Page 68 of Knotting on Heaven's Door

Her wolf flared in response to mine, something primal flickering in the space between us.

I released her hands only to wrap one arm tight around her waist and lift her off her feet. She gasped, legs instinctively curling around my hips as I carried her past the soft green-lit space of her living room and straight toward the bedroom.

If she wanted a fight for control, she’d get one.

But tonight?

Tonight she’d surrender.

And love every second of it.

I kicked the bedroom door open with more force than necessary, but I didn’t care. She was already in my arms, her mouth on mine, and her scent was everywhere—soft jasmine, sugar, and something heady beneath it that I hadn’t noticed before.

I dropped her onto the bed—not hard, but enough to make her bounce, enough to make her laugh and glare at me at the same time.

Her eyes tracked every movement, slow and hungry, and that smug mouth of hers parted just enough to let out the smallest breath. A sound that made my cock throb.

She pulled me in like she couldn’t help it, like sheneededto taste me again. Her fingers dug into my shoulders, her thighs spread wide around my hips, and I could feel the pulse of her arousal through the thin fabric of her jeans.

“You’re not in charge tonight,” I whispered against her lips.

Her jaw clenched. She wouldn’t give in easily. Of course she wouldn’t. That’s why I wanted her.

I leaned down, kissed the edge of her jaw, then her throat, then lower still—my hands peeling her shirt off, slow and reverent and aching with restraint.

“I’ll worship every inch of you tonight,” I murmured against her collarbone, “but you’re not running this show.”

She didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at me with those eyes—sharp, calculating, untrusting…and underneath all that,scared. Scared of what I’d already started to become to her.

But she still let me kiss her. Still let me undress her piece by piece, my hands moving slow enough to ask permission, my mouth pressing over every exposed inch like a silent vow. I didn’t need her to admit what was happening between us.

Not yet.

I could feel it in the way she arched into me, in the way her hands curled around my shoulders like she didn’t want to let go.

“You’re trembling,” I murmured, sliding her bra off and tossing it behind me. Her breasts were soft, perfect, and my mouth was on them before she could think to cover herself. “Still scared of me, boss?”

She exhaled a shaky laugh. “Terrified.”

“Good,” I said, dragging my tongue over her nipple until she gasped. “Means I’m doing something right.”

She moaned, her hips rising to meet mine, grinding slowly like she needed friction or she'd combust. I slid down her body, kissing a path from her sternum to her stomach, my hands hooked into her jeans, tugging them off with practiced ease. She didn’t fight me. Not when I dragged my nose along the waistband of her panties, not when I pressed my mouth there through the fabric and felt her thighs shake.

“I like you like this,” I whispered, nuzzling against her heat. “Spread out. Quiet. Needy.”

“Sebastian—”

I pulled her panties down, slow, and then I tasted her. Her thighs clamped around my head instinctively, her fingers gripped the sheets like she was trying to anchor herself to the earth.

She cursed under her breath, soft and ragged and so fuckingsweet. I licked and sucked and growled into her until she wasshaking apart under me, her back arching, her scent a haze in the air, laced with omega heat and surrender.

Her climax hit like a wave and I didn’t stop—drawing it out, feeding off the way she chanted my name, off the way her legs went limp after.

I pulled myself up, my mouth slick with her, and kissed her hard, letting her taste herself on my tongue. Her hands fumbled with my belt now, eager, and I let her undo me, her fingers trembling as she freed my cock from my jeans.

“I want you,” she whispered.

“Iknow.”

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