Page 55 of Seen Knot Heard

Shivering, I keep my arm where he put it, completely under his spell. I would agree to anything he asked right now, as long as he keeps touching me like this, setting me on fire with the barest brush of skin on skin.

Holden’s hand drifts lower, tracing the curve of my shoulder through my T-shirt. My breaths quicken in anticipation as his fingers skate over my collarbone, heading south. But he pauses when he reaches the upper swell of my breast, hand hovering, not quite touching.

He lifts his head. “Is this okay? Tell me to stop, and I will.”

As if I could ever refuse him. Not when I’m burning up from the inside out, desperate for more.

I bite my lip and nod frantically. “Please, I need you to touch me.”

Permission granted, he traces one finger along the neckline of my T-shirt, circling the curve of my breast without dipping beneath the fabric. It’s not enough, the teasing touch only fueling the ache building between my thighs.

His thumb finds my nipple, already pebbled and straining against the thin cotton. He rubs slow circles around the sensitive peak and pleasure rocks through me. My back arches as I gasp his name.

“You’re so responsive.” He catches the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a light pinch.

“Oh!” The sensation zings straight to my core, and I squirm against him.

“Mmm, you like that?” He plucks at the tight bud again before soothing it with firm strokes. “I can smell how much you want me. Like laying in a field of flowers.”

He dips his head to nuzzle my neck, inhaling deeply. A growl rumbles in his chest, and the growing evidence of his arousal presses against my hip. A thrill shoots through me at how much I affect him.

Holden lavishes open-mouthed kisses across my throat, teeth scraping lightly. “I want to taste you, sugar.” His hand skims the hem of my T-shirt. “Can I take this off?”

“Yes,” I breathe, desperate for those full lips to be on me.

Mindful of my injured arm, he eases the shirt up my body. Cool air kisses my overheated skin, and goose bumps break out everywhere, my nipples drawing into tighter peaks.

The shirt comes off, and he tosses it aside. But when I start to lower my arms, wanting to touch him in return, Holden captures my wrists and presses them into the pillow above my head again.

“Leave them there for me, love. Let me worship you.” His voice wraps around me like velvet, and I stay still, undone by the command in his tone.

Satisfied, he kisses me, tongue delving past my parted lips to claim my mouth. I open to him, reveling in the hot fullness as he probes deeper, tasting like home.

As we kiss, Holden’s hands trace the lines and curves of my body, his calloused palms rough against my smooth skin, heightening every sensation. Fingertips circle my belly button, then trail over my ribs and sternum.

When he finally cups my aching breasts in his broad hands, I break the kiss with a strangled moan, my back bowing.

He fills his palms with their weight, squeezing gently, and my nipples press into his skin, the slight abrasion a delicious torture. “You’re so beautiful. So perfect.”

The whispered praise sends fire shooting straight to my core.

With one hand, he rubs my stomach in soothing circles, his other hand squeezing my breast before flicking the sensitive nub. My hips buck and a needy whimper escapes.

“That’s it, sugar. Let me hear how much you want me.”

In response, I spread my legs, my panties now soaked through with my desire. “I want you inside me, Alpha.”

His head jerks up. “Are you sure?”

I wiggle my hips. “Please.”

Holden groans, his self-control shattering. “I’ve been dreaming about this since we shared a pan of Rice Krispie Treats.”

He leans backward, fingers hooking into the waistband of my sweats, and he drags them down. I pull my legs free and shift to place my sock-covered feet on either side of his hips, leaving myself open to his hungry stare.

His hands stroke my thighs as his focus drops to my center. “Such a pretty pink. I want to cover you with strawberry syrup and lick it from your body.”

My focus drops to the tent in the front of his pants. “Only if I get to lick whipped cream off you.”

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