Page 118 of Knotted By my Pack
His hands drag down my back and cup my ass, thumbs pressing into the tender skin there.
“Too sore?” he asks.
“I can’t wear underwear.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m not exaggerating.”
He turns me toward the glass and kneels. His mouth is against my thigh before I can say anything, licking one bruise, then another. “Still taste like mine,” he murmurs.
“Keep doing that and we’re not leaving the shower.”
He grins and stands, pressing himself against my back, hard again. “You’re insatiable.”
“You started it.”
By the time we leave the shower, I’m wrecked all over again.
My knees barely hold me up, and Noah has to dress me because bending down makes everything ache in a way that reminds me just how thoroughly I got ruined.
I slip into a light sundress with no underwear, no bra, nothing pressing against the places that still hum from use. Noah watches me from the edge of the bed, pulling his shirt on like he’s debating stripping again.
“You keep looking at me like that,” I warn, “and I’m not going to make it to the bakery.”
“I’ll carry you.”
“Not helping.”
We finally make it out of the house. The drive is short. Familiar. And for the first time since the vandalism, I’m not filled with dread when we pull up in front of my bakery. The windows are clean. There are flowers planted out front.
I glance at him. “You did this?”
He shrugs like it’s nothing. “Of course, babe.I wanted the place to look pretty for when you came back.”
My voice is almost shaky as I say, “You always take care of me, huh?”
“Always.”
“I love you.”
He freezes, eyes snapping to mine.
Shit. I hadn’t meant to say it. It just slipped out. But I don’t take it back.
I say it again. “I love you.”
His jaw works like he’s trying not to say something back. “I love you too,” he says, at last, quieter.
I exhale, unlocking the front door. The bakery looks almost intact now. Maybe a little dusty. But mine. Ours.
I move behind the counter, glancing at the display case, the stools by the windows, the little chalkboard Elias doodled on last month.
“You’re sure you want to do this today?” Noah asks, leaning on the counter.
“No,” I admit. “But with you, I can.”
He walks around and kisses me, mouth soft and hot.
