Page 23 of Knot All is Crystal
He’s erratic and a little twitchy, and briefly, I wonder if he’s on something other than fizz. But I think that this may be just who he is.
I try to drink down every detail about him I can, knowing I will never see him again. He’s got to be around my age, but I can’t be sure. He has a USB drive on a necklace that bounces against his chest as he moves, and is wearing a Prism wristband.
So he wandered down here from the club level, like this wasn’t his original destination.
He interrupts my perusal of him as he strokes up and down my slit, pausing to circle my clit with every swipe. I whine, the sensation overwhelming all of my thoughts, and writhe beneath him. “Don’t tease me, Alpha,” I say breathlessly.
“Oooh, yes, call me Alpha again.” He leans down and bites my bottom lip. “Never heard a more beautiful sound.”
“Alpha,” I moan as he slips two fingers inside me. He curls them and hits the ridge his knot would lock into perfectly. I feel like I am going to explode right there, my back arching off the bed and my nipples straining against the thin lace of my bralette.
I reach a hand out to snag his briefs and pull them down, his heavy cock bouncing out of them and making my mouth water with the need to taste him. I grip him and lazily drag my hand up and down his length, fingers dancing along the veins before stopping to spread the moisture from his tip around.
He nearly purrs and thrusts into my hand. “Oh fuck, Omega,” he moans, leaning down and capturing my mouth in a possessive, desperate kiss. “If your hand feels that good, I just know this little pussy is going to put me in the ground.”
Maverick doesn’t even bother to pull my skirt off. He shoves it up around my stomach and then wiggles out of his briefs. I drop his cock as he wedges himself between my thighs. He grips his base and drags himself through my slit.
Alphas can’t get sexually transmitted diseases like Betas and Omegas can. Their enhanced healing abilities knock it out quickly. It’s a little unfair if you ask me, but at least I don’t have to tell him to stop to get a condom.
At least I get to feel him how I’m craving.
He wraps his arms under my knees and pushes inside me tortuously slow. I’m a panting, slick-soaked mess by the time his hips press against me, and I feel the full length of him.
“Fuck fuck fuck, Queenie,” he moans as he thrusts inside me shallowly. “You’re so Goddamn tight. So slick. So sweet. Candy. Smell like candy.”
He’s falling into a fizz-induced rut, clearly on a full dose, and I scream as he starts to pound into me harder. “Yes, Alpha, fuck,” I groan in his ear. “Rut, Alpha.”
The Alpha growls and drops my legs, caging my head between his hands. His hips whip into me, each thrust scraping all the best parts of me. Stars flash behind my eyes, and my brain starts to short-circuit.
I’m a fucking mess, already.
“Omega.” His voice has dropped several octaves, and his Alpha nature is riding him hard. “My Omega.”
I should correct him, but I can’t make myself deny his claim. Hopefully, he will buy the lie that the fizz tricked him into thinking I was his scent match.
“Knot, Alpha,” I whine. I start to pinch and twist my nipples, searching for my orgasm. He watches my hands, entranced, before sitting up slightly so he can rub my clit.
His fingers are clumsy. Whether it’s from the drugs or inexperience, I can’t tell, but I have to help him get his hand centered on my clit several times. When it seems like he’s lost his patience in trying to coax an orgasm out of me, he pinches my clit.
I cry out, back arching, clenching around him, and then he follows the pinch up with a light slap, and I explode. Spots creep into my vision, and I chant a nearly incomprehensible mess of his name, his designation, and the word knot over and over.
“Bite, Omega. Bite, bite, bite,” he chants, leaning down and posing his lips over the crook of my neck.
I snag him by the ears and pull his face to mine, capturing his lips. “No bite, just knot.”
As if my words permitted him, he groans out his release, and I feel his knot start to swell inside me. The pressure, along with the sinful way his tongue dances with mine, sends me into another orgasm that is going to be branded on my soul.
He collapses on top of me, panting, and rolls onto his side. The movement tugs at the knot, causing us both to hiss in pain, but eventually, we get settled.
I look into his heavy, hooded eyes.
Maverick.
The Alpha who smells like marzipan. My mom would make marzipan for Christmas every year, and I’d sneak some before it was ready, savoring the taste like it was forbidden.
And now it is.
He’s my scent match.
