Page 3 of Knot My Luck

For a moment, his eyes go wide – almost as if he’s been struck by the boldness of my request. Then, slowly, he nods, his pupils reflecting a spark of intrigue. We fall back into the rhythm, the unspoken promise between us adding a delicious charge to every step and sway.

Hours pass in a haze of music, laughter, and clinking glasses. We share stolen smiles and knowing glances, never needing to say more. Every moment feels unhurried, each beat of the song drawing us closer into the night’s mystery.

We linger on the dance floor for a few more heartbeats, before the pulsing rhythm of the club gives way to a more urgent call – the night outside and the possibility of being alone.

Saying goodbye to the bridal party is swift and met with hollers of approval.

His hand finds mine as we leave, and together we step into the cool air. The celebration spills onto the streets: throngs of revelers in green, laughter echoing between brick walls, and music still thundering from nearby speakers.

We weave our way through the crowd, his arm securely around my waist. Every step feels charged, as if the chaos of St. Patrick’s Day has conspired to pull us into a world of our own. The city glitters under streetlights, and in the midst of the rowdy celebration, it’s just the two of us. His eyes, dark and unwavering, follow every move I make, and I can’t help but imagine what might happen if the night were ours alone.

A few street vendors pass us by, the scent of fried food mingling with the crisp night air. I hear snippets of laughter and song as we stagger along, our steps growing a little less coordinated, our inhibitions melting away with each echoing cheer.

He leans in, voice rough against my ear. “No way I’m letting you spend this night alone…not when we could be making better use of it.”

I catch my breath, heart pounding as I meet his gaze. I feel as if I’ve stepped into a dream where every touch and whispered word is a promise. Soon, the neon glow of my hotel comes into view – a quiet sanctuary amid the clamour. With the city’s wild energy trailing behind us, we slow our pace, the night still full of secrets waiting to be discovered.

At the hotel door, our steps finally slow to a stop. I hesitate for just a moment, savouring the closeness, the shared warmth that made the chaotic night feel safe. In that suspended moment, nothing is final – only the exhilarating uncertainty of what comes next.

We head for the elevator, and I’m not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse that we get to ride alone.

The tension between us crackles, thick and charged. His hand slides from my hip to the small of my back, pulling me closer, pressing his body against mine with an undeniable heat. I can feel every breath he takes, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with mine. My pulse quickens, each second stretching longer than the last. I’m dizzy from the closeness, the hunger, the magnetic pull between us that’s only growing stronger.

He tilts my chin up, his thumb brushing my jaw, and his lips hover just above mine, the space between us so small I can taste the heat of his breath. “You’re not gonna run, are you, cailín?” he challenges, his voice low and dangerous, almost teasing. His fingers trace the curve of my waist, sending a jolt of heat through my body that I can’t suppress. That’s the second time he’s called megirland the effect it has on me could be dangerous.

I swallow, trying to steady myself, but the closer he pulls me, the harder it is to think clearly. Every touch, every word, sends me spinning. “I’m not sure I have a choice,” I manage, my voice trembling as his lips brush against my neck. “I feel like if I ran, you’d just chase me.”

He chuckles softly, a sound that makes something inside me twist. His hands are relentless, exploring, savoring, as he nuzzles into the sensitive spot just beneath my ear. A shiver runs through me, my knees threatening to give way. “You’re right, cailín,” he breathes, his lips leaving a trail of fire against my skin. “You don’t. And I would.”

The elevator doors ding softly as they slide open, but neither of us moves. I’m trapped between him and the doorframe, caught in the rush of adrenaline and desire. My breath hitches when his lips finally press against mine – slow, deliberate, a teasing exploration. It’s everything I’ve been craving and yet…so much more.

Every brush of his fingers, every press of his lips, pushes me further to the edge. I’m trembling, my whole body alight with need, but I can’t decide if I’m desperate to end it or to stretch it out, make it last.

“I want you,” he says, pulling back slightly, his eyes dark and intense as he searches my face. “But not until you’re sure. You’re in control here, remember that.”

His words are like an invitation, a challenge, and I don’t know whether to fight it or give in. The air is thick with everything unsaid, and the only thing that matters right now is the promise of what could come next.

I tilt my head, meeting his gaze with a hint of defiance, my pulse still racing, but the words spill out before I can stop them. “What if I don’t want to be in control?”

The air thickens, heavy and charged. His hand tightens around my waist, and the teasing glint in his eyes vanishes. For a split second, he stares at me, like he’s deciding whether I’m serious or just pushing him.

Then his lips curl into a slow, dangerous smile. “You’re playing with fire, cailín,” he growls, voice rough, sending a shiver down my spine.

Without another word, he lifts me off the ground in one swift motion, pulling me flush against him. My legs wrap instinctively around his waist, and I gasp, feeling the raw heat of his body press into mine. His hands grip me firmly, possessively, and I can barely catch my breath.

“Left or right?” he growls against my ear, his voice low and demanding.

I don’t think. My hand shoots out, pointing right, and before I can even process it, he starts walking, his pace quick and unrelenting. The elevator doors close behind us, and the world outside is nothing but a blur, as his grip tightens around me. My breath hitches in my throat, the air thick with anticipation and the pulse of my own heartbeat.

I barely cling to him as we move down the hallway, his steps long, purposeful, and rapid, and the heat between us grows unbearable, consuming. His lips brush the side of my neck, and I shiver, unable to contain the soft moan that escapes my mouth. He responds with a growl, his grip tightening around my hips, pulling me even closer.

When we reach the door to my room, I grab his shoulders, my fingers digging in, breath coming faster, more frantic. “Stop,” I manage to say, my voice raw, trembling with need.

He doesn’t hesitate for a second. He halts, his body rigid with restraint as he lowers me slowly, but his eyes are dark, fierce, like he’s barely hanging on to control. His hands slide down my back, and the heat in his gaze smolders, setting every nerve in my body alight. I can feel the tension radiating off him, just inches from kissing me again, and everything in me aches to close the gap.

“I want you,” he rasps, his lips grazing mine, a warning and a promise. “Right now. No more games.”

His words ignite something wild in me. It’s not a request; it’s a command – and I’m ready to obey.

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