Page 95 of Pack Frenzy
The knot swells at the base of his cock, stretching me until I can barely breathe.
I feel impossibly full, stuffed to the edge of breaking, every pulse locking us tighter.
The world tilts.
It’s not just physical—it’s like a door opening inside my chest, flooding me with sensations that aren’t mine.
His pleasure slams into me, layered over my own until I can’t tell where I end and he begins. Fierce protectiveness. Raw need. Something that tastes like mine—safe, home.
Every throb of the knot pushes deeper, every pulse sends another wave through my body until I’m shaking from it.
Now I understand why Omegas go ga-ga after Alphas knotting in them.
Because I canfeelhim now—not just his body, but the weight of what this means to him. To us.
He stays there, buried deep inside me, his chest heaving, his breath ragged, and I can feel the weight of him, the heat of him, the power of him, and it’s overwhelming, intoxicating, fucking addictive.
The room smells like us—storm, salt, sweat, and something that wasn’t here yesterday.
“You’re mine,” he growls, his voice low and possessive, and I believe him, because in this moment, with his cock buried deep inside me and his knot keeping us locked together, there’s no doubt about it. I’m his, body, soul, and every shuddering breath.
His hips still, and the bond between us flares hot and unyielding, locking us together.
“Fuck,” he breathes, and his voice breaks on it. “Jess, I?—”
He doesn’t finish. Instead he buries his face in my neck, and I feel the shudder that runs through him, the way he holds me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear. The knot pulses where our bodies meet.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper, surprising myself. My fingers thread through his hair, holding him close. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
When he finally lifts his head, his eyes are suspiciously bright. He kisses me instead of speaking, and I taste everything he can’t say.
I take a deep breath, letting the scent of us fill my lungs.
It’s strange how this feels so right, so natural. Like every chaotic piece of my life has been leading me to this moment, to this man, this pack.
Cassian’s thumb continues to brush the mark on my throat, sending shivers down my spine. Possessive, sure—but the tenderness under it is what gets me, stupid and soft in the chest.
The knot keeps us joined, pulsing, steady. Connected.
Rain drums against the windows, but the thunder is softening. His fingers trace idle patterns on my shoulder, following the path where his mark blooms along my neck—thumb gentle, almost worshipful.
I should feel exposed, vulnerable, embarrassed by how much I just revealed.
Instead, I feel safe. Seen.Wantedin a way that has nothing to do with my body and everything to do with who I am beneath all my defense mechanisms.
I smile against his mouth, surprising myself. “Guess I’m yours now.”
He huffs a laugh against my skin, breath warm and steady. “News to you?”
“Maybe I’m a slow learner.” My voice cracks on the words, and his arms tighten around me.
“Then I’ll teach you.” He kisses my throat. “Every day. However long it takes.”
And for once, instead of arguing, instead of building walls, or deflecting with snark or humor, I let myself believe him.
CHAPTER 22
ELI
