Page 24 of Knot Made to Break: Part One

I instantly flushed, embarrassed by my lack of decorum, but nodded my agreement. Marco definitely knew his way around the kitchen. Here I was, practically inhaling my breakfast. I forced myself to slow down, but the flavors were just so divine after subsisting on stale bread and leftover scraps of meat for so long. Each bite was like a revelation, like tasting food for the very first time.

A tiny, involuntary moan slipped past my lips as the sweetness of the syrup-drenched pancakes hit my tongue. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the guys shifting where they stood, Tommas’ gaze darkening.

The heat creeping up my neck grew hotter, deeper.

I ate more carefully then, trying to contain my reactions. It didn’t take long until I was full to bursting. Despite my body’s growing protests, my instincts drove me to keep eating until Gio’s approving nod finally appeased my Omega and allowed me to stop. I sat back, stomach straining uncomfortably, but a warm sense of accomplishment bloomed in my chest. I had pleased my… my Alphas.

This time, the flutter in my belly had nothing to do with being overstuffed. There was a longing there, a yearning for connection I hadn’t dared to feel in far too long.

With my hunger overly sated, Marco reached across the island. “Let me take that for you.”

As he pulled the plate away, I heard a sorrowful whine and realized Beretta was lying obediently beside my chair. The enormous beast was staring up at me with soulful brown eyes, as though he were a starving puppy in one of those commercials that tugged at your heartstrings.

Although he was perfectly healthy with nary a pointy bone in sight, I couldn’t help but sympathize with his pleading gaze. I knew what it was like to dream of a simple scrap of food, to have your entire world narrow to that single craving. Without a second thought, I stole an uneaten strip of crispy bacon from my plate before Marco had fully retreated.

Then tentatively offered it to the giant dog.

Beretta’s nub started wagging enthusiastically as I leaned down, cautiously holding out the morsel. His warm tongue lapped the meat before he gently took it from between myfingers, his sharp teeth not seeming so monstrous when he wasn’t baring them at me.

A small smile tugged at my lips as I straightened, briefly meeting Tommas’ intense stare. There was a warmth in his expression that made my breath hitch.

“You’re stuck with him forever now, you know that, right? Bacon is his love language.” He grinned roguishly, not even attempting to mask the double meaning behind his words. “In fact…” He leaned in conspiratorially, the faint spice in his scent making my head spin. “Pretty sure you’re stuck with all of us.”

My pulse kicked up as our gazes locked, the weight of his statement sending my stomach somersaulting. “Oh, am I?” I breathed, surprising myself with the airy, flirtatious tone.

Tommas’ grin stretched into a deliciously wicked smirk. “You agreed to be ours. No take backs, Butterfly.” He winked at me then, the dimple in his cheek doing absolutely sinful things to the suddenly aching spot between my thighs.

Heat flooded my face as my traitorous imagination supplied all sorts of delectable images of what being “stuck” with these men could entail one day.

Before I knew what was happening, a burst of my perfume lifted into the air, making me jerk upright. “Oh God, I’m sorry.”

Four distinct groans sounded through the room, but none of them lunged for me, demanded I drop to my knees or present. Instead, they shocked me once again by remaining stock still. “You’re alright,Dolcezza,” Giovanni’s gruff voice cut through the heated moment.

“You smell fuckin’ edible,” Tommas groaned, eyes dark and hooded. But even he stayed where he was. “It’s amazing.”

“Why don’t we all go get ready and meet in the foyer in ten minutes?” Dimitri ordered, and I knew it was an attempt to give us all a little space to recompose ourselves.

I was grateful for the break. Between my overactive perfume and my protesting stomach, I needed a minute to gather myself.

“There should be some scent-canceling lotion in the bathroom, Angel. I love scenting you, but that smell? That perfume? That’s just for us,” Marco said, low and possessive, and his rumbling baritone sent another wave of my signature rising.

I squeezed my thighs together, hoping to mask the majority of it. Mentally, I added scent-blocking panties to my list of essentials. The undergarments were new and experimental, but they were all the rage at the OMA before…

Well, justbefore.

Tommas pushed away from the counter, threw me a reassuring wink, then followed Marco up the stairs to get ready for our excursion into the city. Giovanni brushed a hand over my shoulder, making sure I was alright, then trailed after them.

I couldn’t seem to catch my breath as I looked between the now empty barstool and Dimitri’s molten stare. Being around these men made me feel off-kilter in the most disconcerting way. It was as though my world had tilted on its axis and I didn’t know up from down.

Swallowing hard, I forced myself to stand on wobbly legs, smoothing down the soft cotton t-shirt that hung loose on my frame. The oversized sweats pooled around my bare feet as I took a hesitant step forward, and my gaze flicked to Dimitri’s as anxiety set in.

“Am I… okay like this?” I asked, my fingers toying with the worn hem of the shirt. I looked like an absolute frump compared to him. “I have nothing else to wear.”

His heavy stare raked over me again, and I resisted the urge to shrink under the onslaught of his attention. Especially because there was a clash of heat, understanding, and softness in his expression as he drank me in.

“Kitten…” His voice was velvet covered gruffness that resonated straight through me. “You could wear a trash bag and you’d still be the most beautiful woman in the world.”

The sincerity in his words was breathtaking. I could only stare back at him, completely disarmed by his affection. There was something in his eyes that made me feel… cherished.

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