Page 77 of Knot the Last Chapter

“More,” I whisper, barely recognizing my own voice.

His brow furrows, concern flickering in his gaze. “Are you sure?”

“I want your knot,” I gasp. “I want to feel all of you.”

His breath catches. “Lila…”

I press my hand to his chest. “Please. I want you to hold me down. Tie me up. Take me—really take me.”

A low growl vibrates in his chest. I see the shift in him, the alpha rising. But he’s still gentle as he moves to undress, pulling off his shirt and pants. His body is beautiful—solid and strong, muscles defined and powerful. My breath hitches at the sight of him, his cock hard and thick, the base already beginning to swell.

He leans over me, cupping my face. “I’ll give you everything,” he says. “But we do this slow. You tell me if you need me to stop.”

I nod, dazed with heat and desire. “Yes. Please. Rhys.”

He takes his time prepping me, fingers sliding inside me with a slow, steady rhythm. I’m so wet it’s obscene, and his voice is thick with approval as he works me open.

“You’re perfect,” he growls. “So ready for me.”

I cry out when he finally presses against me, pushing in inch by inch. It’s more than I’ve ever taken. He’s thick, stretching me to the edge of pleasure and pain, but it’s exactly what I need.

He kisses my neck, my jaw, whispering praises. “You’re doing so good for me… taking me so well…”

When he bottoms out, knot just at the edge of my entrance, I gasp. We stay like that, breathing together. His forehead presses against mine.

“I’m not moving until you tell me to,” he says, voice shaking.

“Move,” I whisper. “Please.”

He starts slow, hips rocking into me with care. Each stroke sends sparks up my spine, builds the pressure inside me again. My nails drag down his back, and he groans.

“You want more?” he asks, breathless.

“Yes,” I whimper. “Harder. Please, Rhys.”

He gives me more. His pace builds, his cock slamming into mine with powerful, controlled thrusts. I moan, cry, cling to him as the fire inside me turns into a blaze.

“Hold me down,” I beg.

He captures my wrists in one hand, pinning them above my head. The other braces beside me as he drives into me, rougher now, the base of his knot bumping against my entrance.

“You want it?” he pants. “You want me to knot you?”

“Yes! Please, yes!”

He growls, thrusts harder, and I feel the pressure grow. The knot swells, pushing at me, demanding entrance. It hurts, and I cry out.

“Are you sure?” He’s shaking, forcing himself to stop as I writhe beneath him.

I moan a yes from my core and he pushes through, filing me in a way I’d never before been filled. I scream his name, body convulsing around him as we both cum, hard. He buries his face in my neck, growling low and wild.

“That’s it,” he pants. “You’ve got me now. All of me.”

We stay locked together, panting, trembling. My heat still simmers, but the worst of the ache is soothed. He kisses me softly, reverently, over and over.

“You’re mine,” he whispers. “We’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

And in his arms, filled and held and worshipped—I believe it.