Page 66 of Chain Me Knot

Realization dawns in his eyes. “You’re having another heat spike.”

Panic claws through the haze of need. Heat means vulnerability, pain; means being used in the worst ways. Everything to fear. Nothing to want.

The last time I ended up in the pool.

Now there's a beach outside, and the waves might really wash me away.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Emma

Soren cradles my face in gentle hands. “It's okay. This won’t be like the other time. I won't let this hurt you, Emma. Not even your own body.”

His promise wraps around me like a balm, easing the edges of my fear. This is Soren, who stopped when I asked, who gave me pleasure without taking any for himself, who looks at me like I'm something precious.

Maybe heat with him—with them—doesn't have to be something to dread.

Maybe it can be something to savor.

The thought sends another rush of molten need through my veins, and I arch against him with a whimper. “Please,” I gasp, fingers digging into his forearms. “I need... Soren, please...”

His eyesdarken, alpha instincts rising to meet my omega's call. “I've got you,” he rumbles, lifting me from the cooling water. “Let's get you dry. Then I'll take care of you, I promise.”

Soren wraps a soft towel around my dripping form, the fabric feeling rough against my hypersensitive skin. He starts to dry me, but a sudden cramp tears through my abdomen, making me double over with a gasp. The heat is overwhelming, all-consuming. Even the light touch of the towel is almost unbearable. “I can't... it's too much. Please, I need...”

Understanding flashes in his beautiful eyes, followed by a determined set to his jaw. He lifts me effortlessly, setting me on the cool marble of the bathroom counter. The chill against my heated skin feels so good.

“I've got you,” he soothes, hands running up and down my thighs. “My fingers helped before, but my mouth... that might be even better.” His gaze meets mine, seeking permission even as his scent spikes with desire. “Can I help you with my mouth, Emma?”

The thought of his lips, his tongue, on my most intimate place sends a bolt of pure want straight to my core. Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what I need. His mouth. His tongue. His teeth.

My omega demands his cock and his knot too, but even as I open my lips to plead, the words lock in my throat. Soren spreads my legs gently, settling between them on his knees. “I've got you. Just let me take care of you.”

And I realize, with startling clarity, that I trust him to do just that. To help me, to soothe me, to guide me through this fire without letting it consume me.

Soren's hands slide up my thighs, settling between them like he belongs there, his broad shoulders nudging my knees further apart. His breath ghosts over my heated flesh, making me twitch with anticipation.

His gaze drops to the apex of my thighs, where slick glistens sticky and clean on my skin. The scent of my arousal, honeysuckle and omega need blooms between us. His nostrils flare as he inhales deeply, pupils dilating until only a thin ring of hazel remains.

“You're breathtaking,” he murmurs, reverence in every syllable.

A whine corkscrews out of me. His words, low and rough with desire, make the ache between my thighs sharpen to a keen edge.

He licks his lips, as his gaze rises to lock with mine. “I want to worship you, Emma. Want to taste every inch of your skin, learn every secret place that makes you sigh and moan.”

“Please,” I whisper, the word falling from my lips like an offering.

He leans forward, his fingers circling my thighs, my body thrumming with anticipation. I’m open to him now. Completely bared, offering that most private part of myself.

When his mouth finds my center, I lose the ability to think. My eyelids flutter shut and my head falls back against the mirror. His tongue is hot velvet against my folds, lapping and stroking. He explores me thoroughly, tasting, testing, finding every spot that makes me writhe and moan.

As he focuses on my clit, alternating between broad strokes and targeted flicks, the coil in my belly winds tighter. My hands find his hair, fingers tangling in the short strands as I urge him closer. He responds with a groan that vibrates through my core, making my toes curl.

“Soren,” I pant, hips rocking against his face as the pressure builds. “I'm close...”

He seals his lips around my clit and sucks. The direct stimulation sends lightning bolts of pleasure shooting through my core, making me arch off the counter. At the same time, he slides two fingers into my dripping channel, curling them to stroke that sensitive spot inside.

He pumps his fingers in time with the flicks of his tongue, the dual sensations rapidly pushing me toward the edge. As the pressure builds, my thighs tremble around his head. I'm vaguely aware of the sounds I'm making, breathy moans and gasps that echo off the bathroom tiles. My fingers are a death grip in his hair and I grind against his face.

---