Page 48 of Knot Your Business

I turn away from him and mess with the coffee, pouring the water even though it’s not quite boiling. His hand is soft but unrelenting as he cups my chin and forces me to look over at him, his body a wall of heat at my side. His eyes are intense, the easy laughter gone from them, their blue depths searching me so thoroughly I’m nearly positive he can see all the way to my fucking soul.

“You never brought someone back here?” The question is quiet but fervent.

I blow out my breath and try to break his hold. We might have found common ground last night, but this is too much for me to reveal in a single twenty-four hour period, no matter who he might be to me. His hold tightens, his hand slipping from my chin to my throat, his thumb and finger finding the small spots where my blood heats faster than I can control. His eyebrow rises as my scent explodes around us, betraying my arousal, but I force myself to remain impassive.

When the silence stretches between us, he crowds me into the counter, seamlessly moving us until his hips press into my belly.

“I’ll give you a truth for a truth,” he murmurs. Lightning shoots down my fucking spine, my knees weakening at the rasp of arousal in his voice and his dick pressing into me.

“You first, then,” I whisper.

He nods. “I haven’t touched a woman. Not since you.”

My surprise is even stronger than my arousal, rushing through me in one great wave.

“What?” I can’t keep the question from falling from my lips.

He raises an eyebrow, his fingers tightening the smallest bit on my pulse points. Fuck me. Honeysuckle grows stronger around us both, and he smiles, his eyes lighting with a mischievousness I’ve never seen before. When the hell did he learn to do things like this?

“Tell me, Violet,” he murmurs, dropping until our lips barely brush. “You never brought someone here?”

I shake my head, my body trembling under his touch. “N-no.”

Fuck me. Even my voice shakes.

He breathes deeply for a heartbeat, his eyes fluttering closed. “Why?”

“You first,” I mutter.

“Because every time I tried, all I could think and feel and hear was you, and it was too painful.” His response is immediate. Pain weaves through his voice, so strong, it’s nearly palpable. “You were the last woman I touched. And will be the last one I ever touch again.”

I force myself to swallow, trying to clear the lump in my throat, trying to remember how to talk. Something that feels terrifyingly close to love spreads through my chest until I’m struggling to breathe past it. He drops his hand, running his fingers along my arm until he takes my hand in his confident grasp.

He doesn’t say anything, the silence stretching between us.

“It was never worth someone seeing them with me and then having to deal with my mom,” I admit softly. His mouth brackets with tension, but he doesn’t interrupt me. “There wasn’t ever a person that I felt was it for me. And letting them into my nest was too intimate.”

He groans, low and nearly mournful, and then his lips are on mine and he’s lifting me onto the counter. He steps between my legs, letting his free hand bury in my hair as he runs his tongue along my bottom lip.

“Move in,” he whispers as he pulls away, palming my knees, his chest shuddering with his breathing.

I force another swallow and glance away from him. Logically, I know it’s the best idea. Move out is this weekend, and I really don’t want to have to make that stupid apology that my mom will require for me to access enough money to live on my own in this city. But moving in means giving up a certain amount of control, of having a harder time accessing an escape route if Dominic decides to fight the match.

Will he fight the match? With Jasper and Rylan both approving of it?

Jasper’s gaze grows worried, his lips twisting into a frown. “What’s wrong?”

“Just that voice,” I manage to whisper. He nods and kisses my forehead, his lips soft and warm.

My eyes catch on the silver chain of his necklace. I trace it before I can think better of it. The pendant pulls free of his shirt collar, falling onto the fabric, and my breath catches in my throat.

It’s a small silver Omega symbol, simple and elegant. No flashy stones, no over-the-top secondary pendants to detract from it. I twist it in my fingers, and a small engraving catches the light. I lean forward, trying to read what it says. Jasper’s hand tightens on me as he runs one palm down my thigh and around my hip. His heart beats so fast, I can see it in his throat.

Until the end of time.

“This was it?” I ask.

He nods, his throat rippling with a swallow. “I don’t really know why I kept it. Or why I wore it.”

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