Page 49 of Knotting else Matters

“Is that right?” I murmured, a slow, wicked smile tugging at my lips. “Afraid I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself?”

“Oh, you definitely won’t.” Her laugh was a soft, wicked hum, and she slipped out of my grasp, already unbuttoning her jeans, letting them slide to the floor, her bare legs catching the last golden light spilling through the window.

Gods, she was perfect—wild dark hair, that fierce, defiant fire in her eyes, the soft curve of her hips, the delicate, teasing lace of her bra and panties. And she knew it, too. Knew the way my gaze followed her, the way my pulse hammered against my chest.

She turned, sauntering into the small, rustic bathroom, the sound of the shower starting, the soft, rising mist curling around her like a cloud.

I stood there for half a heartbeat, fighting the fierce, hungry ache twisting in my chest, the pulsing heat already pooling low in my body. But she knew exactly what she was doing. Knew the game we were playing. And I had no intention of losing.

By the time I stepped into the bathroom, the steam had already filled the small space, the soft, warm mist clinging to the wooden walls, swirling around her as she stood beneath the spray, her head tilted back, her dark hair slicked against her shoulders, the water tracing slow, glistening trails down the curve of her back, her waist, her thighs.

I didn’t bother to be subtle. I stripped off my clothes, letting them fall in a forgotten heap, and stepped in behind her, the warm water crashing over my shoulders, my arms slipping around her waist, pulling her back against my chest.

“All I can think about is how perfectly you fit in my arms.” I said.

Her breath caught, her body pressing back against me, the soft, slick warmth of her skin a perfect, torturous contrast to the heat of the water.

“Adrian,” she whispered, her voice a mix of warning and need, her hands slipping over mine, pressing them against her stomach.

But I couldn’t help myself. Couldn’t stop. Not when the soft, sweet curve of her body fit so perfectly against me, not when the heat of her back, her hips, her thighs pressed against the aching hardness of my cock.

I leaned in, my mouth tracing a slow, burning path along the side of her neck, the steam curling around us, the water tracing slow, lazy trails over her shoulders, her chest.

My hands slid down, tracing the soft curve of her waist, her hips, my fingers slipping between her thighs, feeling the sweet, slick heat of her, already so wet, so perfect.

She shuddered, her head falling back against my shoulder, her breath coming faster, her fingers clawing at my arms, her voice breaking in a soft, desperate moan.

Her fingers tangled in my hair, her breath coming in soft, desperate gasps, her hips pressing against me, and I felt the hard, aching pulse of my cock pressing against her thigh. Her lips brushed against my ear, her voice a soft, breathless whisper, each word a spark that sent a wild, electric rush through me.

“I want you to take me, Adrian,” she whispered, her voice a low, sinful murmur that wrapped around me like a spell. “I want you to pin me against this wall… make me scream your name. I want to feel you everywhere, your hands, your mouth… I want you to mark me, bite me again… make me yours.”

Gods. A fierce, desperate heat twisted in my chest, raw and wild, pulsing through me like fire. Her fingers traced slow, teasing trails down my chest, her mouth brushing against the side of my neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

“I want you to take me so hard I forget my own name,” she whispered, her voice a sweet, wicked plea. “I want to feel you lose control…”

A sharp, feral growl slipped from my throat, my fingers tightening on her hips, pressing her harder against the cool, slick tiles.

I caught her wrists, pinning them above her head against the slick, tiled wall, my mouth crashing against hers, fierce and hungry. My knee nudged her thighs apart, and I pressed against her, the hard, aching length of me sliding against her slick, heated core, and she gasped, her body arching against me.

“Be careful what you wish for,” I growled, my mouth tracing a slow, burning path along her jaw, down the side of her neck, my teeth grazing the delicate curve. “Because I don’t think I can stop.”

“I don’t want you to.”

Gods, this woman. I could feel her, that wild, desperate hunger crashing through the bond, her pulse racing, her body aching for me, the soft, sweet heat of her already slick, ready, begging.

Her words were a spark in a dry forest, a fierce, blinding ignition that shattered the last fragile thread of my control. I didn’t think. I didn’t hesitate. I acted.

My hands gripped her hips, and I pulled her out of the shower, water streaming from her body, her wet, slick skin a perfect, maddening temptation. She barely had time to gasp before I spun her around, my mouth crashing against hers, fierce and hungry, my hands slipping beneath her thighs, lifting her.

We stumbled into the bedroom, the cool air crashing against our damp bodies, her wet hair clinging to her shoulders, her wild, desperate laughter swallowed by my kiss. I tossed her onto the bed, her wet, glistening form sprawled across the crumpled sheets, her dark hair a wild halo, her eyes blazing with that fierce, wicked hunger.

But I didn’t give her a chance to catch her breath. I grabbed her hips, turned her onto her stomach, my hand pressing against the small of her back, pushing her down, the soft curve of her ass arching up, perfect, exposed, trembling.

“Adrian—”

“I’m going to give you exactly what you asked for,” I growled, leaning over her, my mouth tracing a slow, burning path along her shoulder, my cock pressing against her slick, soaked heat. “But you’re going to beg for it. You’re going to scream for it.”

Her breath caught, a soft, desperate moan spilling from her lips, her fingers clawing at the sheets, her body shuddering beneath me.

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