Page 110 of Knot Your Business

She swallows, and I watch the movement ripple through her throat. My scent explodes around us, stronger than I’ve grown accustomed to from the lack of suppressors.

“I’ve gone off the suppressors,” I murmur.

Her eyebrow rises, and her hand flexes in my hold.

”Why?” she asks.

I shrug, and she purses her lips.

“Another place to put my money where my mouth is,” I explain. “If I’m truly done fighting, then there’s no reason for me to suppress the instincts.”

“All right,” she says.

I squeeze her hand and then open the ring box, twisting it so she can see the ring nestled between the black velvet.

“Holy shit,” she breathes, and I can’t help but smirk. “It’s beautiful.”

She takes the ring, adjusting the stacking set to her other hand and sliding the large emerald cut solitaire diamond onto her left hand like it’s an engagement ring in truth. It’s fucking perfect nestled against her golden skin, the yellow gold blending beautifully just like her other jewelry. Too much of me settles in the knowledge that there’s such a clear mark that she’s mine where everyone will see.

Her eyebrow cocks as she takes me in, her gaze seeing more than I’d honestly like.

“You like seeing me claimed?” she asks. There’s no coy undertone, just open curiosity. When I nod, she hums. “Is it you that likes it or the instincts?”

I shrug and set the ring box behind me on the coffee table. “Both. I like it. A lot. In the same way I like making sure the world knows Jasper is mine. How much of that is me being a selfish asshole and how much is the instincts? I’m not sure they’re all that separable at this point.” She twists her hand, letting the diamond catch the light. “It’s the same with wanting to bond.”

She freezes, her gaze snapping to mine. I hold back my flinch. Didn’t mean to actually bring up the thought I’ve had since fucking her in the back of the car on our way home from the fundraising event a week ago.

“I always assumed I wouldn’t bond,” she says. “Escape hatch and all that.”

“Makes sense.” I run my hands through my hair, closing my eyes to keep from making an even bigger fool of myself. I came in here to apologize, not ask for her to put out and then form an unbreakable link with me. “I always assumed the same. Don’t worry about it.”

Silence stretches between us until even I can’t stand the awkward feel of it. When I focus on her, her head is tilted, a thoughtful furrow to her eyebrows, and her hands are twisting into the hem of her simple black shirt.

“I’m not so scared anymore,” she whispers. “I had an escape hatch. I was ready to use it. I think… I don’t think I need it anymore.”

I don’t dare breathe.

Cavolo, this is not what I planned on happening, but I can’t find it in myself to be regretful.

She adjusts again, spreading her legs wider and leaning toward me, letting one hand land on my knee. Her gentle tracing of my slacks’ seam is nearly unnoticeable, it’s so light.

I palm her cheeks and run my thumb over her cheekbone, breathing in her explosion of perfume around us.

“I don’t want to hurt you again,” I murmur. “I don’t trust myself to not lose control.”

I cringe away from the admission. I’m supposed to be the one that protects, that knows what I’m doing. But I’ve never fucked an Omega off the suppressors before. And fucking with possibly bonding? My cock aches, and I feel the haze of the rut fluttering around the edges of my mind.

Her eyes are wide as she nods.

“Let’s just… see what happens,” she whispers.

I press my lips to hers, keeping the kiss soft and exploratory until she shifts in her seat and whines in the back of her throat. Her voice washes over me, and that haze grows stronger.

“More.”

Fifty-Two

VIOLET

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