Page 163 of Knot Baked Out For This
She leans down until her lips brush my ear. "Right now? You. Under me. Looking at me like I'm powerful instead of fragile."
Fuck.
"You are powerful," I tell her, meaning it. "You threw me. You reversed a hold on someone three times your size. You're fierce and strong and so fucking beautiful it hurts to look at you sometimes."
She pulls back to look at me, and there's something vulnerable in her eyes despite the position. "You mean that."
"Every word."
"Even the beautiful part? Even sweaty and gross after three hours of training?"
"Especially now." I reach up, tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're glowing. Confident. Looking like you could conquer the world."
"Maybe I'll start with you," she whispers.
The last thread of my control snaps.
I flip us in one smooth motion, pinning her beneath me but different this time—not a training hold but something else, something that has her gasping and arching up against me.
"Thought you wanted me to be the bottom," I growl against her neck, finding that spot that makes her shiver.
"Changed my mind," she pants. "Women's prerogative."
"Thank god," I mutter, then bite down gently on the opposite side from Luca's mark.
She moans, legs wrapping around my waist, and the heat of her—even through clothes—is going to end me.
"Rowan," she gasps. "We should?—"
"Should what?" I pull back to look at her, both of us breathing hard. "Stop? Leave? Pretend this isn't happening?"
"Lock the door," she finishes, and grins at my expression. "What? You think I'm going to let our first time be interrupted by Jenkins looking for his water bottle?"
First time. She said first time. Meaning there'll be more times. Meaning she wants?—
"Rowan?" She's looking at me with concern now. "If you don't want?—"
I kiss her again, deep and claiming, trying to pour fifteen years of wanting into it. When I pull back, we're both wrecked.
"I want," I assure her. "God, Hazel, I want everything. To fuck you…oh fuck it.”
I push my thoughts to the side, tired of delaying shit when I’ve been dying to fuck her long and hard. Before I can think, I’m pulling her down, kissing her passionately, lifting my hips just so I can feel her along my hard bulge that’s desperate to be release - my cock desperate to be deep inside her hot pulsing pussy.
She grinds down against me, intentional this time, her heat pressing right over my throbbing length, and I swear I see stars exploding behind my eyelids. The gym mat is firm under my back, but all I can focus on is Hazel—her eyes locked on mine, those soft curls framing her flushed face, the way her sports bra clings to her sweat-slicked curves like it's painted on. Her scent hits me harder now, that vanilla-cinnamon warmth spiking with something sweeter, spicier, like pumpkin pie fresh from the oven mixed with pure, unfiltered need. It's intoxicating, wrapping around me like the fairy lights strung up in her bakery, making everything feel cozy and dangerous all at once.
I groan, my hands tightening on her hips, thumbs digging into the soft give of her flesh through those tight leggings. "Hazel," I manage, voice rougher than gravel, "you're playing with fire here." The words come out more growl than warning, my Alpha instincts screaming to flip her over, pin her down, claim every inch of her right on this mat where anyone couldwalk in. But I hold back, barely, because this is her moment—her victory, her power. She's the one who just tossed me like I weigh nothing, even though we both know I let her, just to see that triumphant gleam in her eyes.
She laughs, low and breathy, leaning forward so her breasts brush my chest. "Maybe I like fire, Chief. You are a firefighter, after all." Her tease is playful, but there's heat in it, the kind that's been building between us for weeks, months—hell, years if I'm honest. I remember her as that fiery teenager at the harvest fair, curves already promising the woman she'd become, throwing pies at idiots who got too handsy. Back then, I kept my distance, too old, too responsible. Now? Now she's right here, straddling me, her body a perfect fit against mine, and every protective wall I've built is crumbling.
My cock twitches, straining against my pants, begging for friction, for her. I buck up again, instinctively, and she gasps, her nails biting into my shoulders. The sound goes straight to my groin, making me harder than I thought possible.
"You have no idea what you're doing to me," I mutter, sliding one hand up her back, feeling the damp heat of her skin under the tank top. Her scent blooms stronger—vanilla deepening to caramel, cinnamon sharpening like it's been dusted with chili—and I inhale deep, letting it flood my senses.
It's her, all her, mixed with the faint rubber tang of the mats and the lingering sweat from our session. The gym's empty now, the other Omegas and Alphas long gone, but the echo of their laughter and grunts still hangs in the air, making this feel even more illicit.
She shifts, deliberately rubbing against me, and I hiss through my teeth.
"Keep that up, and I won't be able to stop." My voice is strained, control slipping like water through my fingers. I've waited so long to have her like this, to feel her confidenceradiating off her in waves after everything Korrin's pack put her through. Seeing her now, bold and teasing, owning her strength—it's the sexiest damn thing I've ever witnessed. But fuck, it's testing every ounce of my restraint.
