Page 64 of Knot Your Karma
“So good,” I sob, meeting his thrusts with urgent rolls of my hips, my nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to leave marks. “Perfect, so right, like I was made for this, made for you—oh God, harder—please, I want more, I want everything?—”
He complies immediately, fucking into me with increasing intensity that sends shockwaves through my entire system. Each thrust hits that perfect spot inside me, building pressure until the vintage wallpaper blurs at the edges of my vision. The bed frame groans under his force, and I don’t care who hears us, don’t care about anything except the way he’s claiming me with every powerful stroke.
“That’s my omega,” he snarls, one hand gripping my hip hard enough to bruise while the other finds my clit with devastating precision. “Taking everything so beautifully. Gonna knot you so good you’ll feel me for days.”
“Want that,” I wail, my back arching as pleasure builds to impossible levels. “Want to feel you for days, want everyone to know I’ve been claimed, want your knot stretching me so I can’t forget who I belong to?—”
“Hungry little omega,” he says with savage satisfaction, his thrusts becoming erratic as his own control frays. “Gonnagive you everything. Every inch, every drop, everything you’re begging for.”
The pressure builds and builds until I’m sobbing with hunger, every thrust pushing me closer to the edge of something that feels like it might shatter me completely. When his knot starts to swell, the stretch is almost too much, almost painful, absolutely right.
“Come for me,” he commands, thumb pressing hard against my clit. “Come on my cock while I knot you. Show me how good your alpha makes you feel.”
I shatter with a scream that echoes off the bedroom walls, pleasure so intense it steals my breath. The climax starts deep, where his knot presses against sensitive tissue, then spreads outward in ripples that make my toes curl and my back arch clear off the mattress.
“Mine,” he snarls against my throat, teeth scraping sensitive skin. “My omega. Say it.”
“Yours,” I gasp, tears streaming down my face from the overwhelming sensation of being completely filled, completely claimed. “Your omega, your mate, yours completely?—”
His knot locks us together, thick and heavy inside me, which should probably feel weird but instead makes me whimper with this bone-deep satisfaction that I’m definitely not explaining to anyone ever, especially not Destiny.
As my brain starts working again—which takes longer than I’d care to admit—I realize this claiming was about way more than just scratching my heat’s biological itch.
Declan gave me something I didn’t know I was missing—safety. The bone-deep certainty that someone will fight for me instead of just tolerating me until something better comes along.
But even as endorphins flood my system, even as his claiming settles something essential in my chest, I can feel the heat building again.
The ache isn’t gone—it’s just temporarily satisfied.
As Declan’s knot softens and he pulls out carefully, I feel the loss like a physical ache.
“More,” I whisper, turning my head to find Reed nearby, his cock hard and leaking as he watches us with barely controlled hunger. “Reed, I want—the ache is back already and I think I might actually be the most demanding omega in New England history?—”
“So here’s the situation,” Reed says, moving closer with diplomatic grace that somehow makes everything feel manageable even when I’m post-knotting and begging for more. “You’ve got one very satisfied alpha, but that brilliant biology of yours is already planning the next round. Lucky for you, I specialize in making everyone happy at the same time.”
There’s something different about the way Reed approaches me—playful where Declan was claiming, coaxing where Declan commanded. When he settles between my trembling thighs, his touch draws responses from my body like he’s revealing secrets I didn’t know I was keeping.
“Love how responsive you are,” Reed murmurs, ocean breeze mixing with lingering traces of Declan’s scent in ways that make my head spin. “Every touch, every kiss—you react like you were made for this kind of attention. Makes me want to see exactly how many different ways I can make you fall apart.”
“Was made for this,” I whimper, but my body is already proving the point, building toward another peak despite being thoroughly claimed moments ago. “Made for you, all of you—oh God, how are you doing that with your tongue? That’s not fair.”
“Years of training,” he says with that perfectly timed smugness that makes me want to laugh. “Amazing what youlearn about reading responses and finding exactly the right pressure points to get what you want.”
When he slides into me, I cry out at the different sensation—not as thick as Declan, but longer, hitting spots that make stars explode behind my closed eyelids. The slide is easy—I’m drenched with slick and Declan’s release, my body primed and ready for more claiming.
Reed’s claiming feels like acceptance—like he’s showing me how good I can feel in my own skin, how pleasure can be playful instead of frantic. His rhythm builds slowly, deliberately, each thrust designed to draw out my response rather than overwhelm it.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Reed says, setting a pace that builds pleasure layer by layer. “You’re going to come apart for me, and I’m going to be incredibly smug about it later. But right now, I just want to watch you realize how good this can be when someone actually pays attention to what you crave.”
“Already know,” I moan, wrapping my legs around his waist to pull him deeper. “So good, different but ideal, want all of you to mark me and fill me and make me completely yours in every possible way?—”
“Hungry omega,” he says with fond indulgence, angling his thrusts to hit that sweet spot inside me. “Want us all to claim you, make you ours in every way possible. Love how honest heat makes you.”
His rhythm is more controlled than Declan’s, building pleasure layer by layer until I’m writhing beneath him, my palms roaming his back and shoulders as sweat beads on my overheated skin. When he reaches between us to work my clit with gentle precision, I nearly scream from the intensity.
“That’s it, beautiful,” he coaxes, voice dropping to that diplomatic tone that somehow makes everything feel safe even as my body prepares to fly apart. “Show me how good it feels to be pack omega. Let me see you fall apart just for me.”
When I come this time, it’s with Reed’s name on my lips, pleasure crashing through me so hard I forget how to breathe. He follows immediately, spilling inside me with a groan that vibrates through his chest and makes my own satisfaction deeper, more complete.
