Page 85 of Knot Just for Show

“Hey, it’s ok.” I fold her into my arms, her head against my chest—her arms clasped around my waist. “I know that you’re not just going to get over a lifetime of people being shitty to you for how you look after two days of being on vacation with our motley crew,” I murmur softly, taking her face in my hands as she looks up at me, tears stream down her heart-shaped face. “But believe me when I say, all of us find you stunning—all of us want you,” I rasp, my own heart beat picking up its pace. “And while I can’t speak for all the other guys, I can speak for me—and I don’t give a fuck about what anyone else thinks. Not here, not at home, not anywhere.”

I take a moment to admire Ursula’s watery smile, the gentle quiver of her upturned lips—the way her long raven lashes clump together with tears and expensive mascara, the wobble of her chin; all these things that make up her beautiful face—then I press my lips to hers.

I managed to avoid any more spontaneous crying or soul bearing through the rest of our dinner—serving the pasta course a little cooler than I would have liked due to our small mood-detour. Alukewarm pasta course aside—the dinner went very well. Ursula raved about every dish, even if I was working in a new kitchen with whatever ingredients I could acquire on short notice.

Outside, the night was warm and breezy—the smell of night-blooming flowers thick in the air as we made our way out to the vast patio overlooking the coast. Ursula and I opted to make a small fire in the dish-like metal pit close to the railing—the two of us curled against one another on the outdoor sofa, watching the dance of fire and lacy seafoam play against each other; the crackling of wood and whispering of waves filling the air around us.

Without words, without any fanfare—I gently take the nearly empty crystal flute from Ursula’s hand and place it on the side table on my end of the sofa—turning to face her, tucking one of her errant raven curls behind her ear.

“Would it be tacky of me to ask if you’d like to retire to the bedroom right now?” I try for levity, but I can hear the barely leashed heat in my words as I ask them.

“Who says we have to go all the way to the bedroom?” Ursula winks at me, her hand hooking behind my neck—fingers weaving through my locs as she cradles the back of my head, drawing me down to her.

“Fair enough,” I laugh—my lips locking with hers, her tongue slipping past mine as I hold her shoulders gently in my hands.

Her scent, sweet, rich and warm pours over me; the floral rose and exotic saffron making my head swim as she leans into the kiss.

Slowly I become aware of Ursula’s hand, working its way from the space just above my knee higher and higher up my thigh. We shift, slightly awkward on the couch—until Ursula’s face suddenly pulls back from mine, her hands re-assessing their path—both palms finding their way to the firm round of my shoulders.

I’m about to ask her ‘what’s wrong’ when she takes one hand from its place, hiking her satin skirt just slightly so that its flared hem sits across her wide hips—hands finding their steadying position on each of my shoulders as she takes her new place astride my lap, facing me.

“There, that’s better,” She sighs happily, our faces drifting together once more—my hands creeping up the outsides of her thighs, under the hem of her slip dress.

“Hmmm, very cozy,” I confirm, my hands moving up over the round of her ass, my fingers skating over the lace of her cheeky cut panties—leaning into another kiss.

I can feel my cock, stiff, knot not yet formed as Ursula writhes atop me—our bodies seeking the heat, the friction of our budding desire.

I let Ursula set the pace. I’d have happily had her on the countertop over an hour ago, but as we discussed—it’s not quite the ‘right’ way to go about things in terms of courtship, especially not when we have a camera crew practically on top of us.

Since I haven’t asked for specifics in terms of what she’s done with Ash and Teddy—I don’t want to set up any kind of expectation around our explorations, but to say I’m eager to cover new ground…is an understatement.

Without warning, Ursula breaks our kiss—her lips trailing tiny kisses down the angle of my jaw, over my Adam’s apple, my collar bones; her fingers working the small wooden buttons of my shirt open as she continues her path.

I realize what she’s doing only after she’s slipped off my lap, my shirt undone, her fingers at my oversized silver belt buckle. Before I can sit up—to protest, she lifts a single finger and wags it at me.

“Ah, ah!” she scolds. “I’ve got this, chef.” She looks up at me through hooded lids, her kittenish pink tongue darting out hungrily over her lips.

I lean back, a little surprised—but pleased with the outcome nonetheless.

Ursula’s citrine eyes widen as she frees my enthusiastic erection—my hard length springing valiantly from the fly of my jeans, to nearly strike her across her perfect button nose.

My eyes force shut as she takes my cock in one hand, that perfect pink tongue ghosting across my cockhead.

“Fuck” I hiss, sucking air through my teeth as she wraps her mouth around me, taking my length deeper.

Ursula’s head bobs, and I almost jump when I feel my cock graze the back of her throat without her gagging.

“Unh, that feels good,” I moan, one of my hands reaching for the arm of the sofa—the other gently weaving its fingers through Ursula’s short, loose curls.

Encouraged, Ursula adds her hand—grip firm and steady as she strokes the length of my cock that isn’t already in her mouth and I instinctively hook my hips upward—her lips making a low buzzing vibration around my cock as I nudge the back of her throat once more.

“Ursula,” I almost gasp her name this time—my knot beginning to swell at the base of my shaft as her other hand gently cups my balls.

My cock makes an audible popping noise as it clears the ‘o’ of her lips and the delicious suction

“Mavren…” she purrs, her expression positively devilish, helping my jeans and worn boxer briefs down over my hips, past my knees giving her completely unfettered access. “I’d like to try a little something, considering the…interests budding amongst our pack.” She bats her eyelashes innocently, but my stomach can’t help but clutch nervously at what she might suggest.

“As long as it involves more of whatever you were just doing, I’m inclined to say yes,” I rumble, my hand moving lazily to my cock, making long languid strokes as I keep my eyes on hers.

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