Page 107 of Knot Happening

His hands slide under my t-shirt, warm palms against my fevered skin, and the sensation makes me arch against him with a soft cry. Every touch sends waves of pleasure through my hypersensitive body, and I can feel the heat building toward something urgent and demanding.

"Your skin is so soft," he murmurs, his mouth trailing hot kisses down my throat. "So perfect. I can't believe you're really here, really mine."

"I'm yours," I gasp, my hands tugging at his clothes. "But I need to feel you too. I need your skin against mine."

We help each other out of our clothes with fumbling, desperate hands. When Marcus pulls my t-shirt over my head, when I push his shirt off his shoulders, the feeling of skin meeting skin is overwhelming. He's all hard muscle and warm flesh, his chest broad and strong, scattered with dark hair that I run my fingers through with wonder.

"Beautiful," I whisper, pressing my lips to his collarbone, tasting salt and heat and something essentially Marcus.

His response is a low growl that vibrates through his chest as he captures my mouth again. This kiss is hungrier, more demanding, his hands roaming over my newly bared skin with reverent touches.

When he cups my breast, when his thumb brushes over my nipple, I cry out with the intensity of sensation. "Marcus!"

"So responsive," he murmurs against my throat, his mouth finding the sensitive spot just below my ear. "Every sound you make drives me crazy, Belle."

He lavishes attention on my breasts, using his hands and mouth to drive me to the edge of madness. When he takes my nipple into his mouth, when he uses his tongue and teeth topleasure me, I think I might spontaneously combust from the intensity of it.

"Please," I gasp, my hands fisting in his hair. "Marcus, I need more. I need you."

"I know, sweetheart," he soothes, his hands skimming down my body to remove the last barriers between us. "I'm going to give you everything you need."

When we're finally completely naked, when the full length of his body is pressed against mine, the sensation is overwhelming. Marcus is bigger than I expected, all muscle and heat and barely controlled power. I can feel his arousal pressing against my thigh, hard and insistent, and the knowledge that he wants me this desperately makes my own need spike higher.

"Are you ready for me?" he asks, settling between my thighs, his voice tight with the effort of holding himself back. "Belle, I need you to be sure. Once I'm inside you, once we start the bonding process, there's no going back."

"I'm sure," I tell him, reaching up to cup his face. "Marcus, I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I want you. I want this. I want us."

He positions himself at my entrance, the broad head of him pressing against me, hot and demanding. The anticipation is almost unbearable, my body crying out for completion, for connection, for him.

"Look at me," he requests softly. "I want to see your face when I claim you."

I meet his eyes, seeing the love and desire and fierce protectiveness there, and then he's pushing inside me slowly, carefully, giving my body time to adjust to the invasion. The stretch is intense, overwhelming, perfect in ways that make me cry out with relief and pleasure.

"God," Marcus groans, his control hanging by a thread as he works himself deeper. "Belle, you feel incredible. So tight, so perfect, so mine."

"Yours," I agree breathlessly, my body adjusting to accommodate him. "Always yours, Marcus."

When he's finally seated fully inside me, when we're joined as completely as two people can be, we both go still, overwhelmed by the intensity of the connection. I can feel him pulsing inside me, can sense his desperate need to move, to claim, to bond.

"How do you feel?" he asks, his forehead pressed against mine.

"Full," I breathe. "Complete. Like this is exactly where I'm supposed to be."

He begins to move then, slowly at first, then with increasing intensity as my body responds to his. Each thrust sends waves of sensation through my heat-sensitized system, but it's more than just physical pleasure. Something is happening in my mind, a warmth spreading through my consciousness that has nothing to do with my body and everything to do with Marcus.

"I can feel something," I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders as he sets a rhythm that drives me steadily toward madness. "In my mind. It's like... like you're becoming part of me."

"That's the bond," Marcus explains, his voice rough with exertion and emotion. "We're connecting, Belle. Really connecting. Can you feel what I'm feeling?"

I reach out with my consciousness, and suddenly I'm flooded with his love, his fierce protectiveness, his overwhelming satisfaction at finally being able to claim me. The sensation is so intense that tears spring to my eyes.

"I can feel how much you love me," I whisper, wonder in my voice. "It's like... like having another heart beating in my chest."

"That's exactly what it is," he says, angling his hips to hit that spot inside me that makes me see stars. "You're part of me now, Belle. Forever."

The bond strengthens with every thrust, every kiss, every whispered endearment. I can feel Marcus's thoughts and emotions flowing through the connection, and I know he can feel mine too. The intimacy is overwhelming, not just physical, but emotional and spiritual.

"Marcus," I gasp, feeling the tension building toward something urgent and demanding. "I'm close. I can feel... something building."

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