Page 58 of Break Me Knot

Fuck. Beneath the sugared lilac, there's a heavy undercurrent of arousal and pain so intertwined I can barely separate them. It's like her heat scent, but sharper, more desperate. My instincts roar to claim, to soothe, to take away her pain. I force them down, drawing back to look at her.

Her pupils are blown wide, dark pools drowning the deep emerald of her irises. A fine sheen of sweat gleams on her upper lip, and she's breathing in short, controlled gasps. She's fighting it, so hard, but pain is etched in every line of her body.

“Little One,” I keep my voice steady despite the way my body thrums. “I just received a message from Dr. Maverick about your toxicology results.” I brush my thumb gently across her pulse point as it races beneath her skin. “You’re having a withdrawal spike.”

She tenses, fear threading through her arousal scent. I continue quickly, “The suppressants you took...they've built up in your system.” Only Gods know what was mixed in with the suppressants she took. They could have been laced with anything and reconstituted. Cutting drugs is a common enough technique to bulk out the output with whatever tablets were stolen from Pinnacle. So fucking dangerous and I’m looking right at the terrified victim of this crime. I watch her process this, see the moment understanding dawns in her eyes. “These spikes... they're going to keep happening until the drugs clear your system.”

Or until you bond with us. I don’t say that. Hearing those words would be a surefire way to scare her the hell away from us. Fate will only give us one chance at claiming our mate. If we don’t do it right, we’ll lose her forever.

Another tremor wracks her frame, and this time she can't hold back a whimper. My knot pulses in response, but I ignore it. This isn't about my needs.

“I can help with the pain.” I watch her face. She’s suffering so much she’ll need more than my scent alone. She tried to handle things herself in the shower but her own hands are not enough. She needs one of her alphas. She needsme. “If you'll let me. But only if you want it, Little One. The choice is yours.”

She bites her lip, confusion and need warring in her scent. “How?” The word comes out broken, desperate.

“My scent, my touch… they can ease the symptoms.” I keep my hand on her neck, letting my thumb stroke her soft skin. “Your body knows what it yearns for.”

Her thighs press together, and fresh arousal spikes in her scent but there's still fear and hesitation. I wait, patient despite my straining cock, despite every alpha instinct screaming to take care of her.

“You don't...” she swallows hard. “You don't have to...”

“There is no ‘have to’ when it comes to you, Little One. Let me be clear. Iwantto. But only if you want it, too. We can try something small first. See if it helps,” I suggest.

I hold still, watching her wage an internal battle. Finally, so quietly I almost miss it… “Please.”

The word breaks something in my chest. Such a simple request, but I can see how much it costs her. I lean in again, this time letting my lips brush her scent gland. “I've got you, Little One. Let me take care of you.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Adrian

“Idon’t know how…don’t know what...” She breaks off, embarrassment and arousal warring in her scent.

The admission makes my cock throb painfully. She's so innocent, so untouched even though I’ve seen her through her heat. Everything about her calls to my most primitive instincts to protect and possess. But there's something darker there too, in the way she’s surprised by pleasure, like she's never known touch could be good. Her scars tell a dark story, one I want to know so I canraze from the earth the bastards who put her through so much pain. “You just need to tell me what you want, Little One.” I nuzzle her temple.

“I've never... I'm not supposed to want...” Her words break on her tongue, but she turns her head, pressing her face into my neck where my scent is strongest, her movements slow and careful. As though she doesn't know if doing such a thing, something she desperately needs, will be okay.

“You're allowed to want. You're allowed to ask for what you need.”

She lifts eyes to mine, her pupils so large there’s only a thin ring of green. “Alpha... please...”

“Please what? Tell me what you need, omega.” Her pulse races beneath my lips.

“It’s better when you touch me. Please... make it stop hurting.”

My control nearly snaps at the desperate plea. I carefully place my hand on her calf, her bone structure delicate beneath the worn denim. She's trembling, watching me with those wide, wary eyes. But she doesn't pull away. Her muscles are rigid under my touch, and I work my thumbs into her calf muscles, applying gentle pressure.

“Is this okay?” I murmur, watching her face. The slightest hint I’m doing something she doesn’t want and I’ll stop. Instead, she nods, almost imperceptibly. Her scent shifts, the sharp edge of pain softening as I keep up the gentle pressure.

“I'm going to move up to your thighs now,” I tell her, my voice rougher than I intend. “May I?”

Gods, please say yes. Please let me touch you. Please let me love you…

“Yes,” she rasps.

My breath rushes out with relief. I slide my hands up as slowly as I’m able. Deliberate. She needs to anticipate my touch, not flinch from it. I only want her to know pleasure at my hands. Not pain. I focus on the way she's melting under my touch, how her breath catches when I brush my thumbs between her upper thighs.

Her scent is transforming. The sweet notes of lilac deepen, mature, and I stifle a groan as the first hints of her slick reach my nose. My cock throbs painfullyagainst my zipper, but I keep my touch therapeutic, professional. This isn't about my need. It's about her comfort, her choice.

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