Page 161 of Knot Unwanted: Part One

“You’re right,” she whispers, but her voice has gone thick. Arousal. “This…this is about me.” Her softly said but brave words almost make me grin. But if I open my mouth I’m sure I’ll release the myriad of absolutely filthy thoughts circling in my head.

Instead, I swallow hard as I watch her hand slide down her stomach, her fingers toying with the water swirling around her navel. Her gaze drops to where my hand rests on the edge of the tub, her eyes dark and dilated.

I watch her, my heart pounding against my ribs. The need to touch her, to taste her, is a burning ache in my gut.She’s so beautiful, I think, my gaze tracing the curve of her hip, the swell of her breast. So fucking perfect.

Another wave of heat washes over her, her body arching, her head thrown back. A low moan escapes her lips, a sound that sends a shiver down my spine.

“Finn…” she whimpers, her fingers flexing against the smooth porcelain of the tub.

The water isn’t enough. I can smell it on her, the rising tide of her hunger, the desperate need for something more.

My hand finds the warmth of her thigh and I stroke the smooth, wet skin, watching the shivers dance across her flesh. Her breath hitches, a soft gasp escaping her lips. I savor the feel of her, the delicate tremble beneath my fingertips, wanting to memorize every inch.

Slowly, my hand travels higher, tracing the curve of her hip, dipping into the delicate hollow of her waist. I linger there, my thumb caressing the sensitive skin just above the ghost of her discarded sweatpants. She arches into my touch, a low moan rumbling in her throat.

My palm glides over the soft swell of her stomach, the gentle curve of her ribs. Her skin burns beneath my touch, flushed and so beautiful. My fingers brush the underside of her breast and she inhales sharply, her body tensing with anticipation. I have to fight the urge to groan.

I cup her breast, my thumb circling her nipple, teasing it, drawing a moan from her lips that vibrates against my hand. Her head falls back against the edge of the tub, her throat exposed, vulnerable. The sight sends a jolt of pure possessiveness through me.

I lower my head, my lips brushing against her heated skin, inhaling her scent. She’s honey and vanilla and pure omega. So fucking delicious. So fucking intoxicating. My tongue darts out, tracing the delicate curve of her collarbone, the pulse fluttering beneath. She shivers, her breath catching in her throat.

My lips find her nipple, and I draw it into my mouth, sucking gently. She arches, a soft cry escaping her lips as her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer. Fuck. My eyes roll back as I lose myself in the taste of her. So sweet, so fucking perfect. The thought of claiming her, marking her as mine, flashes through my mind, the urge so strong it makes my cock throbhard.

She whimpers, her hips rocking restlessly in the water, the movement a silent invitation I can’t ignore. I want to taste her everywhere even as my lips remain latched onto her nipple. I want to feel her wrapped around me, her legs locked around my waist as my cock slides?—

She pulls me closer, her nails digging into my scalp. “Finn…” she gasps, her voice thick. “More…”

The word is a command, a plea, and I obey without hesitation,my tongue leaving her nipple, my teeth nipping gently at the hardened peak. She cries out, her body writhing beneath my touch, her scent growing stronger, sweeter, more intoxicating with each passing moment.

My hand moves to her other breast, lavishing it with attention. My fingers knead the soft flesh, my thumb teasing her nipple to a hard, aching peak. She whimpers, fingers tightening in my hair, my name on her lips.

I can’t help but trail my fingers down her side, over the curve of her hip, back to the inside of her thigh. I linger there, savoring the feel of her slick heat against the coolness of the water. Hailey must sense how close I am. Must feel it, too. She trembles, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she opens her eyes and our gazes lock.

I swallow hard, gaze still locked with hers as my hand hovers just above her pubic bone. The dark curls are a silent invitation I can no longer resist.

“Hailey…” I croak. I don’t move my gaze from hers, searching for any sign of hesitation, any hint that she wants me to stop. But there’s only heat in her eyes, a raw need that mirrors my own.

My fingers trace the delicate curve of her hip, then dip lower, exploring the soft skin of her inner thigh. She moans, her body trembling beneath my touch. I stroke her gently, my fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles, teasing the sensitive skin just above her heat.

“I’m going to touch you,” I murmur. I watch her closely, my heart pounding against my ribs. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

Her hand finds mine, her fingers twining with my own, pulling my hand closer. “Please,” she whispers, voice ragged. “Touch me, Finn.”

My fingers brush against her slick folds, and she gasps, her hips bucking against my hand. “Are you ready?” But my control is hanging by a thread. The need to taste her, to feel her wrapped around me, is almost overwhelming.

She nods, her eyes fluttering closed, her lips parting in a silent invitation. “Yes,” she breathes. “Please.”

Only then do my fingers glide over her folds. So slick and hot. And the way she gasps—the way her whole body jolts at the contact—makes my cock throb painfully. For a moment, she tenses beneath me, her breath catching, but then she melts, her thighs parting wider like an invitation I can’t refuse.

“Such a good girl,” I murmur. I almost don’t recognize my voice. So low, almost reverent. As my thumb brushes her clit, and I feel the delicate nub pulse under my touch, hardening as I circle it slowly. Hailey’s hips jerk, a helpless, desperate motion, and when her soft cry slips from her lips, I nearly lose it. Pre-cum drips from my cock, and I bite back a groan.

“Fuck, Hailey,” I whisper, sliding a finger into her, her heat gripping me so tightly it’s like her body doesn’t want to let me go. She arches sharply, a breathless moan spilling out as her nails dig into my arm. I stroke her slowly, deliberately, savoring the way she trembles with every movement.

“That’s it,” I breathe, sliding a second finger inside her, stretching her just enough. “You take me so well. So perfect, sunshine.” Her whimper sends a fresh wave of heat crashing through me, and I press my forehead to hers, watching her face as her pleasure builds.

Her hips rock against my hand, greedy for more, and I reward her with the curl of my fingers, stroking her deeper, hitting that spot that makes her cry out. “You’re so tight,” I whisper, my lips brushing her cheek, my voice edged with awe. “So wet for me. Do you feel how good you’re doing? How perfect you are?”

“Yes,” she gasps, her hands clutching at me, her body trembling. “Oh, God, Finn—yes.”

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