Page 62 of Knot That Serious

She finally let her arms go, dropping to the mattress and pressing her cheek to it, groaning at the even deeper shift of Beckett inside her.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Beckett said, and wrapped his arms around her torso, pulling her up and into his chest. He sat back on his knees, so her only place to go was down, gravity settling Beckett’s knot even deeper inside her.

Her head was limp on his shoulder, breaths escaping in little huffs as she clenched around him, aftershocks still running amok.

“Come get a kiss, Jack,” Beckett told him, and Eli felt Jack’s warmth, his scent overwhelmingly perfect.

Then his lips were on hers and Eli gasped into the kiss, tongue flicking out to meet Jack’s in a filthy expression of relief.

“Feel better?” Jack asked against her mouth, their breaths mingling.

Eli nodded her head. Jack’s hands framed her face, his touch tender. But his eyes were still dark, and she shivered as his fingers dragged down the line of her throat, over her collar bones, and lower.

He palmed her breasts, and Eli let her head fall back onto Beckett’s shoulder again, panting with bone-deep desperation.

“God, Eli,” Beckett groaned low in her ear. His grip on her waist tightened, and he tugged her up just a little, jostling the knot inside her, pulling at her entrance. “Can feel you squeezing around me.”

Jack played with her, pinching lightly at her nipples before he lowered his head. Eli cried out as he took her between his lips, flicking his tongue over the stiff peak while he rolled the other between his fingers.

Each touch was like a little starburst of pleasure, connected directly to her cunt, and she—there was no other word for it—she gushed around Beckett. The precipice was nearing again, a rolling boil burning hotter with each touch, each time Beckett stirred his knot in her, lighting up all those places inside her.

“Please,” Eli whined, rolling her head to the side and bumping her forehead into Beckett’s jaw. She leaned up and licked a line across his jaw, but his fresh green scent wasn’t the same on her tongue as it was in her nose.

“What do you need, sweets?” Beckett asked, and she wanted to cry at the stupid borrowed pet name.

“I don’t—I don’t know,” she admitted, shaking between them, Jack’s fingers relentless.

She was so close, she just needed—needed—

“Jack,” she cried, and reached for him, curling her hand through his hair. She pulled him closer, parted her lips on his. It was less of a kiss and more desperate kitten licks into his mouth, whines peppering each breath as Beckett continued to grind her on his knot.

“Please,” she begged, and didn’t even know what she was begging for until one of Jack’s hands slid from teasing her nipples, caressing down her belly and landing between her thighs.

Her hips jumped forward at the touch. “Yes, yes, yes,” she panted into his mouth, Beckett groaning all over again as she tightened and squeezed around him.

At the first brush of his fingers against her clit, she shivered between them, torn between inching away from the too-intense sensation with nowhere to go, and stilling so she could let it wash over her.

She settled for some mix between the two, completely helpless to the pleasure. It swelled, bigger and bigger, until she began to fear just how fucking good it felt.

Pleas and whines spilled from her lips, and Jack tasted each one of them as he stroked over her clit in a slow, even rhythm.

Too fast and she wouldn’t have been able to appreciate the wave as it built, feeling so small in the face of it.

“It’s okay, breathe,” Jack told her.

Eli breathed raggedly, letting it grow, and grow, then pulled back to stare at Jack. Her nails were digging into his chest, leaving red lines, and some feral part of her was glad that this moment was leaving a mark on him like it was her.

They didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything. Jack just kept his pace steady, gaze locked on hers, watching for the moment.

“Let it happen,” Jack whispered. “Come on, special girl, come for me.”

His finger dragged up over her clit again, wet with her own slick, and pressed a little harder at the crest of his reach.

Eli’s mouth fell open as the wave peaked, as she froze beneath the pleasure.

“Fuck me,” Beckett ground out, but Eli didn’t really hear him.

It shook through her with devastating force, not even Jack’s intense gaze enough to keep her head upright. His left hand finally trailed from her breast to cup the back of her head, keeping her there so he could watch the orgasm work through her.

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