Page 59 of Knot My Band: Part One
I tilt my head to offer him more skin to worship and show him my vulnerable neck.
“That’s a good girl,” Jack praises.
I perfume for him.
He smirks against my skin, and I can feel the rumble of his chuckle as he continues his exploration. “You like that, huh?” His breath is hot against my collarbone.
“More than you know,” I manage to reply, my fingers tangling in his short, messy locks, pulling him closer.
His hands are on the move again, skimming down my ribcage, leaving tingles dancing across my skin.
“Your body’s a masterpiece, you know that?” he says, fingers tracing the contour of my hips with a reverence that makes my heart race. “Every curve, every line…”
“Then show me,” I challenge, the words coming out breathless.
Jack’s lips curve into a grin that’s all devilish promise and heated anticipation.
“Patience, baby girl,” he teases, but his hands are anything but patient as they tug at the hem of my top. I lift my arms, letting him strip the fabric from my body, feeling every inch of exposed skin humming under the dressing room’s dim lights. My fingers fumble with the buckle of his belt, the metal clinking.
Jack’s jersey joins the growing pile on the floor, and for a moment, I’m distracted by the expanse of his tattooed chest, muscles flexing beneath the ink.
But he doesn’t let me admire him for long; he captures my chin gently, guiding my gaze back to his piercing blue eyes. There’s a silent command there, a call to which my omega instincts respond with a shiver of anticipation.
He leans in, and his scent—coffee and buttery pastries—envelopes me, marking me in the most primal way.
“Mine,” he growls against the shell of my ear.
His mouth trails a path of heat and promise down my neck, nipping and licking in a way that has me gasping for more.
He pushes my leather skirt up so it’s over my hips and out of the way.
Jack grips my panties in his fist before tugging. They rip, and he pulls them off, bringing them to his nose and inhaling deeply.
“Fuck, omega.”
He steps between my legs, bringing his cock to my entrance and rubbing the tip against me.
“Do you want me to fuck you, baby girl? Is that why youperfumed for me on the stage?”
“Yes, Jack. Please!” I groan, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Do I need a condom?” He sounds outraged at the idea of anything coming between us.
“No, I get the shot!”
And then, there’s a new sensation—one that’s both familiar and thrillingly different. The cool metal of his piercings grazes my entrance, teasing me mercilessly before he begins to push inside.
“You’re pierced?” I ask.
“Yeah. Don’t worry, you’ll love them,” he says, smirking.
One by one, I feel them enter me, each a distinct point of pleasure that makes me bite my lip to stifle my cries.
“One…” Jack counts each piercing under his breath, his eyes locked on mine. “Two… Three…” Each number is punctuated by a deeper thrust, a perfect rhythm that sends waves of ecstasy crashing through me.
“Six…” With the final piercing entering me, I’m undone, lost in the exquisite pressure and fullness. Jack holds himself there for a moment, watching my face.
The rhythm Jack sets is relentless, a pulsing beat that matches the pounding of my heart. I cling to his shoulders, nails digging into the stiff muscles as he moves within me.
