Page 27 of Knot Their Opening Act

Who knew.

“Wait, just wait, one thing first!” I hop out of the bed and flop open my giant suitcase. From it I pull the waffle-weave blanket I always travel with, and my roll-up travel pillow that unfolds violently. I plump these up on the bed alongside the massive pile of no less than six giant pillows. Then I dart around the suite, taking throw pillows from the sofas and chairs.

Then I reach into my huge carryon, pull out my games console which is always wrapped like a golden egg. I set this gently on the table near the wall-mounted TV, then from my bag I pull my anxiety medication. I pop one of these, take a sip from my water bottle, then wriggle back into the bed.

I watch Thomas’s eyes flit from the games console, with a brow raised, back over to me.

I want to tell him so many things. Like, it’s my first time since Tristan, who wasn’t great, and wasn’t attentive.

Like I was crazy in heat the first time. I wanted things I never thought I’d want.

Like I don’t know what to expect after this, but my slick is dripping down my inner thighs so I want to find out.

Under the blankets I remove the robe and drop it off the edge of the bed.

“The only warning I can give is that I want you to take control. I want to be out of control. I want you to tell me what to do.” I don’t know why I’m saying this. I don’t want to be out of control, do I? Is this my Omega talking? It comes out without warning, and my brain feels like it’s been hijacked.

But I kind of love it, too.

Thomas looks like he’s won the lottery, but before he responds, I hop out of the covers and pull him to the bed, yanking his boxers down around his legs, which become a jumble.

“Are you still cold, rock star?” he says. I shake my head.

“Then let’s discard the disguise, shall we?” He sits back up on his haunches and the duvet falls away. We’re both naked.

We take in each other’s bodies in the late morning light, flitting through the peach-hued curtains. The bed is soft and huge, and the light is just right.

“Flip over, Jesamine,” says Thomas in a husky voice.

Oh my God. My slick drops down my legs as I turn over slowly, on all fours.

He places his large, warm hand on the small of my back, and slowly I lower to the mattress.

“I want you to spread your legs,” he commands, “and I’m going to press my fingers inside you from behind. I want you to rock back on them, over and over, until I put my fingers inside your ass.”

Oh, Jesus. I wasn’t expectingthat.Not from the mildest-mannered one of the bunch. My breasts swing down, my rock-hard nipples rubbing against the sheet as I rock back and forth into his fingers, which slide up into my slit. His thumb finds my clit and draws circles on it. My body slows down and my stomach draws up tight. I’m desperate to enjoy this sensation that’s zinging through me, but then Thomas’s voice comes out unyielding.

“I didn’t say you could stop rocking, Jesamine. Faster.”

“Yes, sir,” I say without thinking.

“God, say that again.”

I turn my head to look over my shoulder as he runs his curled fingers up his cock, squeezing tight then pulling back off.

“Yes,sir,” I say more loudly.

“Ohh, God.”

He moves his fingers from my swollen folds to my ass, tentatively sliding in and out, reaching around and grabbing a handful of breast now and then. I’m so wet that the fitted sheet’s drenched already.

“Stay focused, my rock star,” he says fondly. “Keep rocking. Gets you nice and wet in all the right places.”

“Don’t think I could be more any more,” I whisper. I want him now and don’t want to wait. “I want you inside me. Thomas, I want?—”

“I’m in charge here, I believe,” he says, more like a university professor every second and it’s going to make me cum again, just from his voice alone. His fingers, though, plunge deeper into my ass, and then, without warning, he gasps.

“I can’t wait. Jesamine. May I?—”

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