Page 30 of Knot Shattered
She was breathing just as hard, her lips kiss-bitten and parted, eyes dark with want. For a moment, we just stared at each other, hearts pounding in sync.
Then I reached for the hem of her blouse, moving slowly. I paused, asking without words.
She nodded, gaze steady, unafraid.
I pulled the soft green fabric from her frame, revealing smooth skin, gentle curves, and the elegant black lace of her bra. The sight of her stole my breath all over again.
She was everything. Beautiful. Strong. Mine.
And for once, I wasn’t afraid of what that meant.
My fingers traced the swell of her breasts, reverent and unhurried. Her skin was warm beneath my calloused hands, and she watched me with parted lips and flushed cheeks, wide-eyed but full of trust.
“I’ve dreamed of this,” I whispered, brushing my thumb beneath her bra strap. “Of you. Of us.”
A shiver rippled through her as she leaned in to kiss me again, slow and sure, savoring it. Her lips pressed into mine with quiet hunger, tasting like summer and promise. Like home.
I held her close, one hand around her waist, the other cradling her face. She melted into me, fingers threading behind my neck like she never wanted to let go.
“You’re shaking,” I murmured.
“Not scared,” she whispered. “Just… overwhelmed.”
“Overwhelmed?” I asked gently.
She smiled, soft and devastating. “With the thought that you’re mine.”
That was it. That was the moment. I rested my forehead to hers, breathing her in like she was oxygen. “Gods, Omega… you don’t know what you do to me.”
She laughed softly, and it turned into a sigh as my hands trailed down her back. The lace of her bra rubbed against my bare chest—a maddening contrast. I shifted beneath her,adjusting so she settled more firmly in my lap. She gasped at the pressure, heat blooming where our bodies pressed together.
Her hands glided down my chest again, slow and curious, tracing old scars with careful fingers. I flinched, instinctive and unthinking, but she didn’t pull away. Her gaze held mine—steady, sure.
And in that moment, I knew.
I could give her everything—every part of me.
Even the broken ones.
Ravik
September 15th
8:02 P.M
“I won't ask. This is your story to tell when or if you want to tell it.” She murmured
My throat tightened, and for a moment, I couldn’t speak. She didn’t fill the silence with empty words. She just looked at me, really looked at me, like she saw everything I was and still chose to stay.
My hands slid down to her hips, fingers curling into the fabric of her skirt. “Tell me if I go too far,” I murmured, my voice a low rumble.
“You won’t,” she replied without hesitation.
With slow, deliberate movements, I unhooked her bra, letting it fall away between us. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t shy away. I didn’t look at her like a man seeing something to take, I looked at her like she was art. Her body, heart,and mind… are part of the same masterpiece. And somehow, impossibly, she was letting me touch it.
I leaned in, pressing a kiss to her collarbone, then lower, mapping a trail of soft kisses down the curve of her chest. Her fingers sank into my hair, anchoring herself to the moment. She gasped softly when my mouth found her breast, teasing and gentle, her thighs tightening around my hips.
The air between us grew heavier, thick with the kind of heat that buzzed beneath the skin. She rolled her hips slowly, testing, and my hands tightened on her waist, holding her in place.
