Page 17 of Knot Gonna Give You Up

“Do you understand what you do to me, Simon? Do you feel how hard I am? I’m going to come down your throat, and you won’t be able to swallow all of it. It’ll run down your chin and get this new kitchen dirty like it should be. Fuck I’m gonna…”

He tapers off, and his hips stutter as he keeps his promise to come down my throat. It’s as much as he warned me it would be, overflowing in my mouth, running down my chin, but I still manage to swallow some. He pulls out watching in fascination as strings of spit and cum trail from his cock, breaking and leaving the floor a mess. Vic crashes to his knees with me and slams his mouth against mine.

“I love the flavor of me on your tongue,” he murmurs.

I almost come in my pants hearing that, and the way his hand moves to my dick tells me he understands. His hand moves gently, but firmly, increasing my pleasure and driving me wild. I press against his hand with my hips, hoping to get more from him. Vic chuckles darkly and moves his hands to my pants, unfastening them so he can reach in to touch me. A harsh breath leaves me at his touch, and my eyes are locked in where his hand disappears into my clothes.

I need his bare hands on me, it’s a drive I don’t understand, but I’m not about to question. I’ve never felt the zip of energy that comes with a Match, so I know that’s not it, but something draws me to him like he’s the one thing I need. So I start to shimmy out of my pants when he stops me. Vic kicks his pants off all the way before using his own hands to slowly pull mine off. His mouth licks and nips at my skin, taking a moment to swallow my cock down his throat before moving off and giving the tip a kiss.

Once my jeans are off, he leans back against the cabinets, legs splayed out, and beckons me over. I settle on his lap, my ass on the cool tile, but our balls, dicks, and thighs touching. Vic’s hand slowly drags up and down my dick, and we both watch as hebegins to harden again. His other hand moves to bring our cocks together and he moves up and down them at the same pace.

“Spit,” he commands.

So I spit on our tips and feel my dick twitch when he commands it again. After several more spits, I stop and grab onto the counter behind him. Using it for leverage, I move my hips, rubbing our shafts together as he strokes, doubling the sensation for both of us. Vic takes the liberty of adding his own spit to the mix, and my head tips back in a moan of pleasure. I can feel my knot inflating, adding extra sensation as it drags against Vic’s smooth skin.

“Shit, you feel so good Vic. I love when you let me rub my knot on you,” I confess.

Vic growls again, “I can’t get enough of you Simon, fuck! I’m so fucking close, harder, please!”

I lean my body into it now, pressing myself closer to increase the friction and pick up my pace. I’m right on the edge, my legs starting to shake, and a tingle building in the back of my spine.

“God, Vic, I’m gonna?—”

I can’t even get the words out before my balls draw up and I spray cum all over our bellies before Vic does the same. Once we’re spent, I place my forehead against his, resting against him while he places his sticky hands on my face, holding me close. I turn and lick a few of his fingers, causing him to twitch against me.

“We’re going to be here all night if you do that,” he admonishes without sounding angry at all.

I grin at him and raise an eyebrow. “Maybe that’s what I want.”

eight

HENRY

My nose has been tingling for days, dying to get another whiff of Josie. She was close enough to smell the last time she came for Ray’s appointment, and I almost buckled at the knees when it hit me. I’ve never liked any cinnamon-based desserts, but that’s all I want now. I’ve eaten several cinnamon rolls this week just to try and re-create her scent in my mind. None of them measure up.

That’s how I found myself standing at the kitchen island, hands braced on either side of the coffee cake that I’m glaring at. It’s not the coffee cake’s fault that it doesn’t smell quite the same, but I’m glaring anyway. My ears pick up on footsteps, and I debate trying to hide the dessert, but I don’t think I’ll get away with it. Ray walks into the room and bends over the cake, inhaling deeply.

“Not quite right, is it?” she says, taunting me.

I stand up straight, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

All that does is make Ray cackle.

“Sure, big bro, whatever you tell me.”

“As the big bro, you’re supposed to believe anything I say,” I inform her.

She looks at me, her face solemn and her eyes large. “I’m a poor, touch-starved Omega… are you saying I don’t know things?”

I raise an eyebrow at her, noting the slight twitch in her lips.

“Nice try, you should take acting classes,” I tell her.

She latches on to the idea, her concentration broken. “Oh! That could be fun! Maybe I’ll be a famous actress! Can you imagine? Ray: Hollywood Sweetheart.”

A smile takes over my face as she continues to fawn over the idea of being famous. She would absolutely hate it, and I’m pretty sure she knows that deep down. If she wanted to really go for it, though, I’d support her one hundred percent. When Jon told me about his friend being purposely touch-starved by her stepfather, I knew I had to intervene. Jon’s been my best friend for years, and we’d do anything for each other. Then we found out Ray and one of my younger cousins were friends as well, so that pretty much sealed the deal.

Since he didn’t have the space for her, I offered my house—even though it technically belongs to my parents. He got her out, and we both worked to get her settled with some financial help from my family. He takes on way more guilt than he should over it. He thinks he should have figured things out sooner, but I try to remind him hindsight is 20/20. Sometimes you just don’t know until you look back. Besides, my cousin hadn’t noticed either. It’s not an easy problem to see.

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