warmth, the glass door swung open, and Adrian stepped in.

His tall, solid frame filled the space, water trailing down the sharp, defined lines of his chest, the intricate, swirling wolf tattoo on his bicep seeming to come alive beneath the mist. Even his ink looked smug, damn him.

“What are you doing?” I snapped, my hand instinctively pressing against his chest. “We agreed. Just the night.”

“Did we?” He leaned in, water streaming down his dark hair, those piercing eyes meeting mine with a faint, infuriating smile. “Because then I heard you moaning my name last night… again… and again… and I decided to extend the terms.”

“Extend the—” I burst out laughing, but there was a nervous, breathless edge to it. “Oh, please. You wouldn’t last. You’d drown in chaos.”

“Try me.”

His expression didn’t change, that calm, steady intensity fixing me in place as he stepped forward, the warm spray of water falling around us, and his hands found my waist, pulling me against him. His lips caught mine, hot and hungry, his fingers slipping into my wet hair, tilting my head back, deepening the kiss.

“Adrian—” I gasped, but his mouth swallowed the rest, his hands sliding lower, gripping my hips, pressing me against the cool, wet tiles.

“I like a good challenge,” he whispered, his lips tracing a slow, burning path along my jaw, down the side of my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin.

I couldn’t stop the shiver that raced through me, the low, needy sound that slipped past my lips.

“Of course you do,” I muttered, trying to keep my voice steady, even as his mouth traced lower, his hands sliding over my wet, heated skin.

“Plus,” he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble, “there’s one thing I love about chaos.”

“Yeah?” I whispered, my voice a desperate, breathless challenge. “What’s that?”

“I love it when it’s on its hands and knees in front of me,” he whispered, his voice dark, rough, hungry, “begging to come again.”

My breath caught, my pulse racing, a wild, desperate heat crashing through me. His hands gripped me, firm, possessive, and I felt my knees weaken beneath the weight of his touch, his words.

And I knew I was lost.

“Fine,” I whispered, my fingers clawing at his shoulders, pulling him closer, my mouth finding his again, a fierce, hungry kiss. “Extended terms. But don’t blame me when you can’t keep up.”

He laughed, that low, rough sound that sent a thrill racing through me. “You’ll wish I couldn’t keep up.”

And then his hands were everywhere—tracing the slick, wet heat of my skin, his mouth capturing mine again, fierce, consuming, his touch demanding and possessive.

Chaos and control. Wild and ordered. I didn’t know who I was in that moment, but I didn’t care. Not with the way his hands claimed me, the way his body pressed against mine, the way his voice slipped into that low, commanding growl that made my entire world shatter.

Steam clung to the bathroom mirror, swirling and fading as Adrian and I stepped out of the shower, his arm still wrapped around my waist, his lips trailing one last teasing kiss along my shoulder. I laughed, shoving him playfully away, and he caught my wrist, pulling me back against him, his wet hair dripping onto my cheek.

“Careful, chaos. Keep smiling like that, and I’ll start thinking you actually like me.”

“Oh, please.” I snorted, wriggling out of his grip and grabbing a towel, wrapping it around myself. “Like you? That’s a stretch. I just appreciate the free room service.”

“Room service?” He chuckled, rubbing the towel over his hair. “Funny. I thought I was the one serving you all night.”

“Modest too.” I shot back, and he laughed again, that low, warm sound that seemed to wrap around me like the steam still curling in the air.

I was just pulling on a fresh pair of jeans and a loose white shirt when a sharp, rapid knock echoed from the door.

“Liv! Liv, are you awake? It’s me, Sophie!”

“Shit.” My heart jumped into my throat. “Why is she here so early? We agreed to meet for lunch around one—”

“It's one fifteen.” Adrian’s voice was infuriatingly calm, and I turned to see him already slipping into his pants, his shirt hanging open, revealing the sharp lines of his chest. “Maybe you should work on your time management.”

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