Page 51 of Knotting on Heaven's Door

Ada:You’re welcome. Don’t break anything.

She was awake. That made something in my chest stir. I tapped my fingers against the screen. Thought about leaving it at that. I should have. But I didn’t.

Me:Can’t make any promises. The mug with the cat in a chef hat is already staring at me funny.

Her typing dots popped up immediately.

Ada:If you break that mug, I will break your face. It’slimited edition.

I grinned.

There she was.

Me:So you do have a violent streak. Noted. Kind of hot, not gonna lie.

Ada:Don’t test me.

I bit back a laugh and shifted onto my side, phone warm in my hand. I could feel the danger of it—the slippery slope. The way she responded when I pushed, even just a little.

And because I was a dumbass with zero self-preservation when it came to her, I went further.

Me:One small thing, though. That couch still smells like you. You know… omega scent. Pretty strong.

There was a beat of silence. No typing dots. No reply.

I stared at the screen, heartbeat picking up.

Me:Not complaining. Just thought you should know before I end up in a rut and disgrace myself on your throw pillows.

This time, the dots returned.

And fuck, my skin buzzed with anticipation.

Because if she replied—if she bit back instead of backing off—then I knew I wasn’t the only one lying awake tonight… haunted by the ghost of something that still lingered between us.

Ada:Disgracing yourself already? It’s only been what—two hours since you got the thing inside your apartment? That’s gotta be a new record, even for you.

I smirked, the kind of slow, knowing grin that settled deep and warm in my chest. There she was again—sharp tongue,smart mouth, and absolutely no idea how fucking dangerous it was to poke at me like that.

Me:You say that like you’re not the one who handed me the weapon. You knew exactly what you were doing when you gave me that couch. Smells like you. Feels like you. Hell, Ada—it is you.

There was a pause.

Long enough for my wolf to growl low under my skin, tail twitching, ears locked on the silence. She was thinking. Debating. Tempted.

Ada:It’s just fabric, Sebastian. Don’t get all alpha possessive on me.

Me:Too late. I’ve already got your scent all over my sheets. Don’t blame me if I wake up hard and dreaming about how you sound when you come.

Typing dots. Stop. Typing dots again.

Come on, Ada. Bite.

Ada:Maybe you should stop fantasizing and try getting some sleep like a normal person.

Me:Can’t sleep. Your scent’s too distracting. Every time I close my eyes, I remember how soft your thighs felt wrapped around me. And how you moan...

Another pause.

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