Page 51 of Knotted By my Pack
“Yes,” she snaps. “What the hell is wrong with you? You don’t own me. You don’t get to act like?—”
I step in and slide my hand around the back of her neck, fingers tightening just enough to make her breath catch.
She’s still talking, voice pitched high, but the moment my mouth crashes into hers, the rest of her words dissolve against my tongue.
The first taste is chaos. Soft lips, angry gasps, her body rigid against mine. I take my time, kissing her deep, letting her fight it for a second before I feel her give in.
Her hands ball in my shirt, pulling me closer. My tongue traces hers, slow and demanding, and she whimpers as her hips brush mine in a desperate, traitorous press.
When I finally pull back, we’re both breathing hard. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes wild. I grin. “Obedient. I like that.”
She scoffs. “You’re such an asshole.”
I kiss her again before she can throw more words at me. She melts faster this time, arms winding around my neck, her body aligning with mine like it’s meant to.
I drag my hands down her back, slow and possessive, until they settle over the curve of her ass. She gasps into my mouth,and I grip her tighter, pressing her against me, letting her feel everything she’s pretending she doesn’t want.
“You’re mine,” I breathe against her lips.
“I’m not.”
“You’re kissing me back.”
She’s quiet. Her fingers grip me harder, like she doesn’t know whether to push me away or pull me closer.
I exhale through my nose, amused and so far gone I’m already mapping out every way I’ll ruin her for anyone else.
“Lie all you want,” I say. “It won’t change anything.”
She swallows hard, her body still pressed against me, and that’s when I tug her hand and lead her into the narrow alley beside the bar.
The moment we’re out of sight, I spin her around and press her against the cool brick. My hand slides between her thighs and she shudders at the touch.
“You’re mine, Omega,” I growl, my fingers teasing the inside of her thigh, so close it has her squirming.
She moans, low and frustrated, and shoves at my chest.
“Elias is one thing,” I continue, voice rough in her ear. “But a Beta? That’s the line.”
“Don’t tell me who I can date.”
“I’ll tell you exactly who you can let touch you.”
She pushes me again, harder this time, and I stumble back just an inch. My mouth lifts again, but she doesn’t give me a chance to speak.
Her palm slaps across my face, sharp and stinging.
“Fucking Alphas,” she hisses. “I belong to none of you.”
And then she’s walking away. Heels clicking against the pavement, curls bouncing, spine rigid with fury. I move fast, calling her name, but she doesn’t stop.
She rounds the corner, and by the time I catch up, the taxi door is closing. She doesn’t look at me as it pulls away, doesn’t wave or scream or cry.
She just leaves.
I watch the taillights vanish into the distance, breathing hard, hands still curled into fists at my sides.
She’s mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.
