How is he still aroused? Don’t Alphas have a refractory period? Oh frack. Don’t think about knots. Don’t think about Alpha cock. Don’t—
“Uh,” I stammer, “you’d keep spare magazines on your belt?”
Knox hums in that tone I know means my answer is only half-right and I’ve left him wanting.
Which, in this moment, feels very hypocritical.
I am nothingbutwant.
Even so, my raging pheromones make me itchy under my skin at the idea of disappointing Knox. I never want him to leave him anything less than satiated by me. He has an appetite that needs feeding. I’ve seen it. He’s holding so much want and desire inside of him that if I push the right button, it’ll all come spilling out.
I want to be his good Omega. To make him proud of me.
“And grenades,” he adds, voice rougher now. “Smoke bombs. Knives. You’d hurt your foot before you’d hurt me.”
I nod, trying to listen. I am. But his grip is changing, loosening slightly on my leg, and if I just rock forward again just right—
He’s playing it cool, but I can feel the tension humming in him too. His chest rises faster now, breath not quite steady. He’s not untouched by this. He’s feeling it. And I could makeus bothfeel so much better.
“Hit me higher next time,” he murmurs, grabbing my hand and guiding it up to the soft spot just above his hipbone. His fingers press mine into the dip of muscle there. “Feel that?”
“Yeah,” I breathe, the word barely more than a whimper.
Oh boy.
Do I feel it.
He breathes heavily through his nose, his nostrils flaring, as he stares down at me. His jaw clenches and unclenches like he’s fighting against more than just our spar.
"Fuck it," he growls, and then his mouth crashes into mine, dragging me fully against him, his thigh slotting between my legs.
Knox doesn’t kiss like the others. He never has. It’s not soft. It’s like a dam breaking all at once.
There’s no finesse, just need.
It’s messy. Really,reallymessy.
Our teeth click, tongues clash, breath mixing in shallow, hungry gasps. Spit slicks my lips, smears my chin. I don’t care. I want more.
His hands slide under my other thigh and lifts me effortlessly, hauling me up against his body. I wrap around him without thinking, clinging as he holds me close like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he lets go.
My thighs stretch around his waist and I hook my ankles behind his lower back. My thighs are pinned open, andrut, I can feel the thick line of his cock pressing hard against my soaked seam.
He’s throbbing, cock jerking each time I suck on his tongue.
I roll my hips, desperate for friction, for anything to soothe the ache the Pack has spent this entire session carving into my core.
They worked me over methodically. Taking me apart, piece by piece, unraveling my body and testing my limits.
And here I am, spread open not just in body but in mind.
Finally, I fall.
I tip over the edge I’ve been teetering on.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Halley
