Knot Her Shot (MVP: Most Valuable Pack Book 2)

Chapter 24

chapter

twenty-four

Where am I?

Why am I here?

And why is the alpha not naked?

I’ve forgotten just about everything. But as the gorgeous, muscle-bound alpha in front of me presses closer and reaches under my skirt, I don’t care.

He bends his neck, putting his face level with mine. I search it, trying to think. Failing, but feeling safe anyway.

I know him. He’s here for me. He’s… mine.

When I rub my cheek over his, his blue eyes snap with electric heat. The rest of his snarling expression softens. “God,” he rumbles. “You are the sweetest fucking thing, pretty girl. I want to make you feel good.”

His thumb skirts along the edge of my panties, brushing lightly, just a smidgen away from the bundle of nerves throbbing for his attention. I whine and squirm, trying to get him to touch me properly.

The alpha’s chuckle is a dark, sensual sound. “Needy girl. I love it. Want me to pet this pretty pussy, sweetness?”

My hair bounces around my shoulders while I nod, frantic. “Please, Alpha. I’ll be good, I promise.”

He grins, and it’s the single most beautiful face I’ve ever seen. “Damn, baby, Smith is going to eat you,” he says, laughing low.

Who?

What?

Do I even care?

Before I can figure out what he means, his smile takes on a feral edge. “You think you’re a good girl? I’m going to show you just how naughty you are, baby. By the time we fuck, you’ll be begging for my cum and my knot. And I’ll always give you everything you ask for.”

There must be something seriously wrong with me—because his cum and his knot sound like nirvana right now. I picture him pumping me full and knotting me deep, keeping everything he gave me right where he left it. Another high-pitched keen flies out of me.

He curses roughly. His thumb breeches the edge of my underwear, dipping into the squelching wetness at my opening. “Fuck me, Remi.”

He strokes through the slickness, groaning. The sound pierces me right where the unbearable pressure builds. I need him. His cock and his knot. I can feel both, and he isn’t giving them to me.

When my next whine sounds distressed, he hums. “Shhh, pretty girl. I’ve got you.”

His teeth clamp at the base of my throat at the same second he glides his thumb up to my swollen bud. It’s so wet, he has to press down to get any sort of friction. When he does, sensation pours through me, tightening the coil of tension pulling taut between my hips.

The tease of his bite and the rough circles of his thumb have me chasing his touch, pumping against him. He snarls under his breath, scraping his canines over my throat as he releases me. “That’s my dirty girl,” he coaxes.

He slips his touch off my pulsing clit, dipping back to tease me inside. I buck harder, crying out for his knot. The emptiness has my body clenching around nothing, and he feels it.

A roar rips out of his chest. He hitches me up higher, using the weight of his body to hold me half-propped on the countertop. His other hand fumbles with his sweats.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he pants. “If I don’t touch my knot right now, it’s gonna explode.”

My eager moan is enough to encourage him. I try to look down and see the way he’s gripping himself, but my bunched-up skirt and our torsos block my view.

He hooks both arms under my thighs and reaches toward our centers. One hand grabs the hot, thick length brushing my thigh while the other returns to my dripping pussy. He strokes over both of us at the same time, and we both pant.

“That’s it,” he roughs out, hoarse. “Ride my hand, sweetness.”

My body obeys, rolling into his touch until I feel the edges of my vision fade out. A rush of sensation floods my body, pulsing from my pussy as it bears down on his fingers. Damon feels me coming and growls, twisting his wrist to knead his knot.

Before I’ve slid down from euphoria, he has my panties fisted at the crotch. With one sharp snap, he rips them right off my body and uses them to catch his own release, flattening me into the cabinets while he jets thick white ropes into the frilly blue thong.

Pleasure softens the fierce lines of his expression, turning him from the determined alpha back into Damon.

MyDamon.

While my consciousness returns, I feel a swoop of fear. Did I just humiliate myself by letting him do that? My Omega seems thoroughly convinced that this alpha is hers… but is Damon mine?

Probably not.

He’s a famous pro-athlete, and we only just met. There’s no way he feels that kind of loyalty to me, yet. I’m supposed to be proving myself worthwhile, and instead, I’m having omega meltdowns and begging him to get me off?

I’m surprised he hasn’t already bolted.

Though, as he sweetly adjusts the skirt of my dress and brushes my hair back, it doesn’t seem like he’s desperate to escape. He doesn’t seem to be looking for the right moment to leave me or tell me I’ve failed some sort of test.

Maybe I need to give our connection more credit. They all came to get me today. That has to be a good sign, right?

I’ll just have to work harder at pleasing them. Keep my focus. Make note of everything they like and don’t like, individually.

Damon clearly likes the idea of corrupting me.

Cassian will probably have his own set of needs.

And Smith?—

Smith will never love me or want me, but surely I can prove myself useful to him in other ways. I’ll be able to impress him eventually, even if it’s just with the cleanest house or the best meals he’s ever seen.

I can do this. I can make them want to keep me.

Damon waits for my body to stop trembling before he gently places me on my feet and pulls his sweats back up. I’m disappointed not to get a better look at him, and his lopsided grin tells me he knows it.

My ruined panties wind up in one of his pockets. He whips his phone out of the other one and frowns at it for a long second before finally breaking into another smirk.

“Sweetness, I think we might be in trouble.”

My stomach drops, reality sinking in. I’ve just basically had sex. With Damon. With the door open…

Did anyone hear? Were we loud? I was so out of my mind I didn’t even?—

Damon cuts off my anxious spiral by holding his phone up, displaying about twelve unread text messages from Smith and Cassian. Or, as his phone says, “Big Hoss” and “Beastly.”

It makes no sense. I fret while we both slip out of the apartment.

Why would Smith blow up his phone? How would he know what we were doing? It’s not like he’s?—

Here.

Standing in the hallway, arms crossed, glaring furiously. And, somehow, the flagrant bulge at the front of his graphite suit pants doesn’t diminish his intimidation. It only adds to the effect.

The pack alpha holds out his hand. A demand, not a request. “We’re leaving.”