Page 70 of Not Ready

He drops his cock to comply.

Once I’m on my knees, facing him, I do two things. I wrap my hand around his shaft and loop the other behind his neck to pull his mouth to mine.

He palms my ass, kissing me back as I jerk his crown against my clit.

I wish I didn’t have to pull back to breathe, but there’s no other option. “You haven’t ruined anything. And I have no experience with foreskin, so, you know, feel free to tell me if I do anything wrong.”

He grins against my cheek. “You’re perfect. You’re doing an excellent job, but I would like to slide inside you. How do you feel about doggy style? I’m concerned because my impulses are screaming at me to pin you in and rut you through the mattress. I don’t like the thought of losing myself to the fog and accidentally putting weight on the baby.”

I smile. He sounds so serious. It’s very endearing how earnest he is. “I can do hands and knees.” I peck a final kiss on his lips and turn sideways on the mattress, stretching until my hands hit the comforter.

“My God,” he murmurs, running his hands over the globes of my ass. One moves down until he can shove two fingers inside me. My hair falls around my face as he growls and removes his hand to replace it with his cock. “Ready, love?”

“Please?”

He thrusts in gently, and my walls stretch around him. The slight ache is delicious, and I moan that as he moves back to gripping the top of my ass.

“Christ, it’s been a long time. I’ve never been inside of someone without protection. You’re so hot, it almost burns, but at the same time, it makes everything more intense. I could get addicted to you, sweet little omega.” He pulls my butt cheeks forward, then back in a weird motion that makes it feel like my inner walls are massaging his shaft. “I believe I already am. My God, you’re so tight, it takes my breath away.”

My hands wobble as he really practices his strokes, but it’s the sounds he’s releasing that make everything more intense. I’m doing very little, but based on the noises, he’s enjoying it greatly.

“I’m still aching to cage you in.” He pulls out and slams home, slapping into my G-spot as his hips meet my ass. His palm lands near my head. I can’t see it exactly, no matter how much I crane my neck, but it feels like he crawls over my back or leans over it. He holds my shoulder instead of my hip, and his thrusts get deeper and more animalistic. “You’re trying to undo me. Aren’t you, love?”

I leak slick as he scratches his teeth over the top of my shoulder. A whimper escapes, and my impulses hum in delight. I really love the sound of that. His weight cages me in, and his pheromones soothe that strange yearning I’ve had since I woke up. But it’s the way his tip bounces against my G-spot that makes my arms tremble. Everything gets even more hazy as my desire builds.

“I-I’m there,” I sob out as my hair falls around my face. My tits tingle, and my core milks his shaft. He grows thicker, cursing under his breath as pleasure courses through my nerve endings. It’s so intense, it’s difficult to see with all the spots in my vision.

“Me too,” he grunts, slamming deep. It’s the first time I’ve felt his knot tease my hole, and if I could find the words, then I’d beg him to shove it inside me. My knees quake with every deep grind of his hips into mine. He grazes spots that seem to make my orgasm go on forever as his warm breath fans over my shoulder. “That’s it. Milk my cock, just like that.” His British accent is so thick, it’s difficult to understand him. Or maybe my senses are all garbled, because I’m not even sure this is reality. It’s the hazy, dreamlike state that comes when a heat hits. “Fuck, love. I’m sorry. That was a pretty dismal performance.”

I scoff because I’m very sure I’m about to collapse against the mattress.

Dismal performance?

He’s joking.

Mercy wraps his forearm under my stomach and the other just under my tits and lifts me until I’m kneeling with my back against his chest. He’s still so hard inside me. The change of angle makes me gasp, and I push up with my knees to try to escape the ache. His forearm tightens on my hip as he thrusts up, slamming his knot inside me.

We both moan.

Mercy’s entire body shakes.

My inner walls ripple around his knot as it swells, locking us together.

“I’ve never knotted anyone before. Are you okay?”

“I’m so good,” I assure him. It’s always intense, but I trust Mercy. He holds me in place, tilting my face back. It’s awkward because of the angle, but the kiss makes my insides all melty.

I love the feeling of his tongue teasing mine.

My chest pulses with a warm feeling, like pure euphoria. I’ve only had this reaction with one other person when being knotted—Bishop. That should probably scare me, but it doesn’t. If anything, it fills my entire being with giddy excitement.

Mercy pulls back, pecking my lips and palming my stomach. “I’m afraid to move, but even staying still is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.”

I can only see part of his face, and that might be a good thing. The absolute reverence is enough to take my breath away. I think I’m in real trouble where Carrigan Mercer is concerned.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Holt

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