Page 77 of Knot So Social

“Alpha, alpha!” she cries.

If only I could be her alpha forever.

I lift under her back, draping the omega over my arm to stop her sliding away as the first ridge of my knot engages.

“Almost there,” I growl out. As the knot slips inside her and locks in place, the rush of emotion and sensation explodes, leaving me doubled over and roaring with pleasure.

We both gasp for breath, bodies heaving in unison. Willow slumps, chest rising and falling. I touch my hand to her forehead, and she’s cooler already. I lower myself half over her, careful not to drape all my weight on her slender frame with us locked tight until my knot deflates.

Gently I caress her skin, committing the smooth sensation to memory.

I must doze, because the next thing I know, the omega’s trying to slide out from underneath me.

“Feeling better?” I ask, dashing sleep from my eyes.

Willow freezes.

“Yes. Much better,” she answers, voice clearer than I’ve heard in days.

I glance over, meeting her perfectly crisp blue eyes. Not a single trace of fever. I push up on my arms, achingly aware of my nakedness and the cum coating my genitals.

It’s over.

She clears her throat and slides her legs out from under me, twitching her sequin blanket over the swirling scars on her thigh.

I rock upright until I’m on my knees, the least-threatening position I can think of. “What can I do for you?” I ask softly. “Would you like a meal, or help taking a shower?”

“Shower first,” she mutters, turning her head as if she can smell herself. “And we have food in the fridge, right?” Pausing, she looks at me, fingertips massaging her forehead. “How long?”

“It’s been four days.”

She blows out noisily through her lips. “Four. That’s a deal and a half.” Her gaze drifts down my body, and then she jerks away. “Thanks for making it so . . . easy.”

I nod, even though my chest feels like it’s collapsing.

Willow stands up and then wobbles. I jump to my feet and support her arm. “Take is slow. Your energy will be pretty low.”

She ticks the air. “Roger that. Weak and dizzy.”

“That’s probably some dehydration.” I throw her a smile. “You fought me on the electrolytes a few times.”

A hint of a smile tips her mouth. “That doesn’t sound like me at all.”

The way she says it tells me it sounds exactly like her.

I smile and step over the nest rim, offering both hands to guide her. She accepts my help but pulls her hands away as soon as she’s clear of the step. I trail after her to the bathroom, watching for signs of instability. Or lingering heat.

That’s vain hope talking. As she climbs into the shower cubicle, her Jasmine scent fades from desperation to quiet satisfaction, leaving me calm but aware of how tired I am. To prove the point, I nearly trip over my own feet as I head back into the nest to tidy up.

While she showers, I wipe the sticky bits off myself and dress. She takes a while, giving me enough time to make a set of caprese sandwiches and rinse the dishes in the sink.

Willow comes out in a bathrobe, a towel wrapped around her blonde hair and fluffy slippers cladding her feet. She goes to the thermostat controls and fiddles with the temperature before wandering into the kitchen with labored steps.

“Where’s Mr Shares?”

“I just put him outside. He’ll be excited to see you.”

She offers me a smile, but it’s wobbly.