I can feel how much effort it’s taking him to resist, so I wrap my legs around him and arch into him again, making it clear he doesn’t have to. He lets out a slew of creative curses and buries his face in my throat as he follows me over the edge. I come again just from the feeling of his knot, and his come pulsing into me, filling me more than I ever imagined possible.
We lie there in the aftermath, tangled together, both of us breathing hard.
Me adjusting to this new sensation of being perfectly knotted by my alpha, and definitelynothating it, unexpected as this development was for both of us.
Killian realizing he finally gave in to what we both want and it didn’t go disastrously, he didn’t lose control.
The slate tiles are digging into my back, but I don’t care.
The pain has completely faded, and now Killian’s knot is just pressing against the exact right spot as his pulse throbs inside me, triggering little aftershocks of pleasure.
“Fuck,” I breathe. “That was something.”
“Oh, yeah,” he murmurs against my throat, still holding me like he’s afraid the world will come apart if he lets go. “Definitely something.”
“Come home,” I say, stroking my fingers through his hair once more while we’re still locked together. “Please.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. Then he nods, his forehead pressing against mine.
“Okay. But uh, it’s going to take a while for us to untie.”
Heat rushes into my cheeks. “How long is a while?”
“Ten minutes, maybe fifteen.”
I blow a breath out slow, rustling the dark strands that have fallen into my face. “This is different from the knotting toy.”
He scoffs. “In more than one way, I’d hope.”
“Are you really bragging about your dick size right now?” I ask wryly, smiling up at him.
“I mean, I’m still an alpha. Even if I am becoming a monster.”
“You’re not a monster,” I mutter, nipping at his bottom lip. “And you’re not going to become one.”
It’s a promise.
I don’t know how I’m going to keep it yet, but I will.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
SEAN
“The dynamic duo, back in action!”
I pump my fist as Killian and I cross the quad toward Briar Hall. It’s cold as balls and I’m running on approximately three hours of sleep and half a protein bar, but hey, adrenaline is a hell of a substitute.
“So what’s the plan again, Kill? We beating Villeneuve up for imprinting on our mate?”
Killian doesn’t answer me. His jaw is set in that way it gets when he’s thinking about something he doesn’t want to say out loud. I call it resting Chad face.
“Kill?”
Still nothing.
I slow my pace, studying his profile. The dark veins on his neck are visible above his collar. They’ve spread since yesterday. Since the roof, where apparently he and Regina had some kind of breakthrough that involved him finally coming home smelling like our mate instead of sulking in the woods like a sad, murderous Bambi.
