Page 68 of Knot the Last Chapter

Her name is a brand inside my head.

I picture her lips, parted with that lush little gasp she gave when Rhys kissed her. The sound etched itself in my mind likescripture. The way she straddled him, greedy and wild, scent blooming around her like she’d been waiting for that moment her entire life.

I shift in the water, my cock already half-hard beneath the surface.

I close my eyes.

I remember her in the kitchen, licking juice from her lips like she didn’t know we were all on the edge of losing control. Or maybe she did.

Gods, she’s kissed Rhys. I was pretty she’d kissed Corwyn, too, from his smug face.

But not me. Not yet.

I wrap a hand around my cock beneath the water. The heat of it meets the burn of my desire and I groan, low and rough. My other hand grips the stone edge of the tub as I start to stroke myself, slow at first, deliberate, as I imagine her in here with me.

Her hair in loose waves, brushing her shoulders. Her scent, cinnamon and amber and something Lila, thick enough to drown in. Her voice when she moans.

I stroke harder, the water sloshing gently around me. My hips lift subtly, rhythm building. I imagine her mouth on me, warm and wet. I imagine her hands pressing against my chest, nails dragging down, her thighs spread across my lap.

My body’s already tight with need when I hear the soft creak of the spa room door.

I freeze, heart hammering.

“Tyler?”

Lila’s voice. Soft. Curious.

I open my eyes, and she’s standing there—framed by steam and candlelight. Her damp hair clings to her collarbone, and she’s wrapped in a towel, clutching it close to her chest, eyes wide. Her scent spikes, rich and sharp and blooming with something that steals the breath from my lungs.

She saw. She knows.

I don’t move, just hold her gaze. “You can join me if you want.”

Her lips part, her breath hitching. Her eyes drop to the water, to me. I don’t hide what I’m doing. I don’t need to hide from her.

She doesn’t speak, but her gaze lingers, heat rising in her cheeks. She looks like she might say yes—like she might drop the towel and slide in, crawl across the water, and take me apart.

But then—

She smiles. Just slightly. Shakes her head once.

“I’ll let you finish,” she says, voice husky.

“It’s not the first time I’ve done this thinking of you, you know,” I tell her. She gives me another knowing smile, takes a deep, shuddering breath, and steps out of the room.

I groan, breathless now, and stroke faster. Harder. The memory of her watching—considering—burns through me like a fuse. I come with her name on my lips, my whole body shuddering, and it’s not just release. It’s devotion.

Even in restraint, she undoes me.

Even walking away, she owns me.

Chapter forty

Lila

Ishould’ve stayed in my room.

Misty’s curled up on my borrowed quilt, purring like she knows all my secrets and doesn’t plan to tell a soul. Her soft body is a warm little furnace against the crook of my knee, and she doesn’t even lift her head when I shift for the fifth time, restless. I’d tried to write—really, I did—but the words kept slipping sideways, crumbling into pieces of things I didn’t want to admit.

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