Page 33 of Knot Made to Break: Part Two

Marco laughed, the sound rich and intoxicating. “That’s it. She’s got more to give if you want it.”

I pressed down further, marveling at how the car didn’t lurch. Rather, it simply responded, doing what I asked without grumbling like my old Honda used to anytime I tried to push the old girl to hit 65 on the highway.

Instead, this car—Veronica, I decided to name her—seemed to anticipate my desires before I fully formed them. My knuckles whitened slightly on the wheel before I forced myself to relax, to surrender to the speed and the moment.

Pure, unadulterated joy bubbled up inside me, spilling out in a laugh that surprised even me. This was freedom—real, tangible freedom that coursed through my veins like electricity. For the first time in longer than I could remember, I wasn’t thinking about surviving, about carefully measuring each word and action to avoid pain. I was simply...living.

Marco watched me with hunger in his eyes, his gaze tracing over my flushed cheeks and parted lips. I could feel the weight of his attention like a physical touch, and it heightened everything. The dangerous thrill. The giddy excitement. The unadulterated joy. The way he looked at me—like I was something fierce andprecious all at once—made me feel more alive than even the speed did.

“You’re fucking beautiful like this, Kit.” His voice was rough with emotion. “Like you’re finally letting yourself feel something good.”

The road twisted ahead, challenging my newfound confidence. I eased off the accelerator slightly, focusing on the curve that approached. My body moved intuitively with the vehicle, leaning into the turn as if we were dancing together. The car took the curve with an elegant precision I envied.

What I wouldn’t give to be that graceful… that purposeful…

Marco’s hand found my thigh, warm and heavy through the fabric of my dress. My breath hitched at the contact, but I kept my eyes firmly on the road, hyper-aware of his touch as his fingers began a slow, deliberate massage.

“You’re a natural,” he murmured, and somehow I knew he wasn’t just talking about my driving anymore.

His hand gathered fabric, sliding beneath my skirt. It inched higher, fingers tracing patterns on the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. My body responded instantly, a warmth pooling low in my belly. I shifted slightly in my seat, my focus on the road wavering for just a second.

The car swerved slightly before I corrected, my heart pounding against my ribs.

“M-Marco!” I protested, though there was no real conviction behind it.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Eyes on the road, Angel,” he murmured, the command gentle but unmistakable.

His fingers trailed higher and brushed my panties, finding the dampness that had already gathered between my thighs. I gasped, fighting to keep the car steady as he traced the edges of my underwear with teasing lightness.

“Marco.” This time it was a plea rather than a protest.

“I’ve got you,” he promised as his fingers pushed aside the thin fabric barrier to touch me directly.

The duality of control and surrender—hands on the wheel, Marco’s touch on my skin—sent a heady surge of heat and anticipation through me. My knuckles turned white on the steering wheel as I fought to keep it together, breath hitching with a needy gasp.

The road continued to wind before us, each curve requiring my concentration even as Marco’s skilled fingers worked to shatter it. He knew exactly how to touch me, how to build the pressure slowly until I was trembling.

“That’s it,” he encouraged as I navigated a particularly challenging stretch of road without faltering, despite the distraction of his fingers grazing over my clit. “You’re doing so well, Angel.”

His fingers teased at my entrance while his thumb kept pressure where I needed it most. My pussy clenched, and I couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped me, my concentration fracturing. The speedometer hovered dangerously high, the engine’s purr harmonizing with my increasingly desperate moans.

“Marco, I can’t...” I managed to gasp, unsure if I was referring to the driving or the building pressure, the nearing crest.

“You can,” he countered, confidence radiating from him as his fingers moved more deliberately, one, then two slipping inside. The stretch was incredible, and soon, he found that perfect rhythm that he knew would unravel me completely. “I’m right here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The promise in his words extended beyond this moment. I knew in my heart that my Alphas would always take care of me. The surety of it wrapped around me, allowing me to surrender tothe pleasure even as I maintained just enough control to keep us safe.

The car hugged another curve and Marco curled his fingers, finding the perfect spot. The pressure built to an almost unbearable peak. My thighs trembled, my breathing ragged as Marco intensified his movements, knowing exactly how to drive me to the edge.

“Let go for me,” he commanded. “I’ve got you, Kit.”

My orgasm crashed through me like a tidal wave.

“Oh, fuck! Marco!”

Every muscle in my body tensed while my pussy clenched, gripping his fingers, riding the waves of bliss as he continued to rub against every sensitive spot. It took everything in me to keep my eyes open, to somehow keep the car on the road through the haze of pleasure. My hands gripped the wheel so tightly the leather creaked.

Marco murmured praise while gradually slowing his movements as the intensity subsided. My body continued to tremble in the aftermath, hypersensitive and boneless all at once.

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