Page 63 of Hard Knot

My breath catches, but I recover quickly, my lips curling into a slow smile.

Oh, this man likes to play games, huh?

“Good,” I say, letting my fingers trail down the open zipper. “Because my father didn’t raise a weak bitch. I’m not one to cower to a challenge or a punishment.”

Victoria sputters, but I don’t pay her any attention.

All my focus is on Holmes — the way his body reacts to my touch, the subtle shifts in his breathing. I’ve never been one to back down from any fight or opportunity, and I’m not about to start now.

Let this game begin.

A Blindfolded Proposition

~HOLMES~

The moment she stepped into my office, my senses went haywire.

I could smell her before I even heard her behind that door.

The scent was maddening—a layered bouquet of sweetness, warmth, and spice that hit every receptor in my brain like an electric shock. Vanilla, honey, and something deeper, richer, almost musky—like a blend of ripe blackberries and cinnamon.

It’s the kind of scent that lingers, sneaks into your mind, and refuses to let go. An aroma you can’t help but yearn to inhale deeply and express its unique touch to the hairs of your nostrils.

I’d dare to admit how pleasant it would be to smell this every single day.

Then there’s Carter’s scent, faintly mingled with hers, hovering at the edges like smoke curling around a flame.

The combination is enough to make me grip the armrests of my chair, fighting to maintain my composure. I’m not necessarily jealous of his lingering scent on her, which probably means they’ve hugged, kissed, or maybe fucked for all I know, but envious of the idea of him having her first.

As though it’s my responsibility as the leader to enjoy the first taste of something as forbidden and sweet as apricot.

It’s a stark contrast to Victoria, whose sharp, overly floral scent has always repulsed me. Her perfume has the cloying intensity of rotting fruit masked by cheap potpourri, and not even the strongest coffee beans could cleanse my palate after being forced to endure it.

But Elizabeth—this Omega—smells like a temptation I can’t afford to entertain.

Yet here she is, perched on my lap, her curves pressed against me, her every move calculated to provoke a reaction.

And, God help me, it’s working.

“Why doesn’t Abercrombie give Holmes a blowjob as compensation for being an embarrassment among our pack’s company?” Carter’s suggestion pulls me from my thoughts, but not before my breath hitches.He’s joking, surely.The bastard always enjoys pushing boundaries.

My boundaries especially.

“I’ll even record it for blackmail,” Felix adds, his tone dry and infuriatingly amused. I’m completely surprised that Felix not only suggests that but is going along with this sudden fiasco.

Have they both lost their minds?

My grip on this Omega tightens. I’m sure it must be painful, but she doesn’t even flinch with my finger beds digging into her soft flesh.

It’s one thing to endure Carter’s provocations, but Felix’s agreement makes the heat simmering in my veins boil over.

My voice remains steady, though, as I murmur, “Enough.”

But Elizabeth—Abercrombie—has other plans.

“Fine,” Victoria snaps, her voice shrill with indignation. “Do it. Punish her. Prove she’s not the Omega Holmes deserves!”

I feel Elizabeth’s soft laugh reverberate through her chest as she shifts in my lap, her scent growing stronger as she leans closer.

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