Page 67 of Chain Me Knot

“I'm... I'm going to...” I can barely form words.

He hums against me in encouragement, the vibrations sending me flying over the precipice. My orgasm crashes over me, starting at my core and radiating outto every nerve ending. I cry out his name as I pulse around his fingers and mouth, wave after wave of intense pleasure making my vision go white at the edges.

Through it all, Soren continues to suckle and tease, prolonging my peak until it borders on too much. He licks me in soothing strokes as I force my fingers to unclench. He works me through aftershocks and murmurs praise.

When the last tremors fade, he presses a kiss to my inner thigh. The gesture is so intimate, so reverent, that it makes my heart clench. He rests his forehead against my knee for a moment, as if composing himself.

Then shame takes hold.

Icy fingers crash over me, dousing the warmth of my heat spike and my feel-good afterglow.

Fuck.

Fuck.

I’ve let an alpha touch me. Gave into my heat andenjoyed it.

I can’t stop the whip of words carving a path against my skull.

Slut.

Whore.

Only good for one thing.

I become rigid on the countertop, held captive by the scars of my past.

Soren curses, stands, and wraps his arms around me as my tears well and fall, streaking down my cheeks in hot trails. “Emma? Butterfly, what's wrong?”

I can't answer, sobs choking my words. I cover my face with my hands, trying to hide from him, from myself, from the mess of emotions twisting in my chest. I enjoyed what he did. Why am I reacting like this?

Fuck I’m a mess.

Then a sound reaches me through the ringing in my ears. A deep, rumbling purr emanates from Soren's chest. The vibrations travel through me where I'm pressed against him, soothing something raw and wounded deep inside.

Alpha purr. Catnip for omegas.

The Carmichaels never purred. Not once, in all the time they had me, did they offer this comfort.

I wasn’t worth the effort, but Soren…his purr is freely offered. It’s deep and steady, and is a balm to my battered soul.

Soren isn’t Pack Carmichel.

Phoenix isn’t Pack Carmichael.

Even Asher, who took what I didn’t offer, has deeply regretted his actions because the emotions he pumps through our bond can’t lie.

Have to stop comparing.

I relax in Soren’s arms, letting his purr and his scent do their job. My sobs quiet to hiccups and shuddering breaths.

His large palms cup my cheeks and guide my gaze to his. “Did I do something to upset you? Did I hurt you? Please tell me, Emma before I fuck this up more than I already have.”

I shake my head against his chest. “You…didn’t fuck anything up.”You only highlighted how fucked up Pack Carmichael is. How out of control I really am. You were just between my thighs and I’m a sobbing mess.

“You were... you were perfect. It's me. I'm all wrong. I shouldn't... I'm not supposed to...”

He pulls them from my face. His eyes find mine, bright with sincerity. “Emma, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You're an omega. I'm your scent-matched alpha. Helping you through your heat, giving you pleasure... it's anhonor. One I'm grateful you allowed me.”

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