Page 87 of Knotting With A Stranger

“I know.” And I do. This isn’t just about physical relief anymore. It’s about crossing a line, making a choice that can’t be unmade.

I move closer to him, a smile playing at the corners of my lips as I kneel in the water before him. The position should feel submissive, but somehow, I’ve never felt more powerful. His eyes darken as he watches me, pupils dilating until only a thin ring of gray remains.

“You know what?” I say, resting my hands on his thighs, feeling the muscles tense. “I think I might be ready for that Alpha touch after all.”

Yet, a shadow of doubt crosses my mind. What am I doing? Who am I becoming? And when this is all over, will there be anything left of the Lily I used to be?

20

LILY

I’m kneeling on the inner ledge of the spa, water streaming down my body and rolling over my exposed breasts as I face James. I’m shivering, scared, excited. His gaze follows every droplet with ruthless intensity, sharp and insatiable.

“Look at you,” he moans, that dark voice raising goosebumps across my skin. “Fucking gorgeous.”

There’s something dangerous in his expression that turns me on, fire pooling between my thighs. My heat has wrapped around my mind like a warm blanket, muffling my thoughts like they did earlier in the day. The cool air against my wet skin, the heavy thud of my heartbeat, the intoxicating scent of James—it’s all overwhelming.

“You just going to stare?” I challenge, finding my words despite the fog of desire clouding my thoughts. “Because I could get dressed and go if?—”

“Shut up, Lily,” he says, the command soft but unmistakable. “You’re not going anywhere.”

I should be offended. Should tell him to go to hell. Instead, a traitorous quiver runs down my spine.

“Make me,” I whisper.

His eyes darken further, storm clouds gathering. “Careful what you wish for, little baker. I’m not as gentle as Hunter.”

The mention of Hunter should cool my ardor and remind me of what happened earlier today. Instead, it only seems to amplify the ache inside me.

“Who said I wanted gentle?” The words escape before I can reconsider them, bold and brazen in the steamy air between us, just like when I asked Hunter to bind me.

“Oh, sweet girl.” James’s laugh is dark, almost cruel. “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”

He stands in one fluid motion, thumbs hooking into the waistband of his boxers. My breath catches as he slides them down his powerful thighs and kicks them aside, standing before me in all his damn glory. I’ve seen naked men before, but nothing compares to Alphas at their peak, stirring something raw and instinctive inside me.

He’s magnificent—all hard planes and defined muscle—but it’s the size of his offering that makes my eyes bulge, intimidation momentarily breaking through my heat-induced confidence. His cock is thick, heavy, a big vein running the long length, his hair above it cropped short, somehow making him look bigger.

“Having second thoughts?” he grunts, a knowing smirk playing at his lips.

I want to say something witty, something that puts us back on even footing, but my brain seems to have short-circuited, leaving me speechless for perhaps the first time in my life.

“I thought not,” he states as he sits back on the edge of the tub. “Come closer.”

It’s not a request. It’s a command issued with the certainty of someone who expects to be obeyed. And God help me, I want to obey. Want to surrender to whatever this is between us.

I shuffle closer, the water sloshing gently around me. “Bossy much?”

“You have no idea.” His hand comes up to cup my cheek, thumb brushing across my lower lip in a gesture that’s somehow both tender and possessive. “But I think you like it. I think you’re tired of always being in control, always having to make the decisions, run the business, be the responsible one.”

The observation hits too close to home, exposing a vulnerability I usually keep carefully hidden. I drop my gaze, uncomfortable with how easily he’s read me.

“Hey.” His fingers tilt my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes again. “Don’t hide from me.”

“I’m not hiding,” I protest, but it sounds weak even to my own ears.

“Liar,” he says, but there’s no heat in the accusation. “It’s okay to want this, Lily. To need it.”

“Is it?” I whisper, voicing the fear that’s been gnawing at me since I first presented with my heat. “Because it feels like I’m losing myself. Like I’m turning into someone I don’t recognize.”

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