Page 171 of Knot Happening Again

I shrug, not sure how to answer. She shouldn't care. My feelings should be the least of her concerns, but that's Ophelia. Innocent. Kind. And far too forgiving. But even an angel has her limits. "It doesn't matter how I feel. As long as you're happy and safe, that's what counts."

Ophelia pins me with a look, as if she's trying to suss out any deception in my words. But she'll find none.

"Don't get me wrong," I say with a wry smile. "I'm jealous. I'll always be jealous of any other man who touches you. Especially one who leaves his mark on you. Even if he's pack. Even Rhys."

My words seem to surprise her, but she says nothing. I continue, "But I'm just glad that after all these years, you're finally getting the life you deserve. The life I should have givenyou. And I'm glad to know my pack is everything to you I should have been back then."

There's a war behind her eyes, two opposing factions I won't even try to pretend I understand. Truthfully, I don't know why she didn't tell the others to throw me out and lock the door the day we both found out who the other was. But she's not like that. And that twists the knife of guilt in even deeper. Knowing I threw away something I never deserved to begin with.

Ophelia takes a deep breath. "I want to try moving forward. All of us. Together."

"Ophelia..." I struggle to find the words. "I don't deserve?—"

"Stop." She cuts me off. "This isn't about what you deserve. It's about what I want. What we all want."

Hope blooms in my chest, fragile and terrifying. "And whatdoyou want?"

A small smile plays at the corners of her mouth. "I don't know. Things can't go bath to the way they were, but… I guess I'm willing to find out what they could look like. With a fresh start."

My eyes go wide and I realize I'm not doing a good job of playing it cool, but what's the point? She already knows I'm a fucking idiot. And now, after that incident at the press conference, a hotheaded idiot. "Well, for starters... how about a date?"

She blinks, as if surprised by that answer. "A date?"

"Once all this media circus dies down and we can go out without being harassed," I tell her. "I promise, I'll make it worth your while."

This time, the smile tugging at her lips matches the glimmer of mischief in her eyes. "A date," she muses thoughtfully. "Okay. I want to see who you are now, Leon. The man you've become."

"I'd like that," I say softly. "More than you know."

Ophelia's smile widens. "Of course, if you want to start making it up to me sooner..."

I tilt my head, not sure what she means, until she shifts, spreading her legs beneath the blanket. My mouth goes dry as her scent hits me—clean and sweet, with an undercurrent of arousal and the recent heat that makes my head spin.

"I'm not willing to let you come," she says, her voice low and husky. Just in case I needed any confirmation that she wanted me in here while the others were fucking her to torture me. "But if you think you can control yourself... you're welcome to taste. And prove you can be worthy of fucking me again."

For a moment, I'm sure I'm dreaming. But Ophelia's gaze is steady, challenging. Daring me to prove myself.

"Are you sure?" I ask, my voice rough with need. "What about the others?"

She rolls her eyes. "They know I'm up here with you. We've talked about this, Leon. We're all figuring it out together."

I nod, unable to form words as she pushes the blanket aside, revealing smooth, pale skin. I move between her legs, breathing in her intoxicating scent.

"Remember," Ophelia says, a hint of steel in her voice. "You don't get to touch yourself."

The corners of my mouth tug upward as her enticing scent calls to me, beckoning me deeper. "So you were torturing me before."

"Of course," she says, as if it should be obvious, spreading her legs a little wider. She reaches between her legs and spreads her pussy open with her fingers, impossibly compounding the temptation. "And a part of me just wanted to be surrounded by my whole pack."

Those words strum a cord buried deep within me. She considers me her pack, too. Fuck, I don't deserve it, but I'm not going to give her reason to doubt it.

I intend to start slow, but I bury my face in her pussy instead, like a man starving. And that's exactly what I am. Starving for her. After those first few ravenous licks that elicit a moan from her, making her hand fall away, I manage to restrain myself to teasing licks and gentle kisses. Ophelia sighs, her fingers tangling in my hair. The taste of her explodes on my tongue, and I have to fight to keep from growling with pleasure.

I take my time, savoring every gasp and moan I draw from her. My cock aches, straining against my jeans, but I ignore it. This isn't about me. It's about Ophelia, about proving that I can put her needs first.

Her thighs begin to tremble as I focus on her clit, alternating between broad strokes of my tongue and gentle suction. Ophelia's grip on my hair tightens, her hips rocking against my face.

"Fuck, Leon," she gasps. "Right there, don't stop?—"

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