“Sorry,” she gasps. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to...”
“Don’t apologize.” I kiss her softly. “Never apologize for feeling good.”
We lie there, locked together, our breathing slowly returning to normal. My knot is keeping me deep inside her, keeping all my come exactly where it belongs. The thought sends a possessive thrill through me that I try to ignore.
She’s not yours yet. Not like that.
“How do you feel?” I ask. “The pain—is it gone?”
“Gone.” She sounds amazed. “Completely gone. I feel...” She trails off, searching for words. “Full. Satisfied. Like I’ve been starving for years and finally got a meal.”
“That’s what a knot does during heat.” I brush hair from her face. “Takes the edge off like nothing else can. Your body was designed for this, Tessa. Designed to be knotted and filled.”
She shivers at my words. “How long until it... goes down?”
“Fifteen, twenty minutes.” I shift slightly, testing the lock. Still solid. “We’re stuck together for a while. Hope you’re okay with that.”
“I’m very okay with that.” She wraps her arms around my neck, pulls me closer. “Stay with me.”
“Couldn’t leave even if I wanted to.” I grin. “You’re quite literally stuck with me.”
She laughs again, and I feel it everywhere—in my chest, in my cock, in the bond we’re building one moment at a time.
And that’s when I feel it.
The urge to bite.
It hits me like a freight train. My instincts are screaming—claim, bond, mark, make her yours forever—and her neck is right there. Soft skin, thundering pulse, that perfect spot where her scent is strongest.
My teeth ache with the need to sink into her.
I clench my jaw so hard I’m surprised I don’t crack a molar.
No.
She asked me not to. She looked at me with those dark, trusting eyes and asked me to help her without bonding her. Without taking more than she was ready to give.
I will not betray that trust.
“Milo?” Her voice is drowsy. Barely there. “You okay?”
“Perfect.” I force the word out through gritted teeth. “Just—give me a second.”
She doesn’t push. Doesn’t ask why I’m tense, why my jaw is clenched so tight it aches. She just strokes her fingers through my hair and waits, trusting me to handle whatever I’m fighting.
That trust makes it easier. And harder. Both at once.
I focus on her breathing. On the way her body has gone soft and pliant beneath me. On the fact that she asked me not to bite, and I’m not going to, no matter how loud my instincts scream.
Slowly, the urge fades. Not gone—it won’t be gone until my knot deflates and I’m no longer buried inside her—but manageable. Controllable.
“There,” I breathe. “Okay. I’m okay.”
She’s already half-asleep. Her eyes are closed, her breathing evening out. The heat is satisfied for now, and her body is taking the rest it desperately needs.
I hold her and wait for my knot to release, my heart still racing from fighting off my instincts.
My knot takestwenty minutes to deflate.
