Page 92 of Knotted

“How heroic,” she says, kissing a line across my chest. “You make it sound like my problem.”

“Itisyour problem. You’re a certified sex maniac. And I’m warning you—if you don’t feed him now, there will be hell to pay. You’ll be desperate and horny, and there’ll be nothing left for you to play with but a shriveled-up beef stick.”

Before I can even blink, her hand snakes under the sheets, wrapping around me, firm and teasing. A sharp breath escapes me as she squeezes.

“He seems pretty plump already,” she purrs, her voice like a warm shot of whiskey, and damn, I love it when we’re like this. Fun and playful, and so hot I swear I’ll lose all self-control if she keeps this up.

“Jules,” I groan, gritting my teeth. “Get up here.”

I want more. Ineedmore. Coming in her hand? Polite pass. I can tackle that on my own.

My girl does what she does best. Tortures me. “What do you want, Mr. Bishop?”

“You.”Always. Forever.“Up here. Now!”

But she just grins, sliding lower, her breath ghosting over me. “Shh,” she whispers, her lips hovering just an inch from launching a full-on attack on my sanity. “You said it yourself—we don’t have time.”

I open my mouth to argue, but the second her lips wraparound me, warm and slick, whatever words I have vanish. Along with my willpower. And every last brain cell. Thinking? Not an option.

Hell, it’s taking every ounce of strength I have just to keep breathing.

Her tongue traces a slow, torturous line along my length, and I’m throbbing so hard I swear I’m on the verge of exploding.

Not just my dick. Me. Into a thousand pieces I will never recover from.

When she sucks, my eyes roll back in my head. My hands grip her hair as I groan. She hums in response, the vibration sending another shockwave of pleasure ripping through me until I’m on the edge, begging for it.

“Jules,” I rasp, barely holding it together. “Fuck. Yes. Suck it harder.”

Her hands grip my thighs as she sets a rhythm that’s damn near euphoric.

The heat, the pressure, the way she moves—it’s pushing me straight to the brink, and I’m barely hanging on.

Then her eyes flick up to mine—owning me in every way possible with just one look—and I’m done.

My body tightens, every nerve lit up like a fuse, and I’m gone. Completely at her mercy and loving every fucking second of it.

My whole body tenses with a guttural moan, and I’m done—completely undone, hard, fast, and so deep it knocks the wind out of me.

In pure Jules form, she doesn’t stop. She milks every last drop of pleasure from me, relentless, until I’m left trembling,my breath coming out in ragged bursts, completely wrecked in the best way possible.

Finally, she pulls back, a self-satisfied grin on her face as she wipes her lips with the back of her hand. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how satisfied is he?”

“Ten thousand,” I gasp, still trying to catch my breath, barely able to string a sentence together. “You overdid it.”

Her brow furrows. “Overdid it? How?”

“You sucked him dry. He needs recovery time.” I dramatically throw a pillow over my head, groaning. “Must. Sleep.”

She snickers that evil little laugh of hers, before nuzzling her face into my neck. “I’m showering,” she sweetly coaxes.

I don’t move.

“Maybe I’ll have a moment with the shower nozzle if you’re too wiped out.”

I fake a snore.

But the second I hear the water turn on, I’m on the phone.

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