Page 183 of Knot Happening Again

I pick up the pace, driving into her harder, faster. My hand snakes between us, finding her clit. I circle it with my thumb, matching the rhythm of my thrusts.

Ophelia comes with a cry, her body tensing beneath me. The sight of her falling apart, the feel of her clenching around me, nearly pushes me over the edge. But I grit my teeth, determined to make this last.

As she comes down from her high, I slow my movements, giving her time to recover. I pepper her face with soft kisses, murmuring words of praise and adoration.

"You're so beautiful," I tell her, my voice thick with emotion. "So perfect. I love you, Ophelia. I've always loved you."

Her eyes flutter open, meeting mine. There's a vulnerability there that takes my breath away. "Leon," she whispers, and my name on her lips is the sweetest sound I've ever heard.

I start to move again, slower this time, savoring every sensation. Ophelia's hands roam my back, tracing patterns on my skin that leave trails of fire in their wake. Her hips rise to meet mine, and we fall into a rhythm as natural as breathing.

Time loses all meaning. There's only Ophelia, the heat of her body, the softness of her skin, the sweet sounds she makes as I bring her to the edge again and again.

I can feel my knot starting to swell, catching on her entrance with each thrust. The alpha in me roars, demanding I claim her, mark her as mine again. But I hold back, waiting for her permission.

"Ophelia," I pant, my control hanging by a thread. "My knot... I'm close."

She looks up at me, her blue eyes dark with desire. "Do it," she says, her voice breathy but firm. "I want your knot, Leon. I want all of you."

Her words are my undoing. With a growl, I thrust deep, my knot swelling and locking us together. The sensation is overwhelming, pleasure crashing over me in waves. I come hard, spilling inside her as my hips jerk uncontrollably.

Ophelia cries out, her own orgasm hitting her. Her walls clench around me, milking every last drop. We cling to each other, riding out the aftershocks together.

As the intensity fades, I carefully maneuver us onto our sides, mindful of my knot still locked inside her. Ophelia's breathing is ragged, her skin flushed and glistening with sweat. She's never looked more beautiful.

I brush a strand of hair from her face, marveling at the softness of her skin. "Are you okay?" I ask softly.

She nods, a small smile playing on her lips. "More than okay," she murmurs. "That was..."

"Incredible," I finish for her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

We lie there in comfortable silence, my arms wrapped around her, her head tucked under my chin. My knot will keep us tied together for a while yet, but I'm in no hurry for this moment to end.

As my heartbeat slows and my breathing evens out, I'm struck by the enormity of what just happened. Ophelia is here, in my arms, in the home I bought for her. And she chose to come here with me. To let me in. Into her body, into her heart, into her life. She's given me a second chance, one I know I don't deserve but am determined to make the most of.

"What are you thinking about?" Ophelia asks, her voice soft and sleepy.

I tighten my arms around her, breathing in her scent. "How lucky I am," I tell her honestly. "How grateful. I know I've got a lot to make up for, Ophelia, but I swear to you, I'll spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of you."

She shifts in my arms, tilting her head to look up at me. There's a softness in her eyes that makes my heart ache. "You've changed. I can see it, feel it."

Her words fill me with a warmth I can't describe. I lean down, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. When we part, I rest my forehead against hers. "I love you," I murmur. "I never stopped loving you, not for a single day."

Ophelia's quiet for a long moment, and I hold my breath, wondering if I've said too much too soon. But then she speaks, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think... I don't think I ever stopped loving you, either. God, sometimes I wanted to."

Joy surges through me, so intense it's almost painful. I kiss her again, pouring every ounce of love and gratitude I feel into it. When we break apart, we're both breathless.

"We've got a lot to figure out," Ophelia says, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest. "With the pack, with... everything. But I want to try."

I nod, understanding the weight of what she's saying. "We'll take it one day at a time," I promise her. "There's no rush. We've got the rest of our lives ahead of us."

She smiles at that, soft and genuine. "The rest of our lives," she repeats, as if testing out the words. "I like the sound of that."

CHAPTER 49

RHYS

Iadjust the centerpiece on the main table for what feels like the hundredth time, my fingers trembling slightly as I fuss with the arrangement. The meeting hall looks perfect—elegant yet welcoming, with soft lighting and tasteful decorations. But is it enough? Will it make Ophelia feel truly accepted and loved by our families?

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