Page 73 of Knot My Band: Part Two
“Time for sleep, angel,” Dax says, tugging her against him.
“Knot,” Oli counters, but she leans into Dax’s touch, her eyes drifting closed briefly before fluttering open again.
“Sleep, baby girl,” Jack commands softly. He pulls her against him and slips his cock in her but doesn’t fuck her.
We’re a well-oiled machine, each of us playing our part to ensure she’s comfortable, cared for, and content.
Oli nods, leaning back against the mountain of pillows as if she’s finally allowing herself to relax fully.
Dax, Jack, and Chase are already finding their spots, their movements slow and deliberate, each settling in with a quiet sigh of contentment. As we all adjust our positions, seeking comfort in the pile of blankets and pillows, I feel the steady rhythm of Oli’s heart against my chest.
My arm remains protectively around her, the weight of her body a grounding force that tells me she’s here, real, and ours.
Eyes closed, I let myself drift toward the edge of sleep. Today has been a whirlwind—a crescendo of emotion, passion, and connection. And there, at the center of it all, is Oli. Her laughter, her fire, her light. She’s the melody that’s been missing from our silent song, the piece that makes everything fall into place.
Dax
ALPHA TEA GOSSIP COLUMN
OLI HART AND MEMBERS OF THE EDGE HAVE NOT BEEN SEEN LEAVING THEIR PACK HOUSE SINCE ARRIVING A WEEK AGO
June 26th
I’m half-awake, and the world around me blurs at the edges like a dream. I’m not ready to leave. There’s warmth on my chest, a pleasant weight that makes every cell in my body hum with contentment. It’s Oli, her body sprawled across mine, and damn if it isn’t the best way to wake up. I crack an eye open, and there they are—my packmates, strewn around the room, evidence of our shared exhaustion from a week immersed in Oli’s heat.
“Morning, angel,” I murmur without thinking, my voice gravelly from sleep and overuse. The guys snore softly in the background, but Oli’s heat-flushed face holds my gaze. Her rose gold waves form a wild halo around her head.
Her eyelids flutter open, revealing those bright green eyes that sing without a sound. She moves against me, instinctual and needy, and a low growl rumbles in my throat. It’s been seven days straight, but the sight of her like this still sends a jolt of desire straight to my dick.
Her body starts to move with an urgency that tells me sleep time is over. Oli shifts, her hips grinding down, and just like that,she’s riding me slow and deep. Heat spirals from where we’re connected, and my hands find her waist, guiding her rhythm.
“Fuck, omega…” It slips out, a groan of absolute pleasure. Her movements become more deliberate, each roll of her hips promising something raw and beautiful. I angle myself up into her, loving how she takes what she needs and claims me as much as I’ve claimed her.
The connection between us and how she matches my every move is a symphony better than any music we’ve created. Our bodies know each other and how to stoke the fire until it blazes out of control.
The silken glide of Oli’s body on mine sets my senses alight. Entranced, I watch as her rose-gold waves cascade over her shoulders, the sweat glistening on her skin like morning dew. She’s a vision—my vision—and the sight of her lost in the throes of passion, riding me with abandon, is more than a man can ask for.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” I rasp, my voice thick with desire, my hands sweeping up her curves to cup her breasts. Her nipples are pebbles against my palms, and she arches into my touch, a moan escaping her lips. The heat from her core envelops me, drawing me deeper into the haze of raw need.
“More, alpha… please,” she begs, and her plea strikes straight to my gut. It’s a call to the primal part of me, the alpha that craves to claim and be claimed.
I angle my hips, thrusting up to meet her every downward stroke, setting a punishing rhythm that has us both gasping for air. “You want it?” I tease, even as I’m panting, feeling my control slip.
“Y-Yes!” Oli cries out, her nails digging into my chest, marking me.
“Fuck, you don’t have to ask twice,” I growl. My language becomes filthier, each word dipped in the lust that’s boilinginside me. “You’re such a tight, hot little thing on my cock. Does it feel good? Taking all of me?”
She can’t answer, but her desperate movements tell me all I need to know.
“Need to come?” I offer, my thumb finding her clit, circling with a pressure that has her shuddering. “You gonna come on my dick like a good omega?”
“Please!” Oli’s voice breaks, her whole body trembling as she chases her climax. Her movements become erratic and desperate, grinding down on me in a feverish dance.
“Then come for me, omega.” I command, and with a high-pitched keening, her inner walls clench around me, pulsing, and I swear I can feel every heartbeat as she unravels above me.
The room is hazy with the smell of us, a tangible cloud that wraps around my senses, heightening them. Our mingled breaths and soft moans fill the space, a chorus to the rhythm we’ve created. As Oli’s body shivers in the aftermath of her orgasm, her head thrown back in a silent scream of pleasure, I can barely catch my breath.
“More, alpha,” she pants, her voice a sultry melody that hits all the right chords in me.
