Page 28 of Knot your Princess
She is lying on her back, her curves laid out before me. For a moment, I can only watch her, my heart swelling with love and admiration for the woman she is. She stirs, the light catching on the contour of her face, her lips slightly parted.
Taking in a deep breath, I let my fingertips lightly brush against her thigh. She gives a little gasp of pleasure, instinctively stretching her limbs as if welcoming me into her body. In response, I lean in and press a gentle kiss to the hollow of her neck, my lips tracing the tantalising path downwards.
My kisses eventually reach that sacred place between her thighs, eliciting a delighted gasp and causing her to arch her back in anticipation. I smile, my tongue tracing circles around her clit, before finally attaching my mouth and licking hungrily. She cries out in pleasure, the sound of her arousal echoing throughout the room and sending a rush of pleasure through my veins.
Licking and sucking, I enjoy the sweet taste of her arousal as she writhes beneath me. Finally, I flick her clit with my tongue and gently tug it between my teeth, pushing her further and further until she reaches the peak of pleasure. Her soft cries echo around us, her body quaking in ecstasy and her slick gushing into my mouth.
Something has changed.
She has gone beyond pleasure and straight into something primal. Her feverish skin indicates that she has blown straight past pre-heat and into full heat. The urgent rut that now pooled beneath my skin could not be denied. It was time for us to fully join in that most intimate of dances, the one that would bring us closer together.
Groaning as I feel the knot at the base of my cock throbbing to inflate inside her, I murmur, “Sugar,” before I tongue fuck her slowly, trying to calm this thing down before we both combust with the flames of our passion. Sliding two fingers inside her, I pull my mouth back and look up at her in absolute rapture. She is writhing on the bed, desperate for a climax to strike, and I want to give it to her, even though I know she is using me. This has nothing to do with me but the fact that I can give her a knot which she needs to draw her heat back before it becomes too much for her to bear, incapacitating her. I wanted it to be more, but I’m not a fool.
As much as it hurts, I can’t walk away.
I won’t.
She can use my body to ease her discomfort, but it won’t stop me from falling head over heels for her.
It’s too late, anyway.
I fell the second she purred at me in the van.
ChapterTwenty-Three
Cain
“Cesca,” Quinn murmurs to his wife before she lays me out flat and eats my face off.
Yeah, I get why he jokes about that now. She is a fucking hellcat. The fire in her flies against everything an omega should be, she rises above it, and that makes me extremely cautious and a little bit suspicious. It’s almost like she has alpha qualities yet is hiding in plain sight as an omega. Does Quinn know about this? Or suspect, at the very least?
“I wish I knew,” I say, needing to say something. “We got split up in the fucking gallery.” I give Francesca a powerful glare, not giving a shit now. Quinn is going to kill me regardless, so I might as well go down with my fists flying.
She hisses at me, hooking her fingers into claws, her nails flashing wildly close to my eye.
Quinn pulls her back before the alpha inside me lashes out. Not that I would. I would never hurt a woman, but I guess he isn’t sure about that and is protecting his wife. It’s fair enough. He’s seen me kick enough heads in to know I don’t hold back.
“Start at the beginning,” Quinn says gruffly.
He’s taking this remarkably well, considering.
The calm before the storm.
He wants to hear first-hand how I lost his precious daughter before he slaughters me.
I click my fingers at Franco, Luca, and Atlas. “First off… did you know I had a brother?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.
Quinn’s eyes flick to Atlas and bore into his head so fiercely, I think he is about to set on fire from the friction.
“Who the fuck is this?” he asks me, feigning innocence.
“Did you fucking know?” I roar at him, pissed off beyond belief now, with the worry over Sophia exacerbating the problem. I want to throw a punch in his face, but that will just speed up my death, and I want to figure out if he has been keeping secrets from me for the last ten fucking years.
“Yeah,” he says with a sigh. “I knew.” He turns to Atlas. “Chris’s son, yeah.”
Atlas’s jaw is clenched so tightly, I think his head is about to explode, but that is nothing on the rage that is coursing through me. How dare he fuck with my life in this way!
“None of this matters!” Francesca shrieks. “Our daughter is missing!”
