Chapter Forty-Four
Kai
S he’s still shaking.
Boneless. Slick. Stuffed full of my knot like she was made for it.
And she’s laughing.
God, I fucking love her like this.
No mask. No posture. Just wrecked, radiant, omega glow-in-the-dark chaos nestled in my arms.
And mine.
I grin like I’ve won a rigged game and lift her gently off the table, arms under her thighs and back. She squeaks, half-giggle, half-warning.
“Careful,” she breathes. “I’m still -”
“Knotted.” I smirk. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m aware. I’m the one currently acting as your very personal cork.”
She chokes on a laugh as I carry her out of the kitchen like a victorious war bride and lower us both onto the nearest couch. The cushion protests loudly, but it’s too late for that thing.
It’s already witnessed many unspeakable acts.
She ends up straddling me, flushed and trembling, sweat-damp hair clinging to her face, Lucian’s shirt clinging to absolutely nothing useful. It’s riding up so high I could press charges.
A fucking masterpiece of destruction.
She leans her forehead against my shoulder, sighs like I’m the first good idea she’s had all week. And I lock my arms around her because… yeah. That’s mine now.
We breathe together for a while. Quiet. Steady. Her scent - heat and alpha and exhaustion and satisfaction - seeps into my skin, anchoring me.
I kiss the top of her head. “That,” I murmur reverently, “was so hot I think I briefly disassociated.”
She wheezes. “You’re impossible.”
“I’m serious. I’m gonna have to put you down as my emergency contact. You’ve earned it.”
She giggles. GIGGLES. While full of knot.
I’m never recovering.
“I swear to God,” she mumbles against my skin, “you are going to be the death of me.”
“And I want it in my will that I go out exactly like this,” I say solemnly, “buried with your thighs around my head and your name on my lips.”
Her body’s warm and heavy against mine, tight around my softening knot, still twitching from aftershocks.
I shift my hips - just barely - and feel her tense.
“Don’t. You. Dare,” she hisses.
I do the exact opposite of looking innocent.
“What? I was just adjusting. I’d hate for you to get a cramp.”
“You are not allowed to be this smug.”
“And yet here I am.” I drag my hand down her spine. “Full of charm. Full of omega. Full of… oh wow, yep, still knotted.”
Eventually, the knot begins to ease. She shifts carefully, wincing, thighs shaking as slick trails down to her knees. She stands like a drunk baby deer, tugging Lucian’s stupid, traitorous shirt down over her ass like modesty hasn’t already left the chat.
“I need a shower. Possibly an exorcism,” she mutters.
I recline back on the couch, hands behind my head, cocky as hell and covered in proof that she screamed my name.
She’s halfway toward the door when I call, “Hey.”
She pauses. Turns. Suspicious. Gorgeous. Still a little wrecked.
I sit up. “I’d do it.”
Her brow furrows. “Do what?”
“This.” I gesture between us. “All of it. The mark. The bond. The whole unhinged pack alpha circus.”
She stiffens. Tries to hide it with sarcasm. “Wow. This is your idea of romance?” “Don’t need romance,” I say simply. “I just need you to know I’m in. Fully. If you want us - if you want this pack - I’ll stand beside you. Knot-deep and legal.”
She opens her mouth. Nothing comes out.
So I keep going.
“I’ll wear the mark. I’ll put up with Lucian’s hissy fits. I’ll even behave at family dinners. You just say the word.”
She swallows. Hard.
I let my grin soften. “No jokes this time, Bambi. Just the truth. Yours, if you want me.”
And I don’t wink. I don’t tease.
I just watch her feel it.