Page 125 of Chain Me Knot

“Hold on, Emma,” he growls, the sound low and possessive, thick with the edge of his own need. “Just a little farther. I’ve got you. We’ve all got you.”

Phoenix ghosts a hand over my hip, steering us through the labyrinthine staff hallway lined with crates and utility doors. Soren, silent and deadly on my other side, scans every shadow. They keep me cocooned, growling at anyone who so much as glances my way. Asher doesn’t slow, his stride predatory and sure as he carries me down flights of stairs hidden from the gala’s velvet chaos, the air dense with the scent of alphas and my own sickly-sweet perfume.

The voices and footsteps trailing us fade into a distant, meaningless buzz. Soren’s hand tangles with mine, thumb stroking over my pulse, grounding me, and Phoenix lets out a string of curses under his breath whenever someone’s path crosses ours, his body tensed like a live wire as I start to writhe in my alpha’s grip.

There’s a rush of night air, headlights in the alley, and then Asher is gently setting me on my feet long enough to bundle me into the back seat of the car.Soren slides in on my right, Phoenix on my left, the solid heat of their bodies caging me into the soft leather of the back seat. Asher takes the wheel, his hands white-knuckled, focus burning in the rearview as he guns the engine, its growly purr vibrating through me.

Streetlights flash by in shuddering golden streaks, the city sliding past in a blur. Every second I spend without them is too long. A molten ache twists through me. My thighs press together, seeking relief, but it’s not enough. Soren’s hand slides up the inside of my arm, slow but purposeful, his eyes warm and dark and hungry as they trace my face. Phoenix’s palm comes to rest at the inside of my knee, thumb drawing lazy circles that do nothing to soothe, only to inflame.

Another cramp rips through me, sharp and savage and so strong I cry out, arching between them. I grab at Soren’s knee, Phoenix’s forearm, desperate, my breath coming in ragged sobs.

“Please. Alpha.” My voice is little more than a breathless whimper.

Asher’s gaze flicks up in the rearview, eyes dark and wild, possessive with command. “Brothers, our omega asks for you. Give her the release she needs,” he growls.

Soren’s arm slides around my waist, gentle but unyielding, and he leans close enough that his lips brush the shell of my ear, his own breath trembling with restraint. “Come here, Butterfly. Let me help you.”

He pulls me onto his lap, my legs falling around his hips. His sandalwood sharpens, heavy with musk as his erection presses against my clit and burning flames engulf me. Soren cradles my face in one big hand, his thumb stroking my cheek as I whimper at this first, delicious touch. “Please, Omega,” Soren says. “Let me give you what you need.”

Chapter Forty-Nine

Soren

The car flies through the night, streetlights streaking past the windows in smears of gold. Asher drives like a man possessed, his grip white-knuckled on the steering wheel, the city blurring around us as he weaves through traffic. The mission clings to us. Leah’s broken body, Hardwick’s fleeing scent, Pack Hawthorne’s furious growls as they charged after her.

None of that matters now.

Because Emma is in my lap.

Her scent saturates the car, honeysuckle and vanilla thick enough to drown in. It slams into my lungs and I shudder, my cock throbbing against the seam of my pants. She shifts, her thighs bracketing mine, her damp core pressing down against where I’m alreadyaching for her.

Fuck.

She’s so soft in my arms, her curves pliant against my chest, her fingers gripping my shoulders like she’s afraid I’ll vanish, but her breathing is ragged, her sadness a dull throb in our bond. Unacceptable, so I tilt her chin and claim her mouth.

No hesitation.

No gentleness.

Because she doesn’t need that from me now. She needs heat and teeth and to feel how she turns me on. My tongue sweeps inside, tasting the salt of her lingering tears, swallowing her whimper as my hands slide under her dress. The fabric is flimsy and wet between her thighs, and when my fingers brush her seam over the material of her thong, she jerks against me, a gasp breaking our kiss.

“Alpha!”

I don’t answer. Just drag the material to the side and bare her to my touch.

My fingers glide through her slick, gathering the wetness before circling her clit—once, twice—just to feel her squirm. Her hips roll, seeking more friction. I give it to her, sinking two fingers deep into her clenching heat.

“Fuck,” I grit out, my forehead dropping to hers. “You’re drowning me, Omega.”

She whines, her body undulating on my hand, her pussy fluttering around my fingers as if begging for something thicker. My cock throbs in response, trapped and neglected, but I don’t free it—not yet.

Instead, I curl my fingers and rub that spot inside her until her back arches, until her nails dig into my biceps, until her scent turns ravenous.

“Come for me,” I order, my lips against her ear. “Let me feel you fall apart.”

Crying out, her thighs clamp around mine. Slick gushes over my fingers as her orgasm rips through her.

Asher growls, his knuckles tightening on the wheel. Beside us, Phoenix wraps his fingers around Emma’s throat and turns her face to his. Then his mouth is on hers, hot, demanding, relentless. There’s no finesse, just hunger, his tongue sweeping in to claim every whimper she makes as I suck her slick from my fingers.

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