Page 52 of Knot Her Fight


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“Alpha!” I cry.

His cock kicks against my core, hot slick seeping into his tight, black underwear. I can feel his knot, full of scorching blood, beating like a separate heartbeat.

The rhythm in his chest is even faster when he grazes his pecs over my nipples. My own heart leaps into overdrive, thrashing like it’s trying to fight its way out of my chest and to him.

He brings his face back to mine. Our eyes lock, his filling with that smoldering softness he only seems to possess when I look right into him.

The entire universe stops as those plush lips finally find mine, brushing in teasing tastes before dropping into a slow, delving kiss. His tongue strokes deep, smooth, and hot against mine. I taste his smoky flavor and swallow it down, moaning in desperation when he pulls back slightly.

“I’m going to take care of you,” he promises, voice dropping low. “And then I’m going to fuck you as hard as you’ll let me.”

Yeeeeeeeees.

I whine and buck, grinding myself against his cock. He roughs out another snarl, slipping his hand over my hip, the blunt nail of his thumb scratching a line along the crease of my thigh.

I’m aching. Melting. Whimpering and moaning and squirming so hard under him, I’m surprised it doesn’t hurt.

Or maybe it does. Maybe that’s why his eyes have glazed over with pleasure and pride.

“Such a perfect little kitten,” he grits. “You gonna give me those claws?”

When I sink my nails into his shoulders and drag them down his chest, he rewards me by settling his huge hand over my pussy and grinding the thick ridge of his cock into my thigh.

The wet boxer briefs clinging to him give me quite the preview. Surprising texture rubs through the damp fly, but I can’t focus on it for long because two strong fingers push between my lower lips.

The second his thumb skims over my clit and his other fingertips breach my opening, I scream. The orgasm is quick and brutal, a flash of white that’s too quick for me to do anything more than bite down on the hard flesh of his shoulder.

He grunts, hips stuttering. Instead of stopping, though, he keeps skirting my pussy, teasing me with one fingertip at a time. “You needed that one,” he rasps. “Let me give you more.”

Some of my heat-spike haze has burned off. Enough for me to look up at him and feel the tears that gather in my eyes at the fervent, focused look in his.

A name rings through my mind like a bell and comes out of my mouth without permission.

“Avery.”

Feeling explodes through my chest—so confusing but completely all-consuming. The strength of it terrifies me, but it flows into all the cracks streaked through my soul, soothing and electrifying at the same time.

It’s scary. I’ve never felt anything like this. To have come on so fast, so completely… How can it possibly be real?

One of my tears escapes, and he catches it, licking at my cheek gently. I didn’t think it was possible for him to be any sweeter to me, but then he nuzzles my nose.

“I know,” he husks. “I know, baby. Me, too.”

Could he possibly mean that he feels all of this?

It seems that way. Especially when he rolls us onto our sides a moment later. Hitching my bent leg over his hip, he starts to push his boxers off, giving enough of a glimpse for me to wonder just how far down these tattoos go.

A thick swallow sticks in my throat. I’ve seen a lot of alpha cock. Way too much. And none of it from anyone I knew or liked.

For a second, I’m afraid of myself. What if this amazing guy takes his underwear off and I freak out? Will I hate it? Feel as ambivalent about it as I did all the assholes at the club?

Avery definitely isn’t shy.

Two seconds later, he lifts his other hip to whip the black boxers off. Settling onto his back without hesitation, staying close but giving me a bit of space to process everything I’m seeing.

And I do mean everything.

Because holy. Shit.

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