Page 95 of Knot All is Forgiven

I grab the bottom of my tank and pull it off, my eyes never leaving Simon's. Watching them widen with shock and excitement is a heady, powerful feeling. His hands brush delicately up my sides, stopping before he can palm my breasts.

"Can I?"

The thing about Simon asking is that I know he wouldn't if I said no. He wouldn't pout or make me feel guilty like Henrik used to. He'd back off and not say another word about it.

"You can," I whisper, resting my arms behind me to push my breasts into the air. The second the words leave my mouth, he's rolling my nipples between his fingers, rubbing and kneading my soft flesh.

"Pants off," I command. He immediately stops what he's doing and strips down to a pair of tight, red boxer briefs. I can see his cock straining against the front already, and I fight back a whine at the sight.

He kneels back in front of me, and I press my lips to his. "Good boy," I mutter against his lips.

"Oh, fuck," he says in a breathy tone. "Why is that so hot?"

He is an expanse of flesh before me that I ache to explore, and I am tired of holding myself back. With a quick shove, I push him to his back. He bounces on the soft surface of my nest, and as I lord over him, I think of all the ways I can make him beg for my forgiveness.

No time like the present.

I hook my fingers in the elastic of my shorts and push them off, taking my panties with them.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chants, trying to sit up. I place my foot on his sternum to keep him down. "Please, Jordan, I need to touch you. I need to taste you."

Slick pools between my thighs, and I'm sure it glistens on my skin, a result of the overwhelming need I feel for him. His fingers trace my legs, but he doesn't get far.

As I look down at my green-haired Alpha, a wicked smile curls on my face. "What is it you want, Simon?" I coo. "Tell me what you want."

"I want to worship you," he says breathlessly. "I want to speak promises and love into your flesh. I want to taste your desire and meet it with my own. I want to join our bodies together so you can see how seamlessly we fit together. I want to trace every inch of you with my tongue, leaving no part of you wondering if I am yours forever."

My breath catches in my throat, and it's an effort to ask, "And what do you need?"

"I need your forgiveness. I need your love." His eyes drift closed to hide the glimmer of tears, but one slips out of the corner. "Peaches, I will never be worthy of you, but I am selfish enough to pretend I am. I need you, Jordan."

His words crack the glass enclosure I built around my heart.

I'm done fighting. Done holding onto this anger and resentment.

"You can have me, Simon," I say, slipping down to my knees and pulling his face up with my hands. "I've been yours since the beginning."

This time, when we kiss, it is slow and passionate, a gentle caress of our mouths that says more than words ever could.

It's not long before Simon's hands grip my hips, pulling me on top of him. My legs fall to either side of him, and my bare core rests atop his hard length, the thin fabric of his underwear all that is keeping our skin apart.

He pulls my hips forward and then pushes them back, rocking and grinding me against his cock as we kiss. My eyes roll behind my eyelids at the sensation, and I break my lips from his.

"Fuck me, Simon," I pant.

"Not yet," he replies, gripping my hips harder. "I haven't appropriately apologized yet." He lifts me swiftly and pulls me over his face. I balance precariously on my knees, looking down at his lecherous grin. "Sit, Jordan. A queen deserves a throne."

Oh, fuck.

He doesn't need to ask me twice.

I drop down onto his lips, his nose immediately pushing up against my clit, and my hips immediately rock into his touch. He flattens his tongue and laps me up, a groan shaking his chest when he tastes me for the first time. Simon grips my ass, his fingertips digging in so tightly I'm sure the bruises left behind could be used to unlock his phone.

His tongue spears into me as I rotate my hips slowly, using his strong nose to chase my pleasure. My fingers find my nipples and pinch and pull, but I still feel like something is missing.

When the realization hits me, I reluctantly wrench myself away from Simon long enough to turn around before sitting on his face again and bending at the waist.

My hands grapple at his hips, and he wiggles them in an attempt to help me pull down the boxer briefs enough to free his dick. When I finally get it in my hands, my eyes widen.

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