Page 164 of Down Knot Out
Dominic leans down, his breath warm on my lips. “We’re still making it.”
He closes the distance between us, his kiss gentle. His hand slides to the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair, and his tongue traces the seam of my lips. I open to him with a soft sound that gets lost between us.
My hands find his chest, his heart a steady beat through his shirt. He walks us backward until my shoulders meet the wall, his body a line of heat against mine.
When he breaks the kiss, he swallows thickly. “I never stopped wanting to be with you. But I needed you to choose us on your own terms. No pressure, no obligation.”
My fingers work on the buttons of his shirt. “I choose you. I’ll keep choosing you.”
I lean forward to press my lips to the hollow of his throat, where he tastes like salt and smells like home. His hands find my hips, pulling me closer until our bodies align. The hard length of him nudges my stomach, and heat pools between my legs in response.
His mouth trails down my neck, teeth grazing the spot where my shoulder meets my throat, and I arch into him, seeking more contact.
With a rumble of desire, his hands slide under my thighs, lifting me in one smooth motion. I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me to the bed, our mouths never parting.
The mattress dips beneath us as he lowers me onto the cool sheets. His weight settles over me, and through our bond, his desire mirrors my own, amplifying it, creating a feedback loop ofneed that has my skin humming with anticipation.
“Chloe,” he breathes against my lips.
I pull him closer, drawing him into the shelter of my body, ready to create something new from the ashes of our past.
I sweep my palm over the bare planes of Dominic’s chest, his heartbeat thundering beneath my fingers. His breath catches when I trace the line of dark hair that disappears beneath his unbuttoned jeans. The ring on my finger catches the lamplight, sending prisms dancing across his skin.
“You’re beautiful,” I whisper, watching goose bumps rise in the wake of my touch.
His fingers find the buttons of my blouse, undoing each one. “Says the woman who stopped my heart the moment she walked back into my life.”
Electricity charges the air in the room, raising prickles of awareness along my spine. When my blouse falls open, Dominic’s eyes drop to the curve of my breasts, the rise and fall of my breath visible in the soft light. He pushes the fabric from my shoulders, his knuckles grazing my collarbone.
I reach for him, sliding my hands up his arms to his shoulders. His skin burns beneath my touch,feverish and alive. He unclasps my bra with practiced ease, drawing it down my arms until it falls forgotten to the floor.
His breath fans warm across my breast before his mouth closes over my nipple. A gasp escapes me, my fingers threading through his hair to hold him there. His tongue circles the sensitive peak, teeth grazing, and pleasure sparks straight to my core.
“Dom.” My head falls back. “Please.”
His mouth finds mine again, the kiss deeper now, hungrier.
His hands map the curve of my waist, the flare of my hips, leaving desire in their wake. When his fingers slip beneath the waistband of my pants, I lift my hips to help him slide them down my legs. The cool air of the room raises goose bumps on my thighs that he chases away with the warmth of his palms.
His mouth charts a path down my body, kissing the hollow of my throat, the curve of my breast, and the sensitive spot below my ribs that makes me squirm. When he reaches the jut of my hipbone, he looks up at me through the fringe of his lashes, his eyes dark with desire.
Gaze held, his tongue finds my center, and my world narrows to the point of contact. Heat spiralsoutward, my fingers clutching at the sheets as pleasure builds. His name falls from my lips, a mantra, a plea.
When the tension coils tight enough to snap, he pulls back, leaving me gasping. His slacks join the pile of discarded clothing, and he moves back over me, the hard length of his cock on my thigh.
Fingertips dimpling his skin, I tug him closer. “I need you inside me.”
He kisses me, swallowing my words. His hand slides between us, fingers testing, finding me slick and ready. When he pushes one finger inside, my hips buck up to meet him, seeking more.
He groans. “You feel incredible.”
Reaching between us, my fingers wrap around his length to guide him. He hisses through his teeth at the contact, muscles tensing beneath my touch. Slowly, he presses forward, the stretch perfect as he fills me.
“Alpha.” My back arches off the bed. “Dom.”
He stills with his hips flush to mine, breath coming in ragged pants. Through our bond, his restraint, the thin thread of control he clings to, shudders. I roll my hips, and his breath catches.
“Move.” I wrap my legs around his waist. “Please.”
