Page 92 of Knot Unwanted: Part One

Stop this. Calm down, Finn. This isn’t right. These thoughts are wrong.

What’s worse is that I shouldn’t be responding like this at all. I’m anomega. Her scent shouldn’t affect me this way, shouldn’t be making me respond in kind. Because that’s what’s happening—I’mperfuming too, my scent rising to meet hers like we’re meant to match. Like we’re…

The thought stops me cold. Her scent isn’t just compatible, it’sperfect. It carries that indefinable quality, that bone-deep recognition that saysmine. But that’s impossible. I’m already mated—and I’m an omega!

The bond marks on my neck seem to burn with accusation. Three alphas who chose me, who trusted me, and here I am responding to another omega like some kind of deviant.

Yet I can’t deny how she smells like belonging, like home, like she was made to fit into the empty spaces in my life. Spaces that shouldn’t exist, not when I have three mates. But god help me, they do exist—have existed, I realize now, even before things started falling apart.

An omega forming a bond with another omega? It doesn’t make sense. What would it even mean for Ren, Jax, and Stone? The implications are staggering. But FUCK, I want her. Want her in ways that make me question everything I thought I knew about myself, about what I am.

The thought sends a nervous chill through me. The last time I felt like this was at that charity gala when I met Ren. Back when everything made sense, when I still believed in fairy tales about perfect matches and happily ever afters. I must be going fucking crazy to even consider that this isn’t just loneliness and touch starvation that are causing me to?—

“Finn?” Hailey whispers, eyelids still fluttering, her brows knitting slightly.

“Hey,” I murmur, one hand moving to cup her jaw. Her skin is feverishly warm against my palm. She leans into the touch instinctively, those wide eyes searching mine with a mix of confusion and something deeper, more primal. Something she clearly doesn’t understand as her body responds to cues she’s probably never felt before. The innocence in her expression makes my guilt sharper, heavier.

The scent of cedar drifts stronger from the hallway. Jax. He’s lingering, probably picking up on the change in our combined scents. I should care. Should stop this before it goes any further. But Hailey’s looking at me like I’m something precious and dangerous all at once, and I can’t remember why I’m supposed to resist this magnetic pull between us. Can’t remember my own name when she’s trembling against me like this.

“I…” she starts, then stops, biting her lip. The gesture draws my attention to her mouth. “I feel…hot.” Her voice is small, uncertain. She thinks she’s getting sick? A fever? She probably doesn’t even realize she’s rocking slightly against me, seeking relief from sensations she’s probably never been allowed to experience before.

“I know,” I breathe, because I do. This shouldn’t be possible, this electric connection between two omegas. And yet here we are, her body melting against mine like she belongs there, her scent wrapping around me like silk. Like a promise I have no right to make, not when I’m already bound to others. The mate bonds on my neck pulse with awareness, and still I can’t stop.

Hailey’s breath hitches as my thumb traces her lower lip, feather-light. She’s trembling, but not from fear. No, this is something else entirely—desire she doesn’t recognize, need she can’t name. The air between us feels thick, charged with possibility and guilt in equal measure.

“Finn,” she whispers again, and this time my name sounds like a question and an answer both. Her fingers curl into my shirt, tangling in the fabric like she needs an anchor. Like she’s drowning in sensations she doesn’t understand. “I…I don’t feel like myself. I think I’m coming down with something. I think I’m sick.”

The statement breaks something in me. Because I know exactly what’s happening—her first awakening, triggered by whatever impossible connection exists between us. And I should be the last person to guide her through this. Should get up right now and walk away before I destroy the fragile trust she’s placed in me.

My eyes shift over her head, catching Jax’s gaze from the doorway.I don’t have to explain what’s happening. He already knows. He can smell it.

His throat moves as he watches us, and for a moment, the weight of his stare pins me in place. This is wrong. We both know it’s wrong. He should be dragging me away from her, not standing there with that unreadable expression. But then his eyes soften with understanding, and he gives me a slight nod.

The permission in that gesture throws me. Jax has always been the voice of reason between us, the one who pulls us back from the edge. But now…now he’s telling me to jump. My grip tightens on Hailey’s waist as uncertainty wars with need. One heartbeat. Two. Then something in his steady gaze settles the storm in my chest.

I lean closer, drawn by some force stronger than conscience or reason. “Tell me to stop,” I whisper against her lips, giving her one last chance to save us both. But she doesn’t. Instead, she makes this soft, desperate sound that undoes the last of my restraint.

When our lips finally meet, it’s like touching a live wire. She freezes for just a moment before melting into the kiss with a whimper that shoots straight through me. She tastes like possibility and redemption andsinall at once.

The first taste of her is devastating. Sweet, addictive, like honeyed wine on my tongue. She responds with innocent enthusiasm, following my lead as I guide her through the kiss. When I trace her bottom lip with my tongue, she gasps, and the sound shoots straight through me.

My hand tightens in her hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss further. She opens for me beautifully, trustingly, and I groan at the wet slide of her tongue against mine. Her inexperience is obvious in the best possible way—every reaction pure and unfiltered. If this is her first kiss, I make an oath right here and now to make it good. When I suck gently on her tongue, she whimpers and presses closer, her hips rolling unconsciously against mine.

The movement sends sparks of pleasure through my already aching cock. Her scent is deepening by the second, that sweetnesstaking on notes of arousal that make my head spin. I can smell the first hints of her slick, and gods help me, but I want to taste her there, too. Want to spread her open and lap at her until she’s crying my name, want to drink down every drop of her pleasure until?—

I wrench my thoughts back from that dangerous edge, but it’s too late. The image is seared into my brain, making my cock throb painfully against the confines of my sweatpants. Making my own entrance clench as my tip weeps with want.

She breaks the kiss with a gasp, panting against my mouth. Her pupils are blown wide, lips swollen and wet. The sight of her like this—debauched from just my kisses—makes something possessive and feral rise in my chest.

“Finn,” she breathes, and her voice has taken on a needy quality that tests my already fragile control. “I’m sorry, I…”

I don’t even care that I whimper. It’s high, piercing the stillness in the room as it escapes my throat. “No.” I run the tip of my tongue across my lower lip. “Don’t apologize.”

She whimpers too, looking lost. “I don’t know…I need…”

I know exactly what she needs. She needs someone to take care of her. To guide her through this. To make her feel so good, she forgets her own name.

She needs to be touched. She needs me to spread her open, to taste every inch of her until she’s begging for more. She needs me to push her past the edge, to show her how good it can feel when she lets go.

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