Page 118 of Knot Made to Break: Part One

I shook my head against his chest, too blissed-out to form words. His concern for me was sweet, endearing, but unnecessary. He’d been so careful, so considerate, even in the throes of his own need.

“I’m more than okay,” I finally managed to say, though it was barely above a dreamy whisper. “That was—” I searched for the word; incredible, amazing, earth-shattering? While they were all true, none of them fully encompassed what I felt. Instead, I settled on saying, “—everything.”

We might not share a bond yet, but I swore I could feel his satisfaction, his pride. It filled me to the brim, adding to my contentment.

He kissed my forehead, then my nose, then lightly pecked my lips. “I don’t know if you’re ready to hear this, Butterfly, but if Idon’t say it right now, I have a feeling I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. I love you. So fuckin’ damn much.”

Tears built behind my eyes. “It’s not too soon, Tommy. Because I feel the same way.”

A purr blazed to life in his chest, and since we were pressed together, nary an inch between us, those pleasant little vibrations rumbled straight into me. The comfort I derived from them only made me more confident about what I wanted to say.

“I love you, too.”

“Fuck, Butterfly.”

Tommas claimed another kiss, this one slow and sensual, making my toes curl and my skin flush anew. I melted into him, reveling in how right I felt in his arms—even stark naked in the middle of a private gun range. There was nothing about this moment I would change. My only wish was to capture it, to hold on to it and carry it with me through both good times and bad.

Because if anyone knew how quickly a life could turn from good to bad to worse, it was me.

I pushed the invading melancholy away as Tommy’s knot eased, letting him slip free. Instant wetness dripped and pooled on the table, a mixture of both of us. It was obscenely sexy, and yet deeply satisfying.

A grin curled my lips, the high of endorphins making me feel buzzy and light. “You’re wild.”

“And you like it.” He smirked unapologetically.

I shook my head at him, unable to contain my amusement. “I think Iloveit.”

“That’s my good little Omega.”

A responding whine slipped out before I could stop it. “Alpha…”

What was it about his praise I loved so much?

Apparently, he liked me calling him Alpha just as deeply. His eyes sparkled with an animalistic type of intensity, predatory and obsessive.

“Come on. Let’s go back upstairs before you put me in a damn rut and I knot you all over again.”

I bit my lip, my pussy fluttering from mere words. “Would that be so bad?”

His responding groan was gritty and guttural. “I can read exactly what you’re thinking. But before any of us let things go that far, we need to talk about your boundaries first. When an Alpha ruts, there’s not much brain space left for discussions about consent or hard limits. We need to know those things upfront.”

I considered what he said. “I just—I think I enjoy being on top and feeling a little more… in control. And I don’t want to be hurt. Or strapped down. And no knives.”

Tommas’ eyes snapped closed, his hands curling into fists where they rested on the countertop on either side of me, and he swallowed, throat bobbing.

Embarrassment sluiced through me.

Did I just ruin things? Maybe I shouldn’t have said that…

Scared to know the answer, I stammered the question anyway. “A-Are you mad?”

TOMMAS

Mad? She thought I was mad? Ather?

Jesus fucking Christ.

“No, Butterfly. Not at you. Never at you.” I swallowed again, finding it difficult to voice the mix of rage and fuckingheartbreak that churned inside me. “You’re asking for such basic shit.” It was fuckin tragic. “Don’t worry, baby. We’re always going to respect your boundaries. And if things change or we find new triggers, we’ll adjust the list. Okay?”

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