And then he’s on me. He buries his face between my thighs like a starving man, licking through my folds before sucking my clit hard.
“Fuck, Lark. You taste like perfection. I’ve been imagining this since that night in the car.”
I weave my fingers through his hair pulling him closer as I buck against his talented mouth. I’m right on the edge when he pulls back with a wicked grin, lips shiny with my slick. Then he plunges two fingers deep inside me, mouth back on my core, as I ride wave after wave of pleasure.
“Knot me,” I beg when he sits up wiping his mouth. There’s a smug look on his beautiful face.
“I’ve been dreaming of this since that night in the car.” He crawls between my legs, pulling one knee over his shoulder.
He pushes in inch by torturous inch. I feel every ridge, every vein, and especially that silver piercing dragging along my walls. By the time he bottoms out I’m panting and clawing at his shoulders. And then he starts to move in perfect rhythm. In and out until I’m screaming.
“Oh god, Saint. Please!”
“You want my knot, princess? Want me deep inside this tight little omega pussy until your clenching around my knot?”
I vigorously nod my head, unable to speak.
“Say, it.”
The words come out as a whine, I’m so close to the edge.
“Say it,” he says, again. “Tell your alpha how bad you need to be knotted.”
“Yes, alpha,” I pant. “Please knot me.”
He pounds into me then, losing control of his careful rhythm. His balls slap against my ass, and I swear I can feel that bead on his piercing hitting against something that is just so… fucking right.
Words rip out of him.
“Fuck, yeah—"
“Yes, like that—"
“Come for your alpha—"
“Princess, fuck—"
“Squeeze me—"
“Please, Saint, knot me. I need it,” I beg, voice cracking into a whine.
And then he slams into me all the way, locking us together. My orgasm is simultaneous. I contract and pulse around his swollen knot.
Saint’s orgasm follows mine. “Fuck,” he pants against my neck. “That was...”
I turn my head so I can kiss him. “That was perfect.” When our kiss ends, he rolls us so that I’m lying on top of him.
“Lark.” He places his palm on my exposed cheek. “Princess, I’m sorry. Whatever it takes, I’ll make this up to you.”
I prop up just enough to look him in the eyes. His thumb drags along my jaw.
“You don’t have to make anything up to me. We’ve worked it out. But I was serious aboutthe therapy.”
He nods, then pulls my head down and kisses me. It’s a slow dance of tongues and lips. There’s passion in it, but something else. Care. Tenderness.
I lay my head back on his chest when the kiss ends. We’re still locked together, his knot pulsing softly inside me while he strokes my back. Every tiny shift sends sparks through my oversensitive walls. The gentle pressure of his fingers working over my back pulls me toward sleep. I don't want to sleep yet. I want to know him.
I push myself all the way up so that I’m straddling his hips.
