He starts to move, his hips rocking into mine in a gentle, searching rhythm. It’s not the frantic, desperate coupling I expected. It’s something else. Something more. It’s tender and sweet, and so incredibly intimate it makes my heart ache.
I’ve been with Liam. I know his body, know the way he moves, the way he feels. But this is different. Liam is a fire, a wild, untamed force of nature. Maddox is the earth, solid and strong and grounding. They are both a part of me, and being with Maddox like this feels like coming home to a part of myself I didn’t know was missing.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks.
I hesitate, afraid to voice the truth, afraid to break the spell. But his eyes are so open, so honest, I can’t lie to him.
“I’ve had dreams,” I confess, my cheeks flushing with heat. “Dreams of you. Of both of you. With me.”
His breath hitches, his hips stilling. “Yeah?”
I nod, my eyes never leaving his. “Yeah.”
He curses, and then he’s moving again, his thrusts becoming harder, more demanding. I meet him stroke for stroke, my body arching to meet his, my nails digging into his back. The pleasure builds, a tight, coiling knot in my stomach, threatening to snap.
“Come for me, Millie,” he growls, his hand sliding between us, his fingers tapping on my clit.
And I do. I come with a cry, my body convulsing around him, a wave of pleasure so intense it whites out my vision. He follows me over the edge, his body shuddering, his face buried in my neck.
We lay there for a long time, tangled together, our breathing slowly returning to normal. He’s still inside me, a warm, heavy weight that I don’t want to let go of.
“I love you,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my hair.
“I love you too,” I say, and I realize it’s true. I have for a long time. I just didn’t know it.
I twist my hips, a final, clenching pulse around his cock as he pulls out. The feeling of emptiness is immediate, a hollow ache that has nothing to do with my body and everything to do with the space he just occupied.
I roll onto my side, a satisfied, languid smile touching my lips as I watch him dispose of the condom. He’s beautiful. All lean muscle and golden skin, a smattering of freckles across his shoulders that I want to trace with my tongue. His bruises have begun to fade.
He turns back to me, his expression soft and open. The vulnerability there makes my chest ache.
“Why didn’t you knot?” I ask, the question slipping out before I can stop it. It’s not an accusation, just genuine curiosity.
A small smile plays on his lips. “Did you want me to?”
I nod, my cheeks flushing. “A little.”
He sits on the edge of the bed, his back to me. “I rarely do,” he admits, his voice quiet. “I think... I think I was in too emotional of a state. An Alpha forms a knot when he’s primal, possessive. When he’s claiming. What we just did... that wasn’t claiming. It was...” He trails off, searching for the word.
“Making love,” I supply, my heart swelling.
He turns to look at me, his eyes warm. “Yeah. That.”
A smirk tugs at my lips. “So have you knotted someone before?”
“Millie,” he warns, but there’s no heat in it.
“Have you knotted Angela?” The question is out before I can bite it back, a flicker of something sharp and green that I immediately regret.
His expression shutters, just for a second, before he schools his features into a mask of neutrality. “Yes.”
The word is a punch to the gut, even though I have no right to feel it. “Are you two... dating?”
He shakes his head. “No. We were figuring things out, but... Angela knew. She knew I was in love with someone else.”
My breath catches. “She knew?”
“Yeah,” he says, a sad smile on his face. “She always knew.”
