Page 109 of Knot in Bloom
He hums against me, the vibration sending shockwaves through my system. When he slides two fingers inside me while his mouth focuses on my most sensitive spot, I nearly come apart immediately.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, working me with skilled precision. “Let me hear how good this feels.”
I can’t form coherent words anymore, only broken sounds of pleasure as he brings me closer and closer to the edge. When my orgasm finally crashes over me, I come with his name on my lips, my whole body shaking with the intensity of it.
For a moment we just hold each other, both breathing hard. His heart pounds against my chest, and I can smell the satisfied contentment in his scent mixing with the lingering arousal.
“That was...” He trails off, pressing his forehead against mine.
“Good?”
“Perfect.” He kisses me again, softer this time. “You’re perfect.”
We clean up quietly, straightening books and clothes with gentle touches and soft smiles. I notice he’s careful to put the fallen poetry volumes back in alphabetical order, which is so perfectly Levi that it makes my chest tight with affection. The bookstore feels even more like ours now—another space marked by our connection.
As we work, I feel nothing but contentment settling in my bones. Usually I might second-guess myself, but watching Levicarefully shelve Byron next to Blake, seeing the satisfied curve of his mouth, all I feel is settled. Right. Happy.
“Thank you.” His arm settles around my waist as we lock up, like it belongs there.
“For helping with inventory?”
He laughs, low and warm. “Among other things.” His expression grows more serious.
“I’m learning that love isn’t just about what you receive.” I lean into his warmth as we walk to his car. “It’s about what you choose to give back.”
As we drive home to our cottage and our nest, I understand completely that being part of this pack doesn’t make me dependent. It makes me free to love as generously as I’ve been loved.
And I finally, truly believe I deserve every bit of it.
Chapter 33
Reid
The new Mercedes handles mountain roads like it was designed for them, but I can smell something different about Sadie from the moment she settles into the passenger seat. Her usual honeysuckle and vanilla carries a deeper note underneath—something richer, warmer, that makes my alpha instincts sit up and take notice.
Mental exhaustion, yes, but there’s something else. Something that makes me want to wrap her in blankets and never let her out of my sight.
“This is completely unnecessary,” she says, running her hands over leather seats with obvious appreciation. “A fancy car just to drive around Honeyridge Falls.”
“It’s not just for driving around town,” I tell her, taking the winding road toward the scenic overlook. “It’s for taking my omega somewhere she can actually think about something other than flower arrangements.”
The possessive way I say ‘my omega’ makes her scent spike with arousal, but underneath lingers the bone-deep tiredness that comes from perfectionism, not financial stress.
“Your omega should be working on the Morrison anniversary arrangements,” she says, settling back into the passenger seat. “They’re gorgeous, but I keep thinking of small improvements?—”
“The Morrison arrangements are perfect,” I interrupt firmly. “I saw them this morning. You’ve been tweaking details that were already flawless.”
“But if the ribbon placement is slightly off, or the color balance?—”
“Sadie.” My voice carries alpha authority that makes her go still. “When did you last do something just because you enjoyed it, not because you were trying to achieve perfection?”
Her silence confirms what I suspected. With all financial pressure removed, she’s transferred that energy into an impossible standard of artistic excellence. Working longer hours than when she was broke, driven by her own perfectionist nature instead of necessity.
The scenic overlook is exactly what I hoped—empty this late in the afternoon, with a breathtaking view of the valley spread out below us. Mountains in the distance, autumn colors painting the landscape, and complete privacy.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathes, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.
“Not as beautiful as you,” I say, which should sound like a line but comes out completely sincere.
