Page 46 of Knot So Sweet
I lean down. My hand slides from her waist up to cup the side of her neck. My palm settles against warm skin, thumb brushing along the line of her jaw. I can feel her pulse racing under my fingers. Fast. Unsteady. Matching the rhythm of my own heartbeat.
My other hand tightens on her hip. Fingers pressing into soft flesh, feeling the give of her body under my touch. I can feel her trembling, small shivers that run through her whole body. Feelhow she leans into me, rising up slightly on her toes, seeking more contact even as she waits for me to close the distance.
Her hands slide up my chest. Palms flat against my shirt, feeling the rapid beat of my heart underneath. The touch burns through the fabric, sending heat racing through nerves. Her fingers curl slightly, nails dragging just enough to steal my breath. Just enough to threaten my control.
"I've never been more sure of anything."
That's all the permission I require.
I close the distance and kiss her.
Not gentle. Not testing. Hungry and desperate and everything I've been holding back for weeks. Everything I've been denying myself since the moment she walked into my restaurant with her laptop and her shy smile and her incredible way with words.
She kisses me back just as fiercely. Her mouth opens under mine immediately, inviting me in. Her hands slide up from my chest to my shoulders, fingers digging into muscle like she's afraid I'll pull away.
Not a chance.
I deepen the kiss. My tongue slides against hers, tasting, exploring, claiming. She tastes like the wine she had with dinner and something uniquely her. Something sweet and ideal that ignites hunger. Ignites craving for everything.
My hand on her neck slides into her hair. Soft strands tangle around my fingers as I grip gently, tilting her head back further to give me better access. She produces a small sound against my mouth, somewhere between a gasp and a moan, and the noise goes straight through me. Straight to alpha instinct.
Mine. She's mine.
Her scent blooms stronger. Mixing with my own until the kitchen carries us. Coffee and cedar and vanilla and honey alltwisted together into something entirely new. Something that smells like pack. Like belonging.
Like mine.
My hand on her hip slides lower, gripping tighter. Pulling her even closer until there's no space left between us. Until I can feel her breathing. Feel tremors that run through her body. Feel spikes in her scent when I kiss her deeper.
She rises up on her toes, trying to get closer. Trying to eliminate even small differences in our heights. Her hands are everywhere now. In my hair. On my shoulders. Sliding down my back. Demanding. Taking.
I guide her without breaking the kiss. Her back hits the prep counter and she gasps against my mouth. The sound draws a growl from me, low and possessive, pure alpha satisfaction.
I break the kiss just long enough to look at her. To take in the sight of her against my counter, flushed and wanting and ideal.
Her lips are swollen from my kisses. Red and slightly parted as she pants for breath. Her cheeks are pink, color spreading down her throat. Her eyes have gone dark, pupils blown so wide there's barely any blue left. And her scent saturates the air until I'm drunk on it. Intoxicated by pure omega desire mixing with satisfaction.
"You're so beautiful," I murmur, my voice rough.
She produces a sound that might be a laugh or might be a sob. Her hands come up to frame my face, thumbs brushing over my cheekbones. Her palms burn against my skin, fever-warm and insistent. "So are you."
I kiss her again. Slower this time but no less intense. Savoring instead of devouring. My hands slide up her sides, feeling the soft curves of her body through Garrick's shirt. Touch blooms her scent stronger. Caresses steal her breath. Movement presses her closer, seeking more contact, more pressure, more everything.
Her hands tug at my shirt. Pulling at the fabric, trying to get it off. I help her, reaching back to grab the collar and pull it over my head in one smooth motion. Toss it somewhere behind me. Don't care where it lands. Can't focus on anything except her.
She traces the lines of muscle with her fingertips. Maps the ridges of my abs. Slides up to my shoulders and down my arms. Learning me. Claiming me with touch. Her fingers leave trails of heat everywhere they go, burning through my skin, stealing my breath with passes.
I let her explore. Let her look. Watch her face as she takes in details. How her eyes go even darker. How her breath comes faster. How her scent keeps intensifying, getting richer and warmer with passing seconds.
"Your turn," I murmur.
My hands find the hem of her borrowed shirt. I wait, giving her a chance to say no. To change her mind. To stop this before it goes any further.
She lifts her arms without hesitation.
I pull the shirt over her head slowly. Revealing inch by inch of soft, pale skin. She's not wearing anything underneath, and the sight of her steals my breath. Erases thought except one.
Perfect. She's absolutely perfect.
