Page 63 of Knot Shattered
I shivered, nodding, breath caught in my throat.
“I need to hear you say it.”
“Yes,” I whispered. “I want you, Micha.”
His eyes darkened, that quiet control breaking apart like glass under a boot. He leaned in and kissed me.
I melted into him, my fingers curling in the soft cotton of his shirt. He slid it off without breaking contact, baring smooth muscle and scattered scars that begged to be touched. I did, tracing my hands up his chest, over his shoulders, until I was anchoring myself to him.
He guided me down onto my back with infinite care, kissing his way down my throat, my chest, my stomach, worshipping every inch.
“You’re perfect,” he murmured, lips brushing just beneath my ribs. “All of you. Every broken piece, every healed scar. Ours now. Forever.”
When he pushed my legs open, I didn’t hesitate.
There was no fear in me. Not with him.
Just need.
Want.
Mine.
Micha’s hands gripped my thighs with just enough force to make me feel it, to make me know he was there, tethering me to the moment. He moved with the same stillness he always had, the same coiled precision that made you forget there was a predator beneath the quiet.
But he wasn’t quiet now.
His breath was hot against my skin, and when his mouth closed over the soft flesh of my inner thigh, I gasped. He wasn’t rushing. Gods, he was taking his time, kissing, sucking, biting just enough to leave heat blooming beneath the surface. My skin tingled where his mouth had touched. Every nerve ending came alive under his hands.
I glanced past his shoulder, past the delicious weight of his body holding me down, and found Haze still sprawled in the chair like a statue carved from tension and agony. His eyes were glued to where Micha’s head had dipped, mouth hovering just above where I was already soaked and aching.
“Fuck,” Haze rasped, his knuckles white where they gripped the arms of the chair.
I smirked, teeth sinking into my bottom lip as I reached down to tangle my fingers in Micha’s hair.
“You’re doing so good,” I purred to Haze. “Such a patient boy.”
A low growl echoed from the chair, and I could feel the strain it took for Haze not to move. Not to beg.
Micha didn’t even glance his way. His eyes stayed locked on me as he slowly dragged his tongue between my folds, slow and deep. My back arched off the bed.
“Fuck…Micha…”
He groaned in approval, lapping at me like he was memorizing my taste. Then his lips wrapped around my clit, sucking with a rhythm that sent lightning shooting up my spine.
I writhed beneath him, one hand fisting in the sheets, the other still tangled in his hair as he pushed two thick fingers inside me—curling them in just the right way, like he’d known exactly how I needed it all along.
“Sweet fucking gods,” Haze breathed from the chair, hips twitching like he couldn’t help it.
Micha hummed against me, slow and smug.
I moaned louder.
“So good. So fucking good.” I whispered, eyes locked on Micha.
The praise lit something behind his eyes. He pushed deeper, faster, mouth relentless as my climax tore through me with no warning, my body clenching around his fingers. I cried out his name, thighs trembling on either side of his head as he didn’t let up, not until I was twitching and panting, wrung out and wrecked.
He pulled back slowly, lips and chin slick with me, his breathing heavy. He stared down at me like I was something divine.
