Page 27 of Knot My Luck

He doesn’t wait for more. His lips crash against mine, fierce and demanding, as if he’s been holding back too. His hands move quickly, urgently, pushing me past the point of no return. And for the first – or maybe technically the second – time in my life, I’m not holding back. I’m letting go, letting him take me exactly where he wants, surrendering to the pull between us. Just like I did with Lorcan. Every touch, every whisper of his touch against my skin, leaves me desperate for more.

I feel myself unraveling, my pulse thundering in my ears as the pressure builds inside me – each breath I take is shaky and uneven. My body betrays me, spiraling closer to the edge, until I finally shatter, another orgasm wracking through me, leaving me trembling, soaked in need. But I want more, I need more of him, his touch, his presence.

“Knot, alpha,” I whimper, my voice thick with lust, a desperate plea for something I can’t deny anymore.

He pulls back, his eyes dark with hunger. “You want my knot, Lucky Clover?” His voice is rough, filled with a mixture of amusement and something far more primal. My heart races in response to the challenge in his words, and I nod eagerly, the ache between my legs unbearable. “Then work for it,” he demands, his smirk turning feral as he kneels over me.

I can feel the weight of him, the promise of what’s to come. His hard cock presses against the fabric of his trousers, straining, a clear sign of just how much he wants this. And my mouth waters at the thought of what’s hidden underneath. The need to taste him, to feel him, is overwhelming.

Does he taste as good as he smells?

God, I hope so.

Every nerve in my body is on fire, the heat between us scorching. His scent is intoxicating, a heady mix of his cedarwood and amber, and the smoky vanilla that’s so distinctly him – deep and commanding but still a little bit sweet. I can’t resist anymore. I want him, all of him, in every way he’ll give me.

He hovers above me, stripping off every item of clothing, the air between us crackling with unspoken need. I can see the struggle in his eyes, the battle between control and the raw hunger that’s been simmering beneath the surface. His breaths come in harsh, uneven gasps, matching mine as the intensity of the moment consumes us both.

I lift my trembling hands, to touch him, my fingers brushing the hard lines of his chest, tracing the edges of his roughened jaw. The contact sends a jolt of electricity through me. He’s solid, real, and every inch of him pulls at me in ways I can’t even comprehend. He’s so close, yet so far. The distance between us feels unbearable.

“Please,” I beg again, my voice barely a breath. “I can’t wait. I need to taste you, Tadhg...now.”

He leans down, his lips hovering over mine, his scent enveloping me, intoxicating. There’s a moment where we’re both frozen, both caught in the anticipation, the weight of what’s coming next pressing down on us like a promise. And then his lips crash against mine again, this time with a fierceness that takes my breath away. It doesn’t matter that he’s made me come twice already, everything in me is screaming for more.

His hands are everywhere, urgent but gentle, as if he’s savouring every inch of my skin. Every touch, every caress feels like a spark, lighting me up from the inside out. My body arches towards him, seeking more, desperate to feel every part of him.

He pulls back, his eyes dark with desire, and his gaze locks onto mine. “You’re mine, Clover,” he growls, his voice low and possessive, sending a wave of heat through me. “And I’m not going to stop until you’ve taken all of me too.”

His words are a promise, one that I can’t deny, one that I don’t want to. Every part of me, every inch of my body, craves him.

I slip from the bed and sink to my knees, staring up at him through my long lashes, waiting for…something. Permission? Him to take control? I don’t know, but when he squeezes the base of his cock – huge, throbbing and freakingpierced –I eagerly open wide.

My tongue darts out and flavour explodes on my tongue: the vanilla coming through strong and making my mouth water even more. I greedily lap at the tip, my tongue teasing his slit and the silver metal bar, until he’s threading his fingers into my hair and pulling me closer.

“Every inch of you is mine, which means every inch of me needs to be yours, Clover.”

He doesn’t need to tell me twice. I let my jaw hang open, flatten my tongue, and take him fully into my mouth. He’s so big my jaw instantly aches, but the groan of pleasure he gives makes the discomfort worth it.

I can feel the tension building in the air, thick and suffocating, as I begin to take him deeper, my throat constricting as I swallow around him. His fingers tighten in my hair, holding me steady as I move with him, each slow thrust pushing me to the edge of something I can’t quite grasp. The pain of him stretching me wide, mixing with the pleasure of his every movement, sends a tremor of excitement racing through me. His piercing rubs the roof of my mouth, hitting the back with force. A gush of slick pools between my thighs, dripping onto the carpet beneath me, and my perfume fills the room.

His voice is low, but it feels like it’s vibrating through me. “That’s it, Clover. Take it all, omega. Let me feel you submit. Good girl. So fucking good for me. Look at how well you take your alpha.”

I moan around him, the sound muffled by the weight of him in my mouth, but it only seems to spur him on. The rhythm between us is raw, primal, as I meet each of his thrusts with eager surrender, my hands clutching at his thighs for leverage. I want to give him everything, every part of myself, because somehow I know it’s what he craves, what he needs.

His grip on my hair tightens again, pulling me just a little further, forcing me to take even more of him. A sharp breath escapes me, but I don’t pull away. I couldn’t. Not when he’s like this. Not when everything inside me is burning with the need to please him, to show him just how much I want this, how much I need him.

And it’s not just my omega wanting that.

He lets out a rough groan, his hips jerking forward as he moves deeper, harder. “Good girl, Clover. Such a good fucking omega for me.Mine.”

The words send a shockwave through my bones, and I can’t help the rush of heat that floods me. The ache between my legs grows unbearable, and I fight the urge to reach for myself, to take some of the edge off, but I don’t. Not until he gives me permission.

His eyes are dark with desire, staring down at me like I’m his to do with as

he pleases. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

A fresh wave of heat builds between my legs. My scent is thickening in the air, sweet and heady, a mix of his vanilla and my caramel apple desire that clings to everything. I can feel it, slick and wet, trailing down my thighs in a way I can’t ignore. Every movement I make sends ripples of need through me, and I’m desperate, aching to give him everything.

I push myself further down on him, swallowing around his thick length, my throat tight and eager to please. The stretch burns, but the burn is nothing compared to the fire building deep inside me. I crave the knot he’s promised me, my body trembling with anticipation, my every nerve begging for release. I need him to finish this, to claim me completely.

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