Page 99 of Knot Made to Break: Part One

“Fuck, yes!” He thrust once, twice more before slamming knot deep.

The immense pressure was so damn good, and my blissful, nonsensical cries rose to the sky. Every nerve-ending inside of me was alight, sending me tumbling into another powerful orgasm.

Marco held me close, his knot locking us together. His movements became jerky and uncoordinated, rocking into me the best he could while we were knotted tight. His own release barreled through him. Swearing viciously, he buried his face in my neck. The low, sexy grunt he released was the sexiest thing I’d ever heard as the heat of his spend filled me to the brim.

I collapsed against his chest, boneless and sated. Sighing contentedly, I snuggled into him as he wrapped his arms around me, cradling me close. Aftershocks rippled through us while we exchanged soft kisses and tender caresses. Marco’s hands traced soothing patterns up and down my back, gentling me as I came down from the high.

“That was...” I trailed off, struggling to find the right sentiment.

“Intense?” he supplied, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “Mind-blowing? The best sex of your life?”

I laughed breathlessly, playfully swatting his chest. “All of the above.”

He chuckled, deep and low. I nuzzled into him, drawing in his comforting scent of leather and spice. In that moment, I was completely at peace.

We stayed like that for a long time, my face pressed against his neck as our breathing slowed and our hearts returned to a normal rhythm. The night was quiet, save for the occasional chirp of crickets or the distant hum of traffic. Up here, in our own little bubble, it felt like we were the only two people in the world.

“You are the most incredible thing that’s ever happened to me,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “I never thought I could feel this way about anyone.”

I pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. In the moonlight, his dark blue eyes were oceans of vulnerability.

“I feel the same,” I whispered, tracing my fingers along his jaw. “You and your brothers... You’ve given me a reason to hope again. To believe that maybe I can have a future, that I’m worthy of love.”

He captured my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. “You are worthy of everything good in this world, Angel. Never doubt that. The four of us, we will spend the rest of our lives proving it to you.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. After so much pain and darkness, the intensity of their devotion still caught me off guard sometimes. But with each passing day, I was learning to accept it, to trust in the unbreakable bond we shared.

These men were my scent matches—my perfect mates.

Marco sensed the direction of my thoughts. He always seemed to know what I needed, even when I wasn’t quite suremyself. Gently, he cupped my face, his thumb brushing away the lone tear that escaped. Leaning in, he kissed my forehead, then rested his against mine. “Don’t cry.”

“They’re good tears.” I sniffed. “Promise.”

I luxuriated in the purr that built in his chest, letting the vibrations soothe me. But a few minutes later, the buzzing changed. It took me a minute to realize it was coming from his phone. Careful not to jostle me too much, he shifted, digging into the pocket of the jeans that were shoved down his thighs until he had his cell in hand.

“It’s Gio,” he said, flashing the screen my way.

The anxiety of the evening crept back in, and I urged him to answer it, desperate for any news on my remaining mates.

“G—”

I faintly heard Gio’s voice on the other end of the line, letting us know they’d taken care of things. The vise around my heart eased.

“Alright. We’ll meet you at the house,” Marco told him, then, after Gio murmured something back, added, “She was a little shaken up, but she’s calmer now.”

I flushed, thinking about all the ways Marco had distracted me—or maybe it wasmewho’d distractedhim.

Either way, I didn’t regret how we’d passed the time. I just hoped none of the others would be upset that Marco had been first. It hadn’t been something we’d discussed, but I knew from classes at the OMA on sexual relations within packs that it was usually the lead Alpha an Omega should give herself to first. Something about jealousy and Alpha instincts.

My nerves sparked to life again. Now I was stressed for an entirely different reason.

The desire to curl up in a soft blanket and hide under my covers hit me hard.

Marco hung up, eyeing me with confusion. “Your scent just went on a rollercoaster ride—sour, sweet, then right back to those bitter notes. Wanna tell me what’s running through that pretty head of yours?”

I bit my lip, debating how he’d take my confession. “What if they’re upset?”

“That we slept together?”

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