Page 22 of Down Knot Out (Pack Alphas of Misty Pines #3)

Chapter Fourteen

Chloe

S imon’s fingers curl around my wrist, a shackle I can’t escape. His breath skims my ear as he whispers unintelligible words. I try to wrench away, but my limbs are leaden, unresponsive.

Then suddenly I’m in the forest, and Louie is shouting through the darkness, my name poison in his mouth. I run, my feet catching on roots, lungs burning with each desperate breath, but the distance between us shrinks with every heartbeat.

“You belong to me,” Louie calls, closer now. “I own you!”

Simon steps out from behind a tree, seizing my arm with a grip that grinds into my bones. His limp hair falls across his face as he leans in. “You can’t escape who you are.”

The trees twist into grasping hands, branches cracking as they reach for me. I scream, but the sound gets swallowed by the night, consumed by the darkness from all sides. My lungs refuse to fill, each breath shallower than the last, drowning in the open air ? —

I jolt upright, a ragged gasp tearing from my throat. Tears soak my cheeks and pool at the corners of my lips. My heart hammers, and my hair sticks to my face, damp with sweat.

The nightmare clings to me, and I’m now grateful Dominic insisted we plug in the nightlight. It casts just enough glow to reach every corner of the unfamiliar room. I clutch at the sheets, fingers twisting in the fabric as I struggle to slow my racing pulse.

“Chloe?” The mattress shifts as Dominic sits up, his hand finding the small of my back. “You’re safe. I’m here.”

In the dim light, I make out the concern on his face. His black hair hangs loose from its usual braid, falling in waves around his face.

“Bad dream?” His thumb traces small circles on my spine, each movement sending ripples of comfort through my trembling body.

“Yes,” I gasp out, my lungs still constricted, each breath a struggle.

“Come here.” He opens his arms in an invitation I can’t resist .

I lean into him, inhaling his citrus-and-musk pheromones, the scent of safety and home. My fingers curl over his bare chest, seeking his solid warmth. His heartbeat pulses beneath my cheek, steady and sure, the opposite of my frantic, scattered rhythm.

“Simon had me,” I whisper, my mouth close to his skin. “And Louie was hunting me through the woods. They knew who I was when I didn’t.”

Dominic’s arms tighten around me. “No one’s going to hurt you.” His chin rests on top of my head. “I won’t let them.”

One of his hands slides up to cradle the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair. The other remains at my lower back, holding me close.

“You’re safe.” His breath warms the top of my head. “It was just a dream.”

My breathing slows to match his, deep and even. The nightmare recedes, washed away by his presence. I lift my head, seeking a connection in the half-light.

Our eyes meet, an electric spark passes between us, and my skin tingles where we touch. Without thinking, I reach up to brush a strand of hair from his face, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

He catches my hand, turns it, and kisses my palm. The touch sends a shiver through me, fear transforming into warmth and wanting.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

Instead of answering, he leans down, his lips finding mine in a kiss that starts gentle but quickly blooms with urgency. My hands slide up to his shoulders, kneading the solid muscle beneath my fingertips. He tastes of sleep and mint toothpaste and Dominic , making my head swim.

The pillow barrier I placed between us when we climbed into bed feels ridiculous now, an unnecessary boundary that keeps me from getting as close as I want to be. I pull back just long enough to push the pillows aside, then climb over to his side of the bed.

Before he can say anything, I recapture his mouth with mine. His hands grip my waist as I climb into his lap, grinding down on his hardening length through the thin barrier of underwear and boxers.

I rock on top of his cock, drawing a groan from his lips. His scent thickens, citrus notes sharpening with desire, the musk deepening until it surrounds me. My pheromones rise to meet his, lily and lilac twining with his to combine into something uniquely us.

His hands slide up my sides, bunching the fabric of my oversized sleep shirt. His thumbs brush the undersides of my breasts, and I arch into the touch, wanting more as the heat building between us chases away the last vestiges of my nightmare.

I reach between us, my fingers brushing the waistband of his boxers. I’m desperate to touch him, to hold the weight of him in my hand after all these years apart.

But Dominic’s hand captures my wrist, stopping my exploration. His chest rises and falls rapidly. “Wait, we shouldn’t.”

I freeze, reality crashing back, the doctor’s instructions echoing in my mind. No exertion, no excitement, nothing to aggravate his injury.

“I’m sorry.” Guilt floods me. “You’re not supposed to— I forgot?—”

He shakes his head, wincing at the movement. “It’s not that.”

“But you’re hurt,” I protest, starting to pull away. “We shouldn’t?—”

His hands tighten on my waist, keeping me where I am. “I’m not stopping you because of the head injury.”

Confusion replaces guilt, and I search his face, trying to understand. “Then why? Don’t you… Don’t you want me? ”

The laugh that escapes him borders on pain. “Want you? God, Chloe, I’ve never stopped wanting you. Not for a single day.”

“Then why?—”

He cuts me off with a brief, fierce kiss before pulling back.

“Because you just woke up from a nightmare. Because you’re scared and vulnerable right now.

” His fingers brush my cheek, wiping away tears I hadn’t realized were falling again.

“I don’t want you to do this because you’re scared. I don’t want to take advantage.”

The words ring through me, not because they hurt, but because they’re so Dominic. Even now, with desire evident in every line of his body, he’s putting my well-being first.

“Dominic.” I rest my forehead to his. “My Alpha.”

His breath catches, a shudder running through him beneath me.

“I need you.” Urgency rushes through me. “Not because I’m scared, but because I’m tired of pretending I don’t.”

He groans, his fingers on my bare waist flexing.

“You’re not taking advantage,” I reassure, my lips brushing his, the warmth of our breath mingling. “I want this. I want you .” I rise to kiss his forehead and his temple. “But I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

My chest constricts at the thought of causing him more pain, but the desire that blows his pupils begs me not to stop.

“Lie back.” I flatten my palm over his chest. “Let me take care of you.”

Dominic hesitates, searching my face. “Chloe?—”

“Shh.” I push him back until he rests on the pillows, his black hair fanning out around his face. In the dim light, he’s all sharp angles and shadows, the planes of his face both familiar and new. “Just relax. Doctor’s orders.”

His tongue skims his bottom lip. “I don’t think the doctor ordered this.”

I slide my hands down his chest, the steady beat of his heart thumping beneath my palm. “Then consider it my prescription.”

I trace a finger over the hard ridges of his abdomen above his boxers, watching goose bumps rise in its wake. The citrus notes in his scent sharpen with each touch, musk deepening until it surrounds us both.

I bend to kiss his stomach, and the muscles contract into hard ridges. His skin burns beneath my lips, almost feverish. My hands slide lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of his boxers. His breath hitches, the sound sending a thrill through me.

Slowly, I move down his body, trailing kisses over his ribs, across his stomach, and down to the sensitive skin below his navel. His scent grows stronger here, and my head swims. I nuzzle the trail of dark hair that disappears beneath his boxers, inhaling deeply.

My lips brush the outline of his erection through the thin fabric, and his hips buck upward, seeking more contact. His fingers tangle in my hair, not pulling, just holding. I look up the length of his body to find him watching me, his expression a mix of desire and vulnerability.

“Chloe,” he says, my name hoarse. “What are you doing?”

I kiss his cloth-covered length again. “You did this for me last time,” I remind him, thinking of his head between my thighs, and how he’d unraveled me so completely. “It’s only fair I return the favor.”

I hook my fingers into his waistband again. “Just lie back and enjoy it.”

His hand catches mine, stopping me. “I don’t want that. ”

The words freeze my desire, and I pull back, confusion and hurt coursing through me. “You don’t want…?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” He reaches for me. “I don’t want a relationship built on expected reciprocation. I don’t want you to do this because you think you owe me.”

Understanding dawns, warm and sweet in my chest. Even now, he’s worried about me, about whether I’m acting from obligation rather than desire.

“Dominic,” I say, ensuring he reads the truth in my expression. “I want this, and it has nothing to do with what I might ‘owe’ you or keeping score.” I cover his arousal with my palm, and his cock twitches beneath my touch. “It’s about how much I want to give you pleasure.”

His pupils dilate further, engulfing more of the gray, and his throat works as he swallows. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

He studies my face for a long moment, searching for any sign of hesitation. “Will you still want this in the morning? When we go back home and real life starts again, will you still want this with me? ”

His fingers brush my cheek. “Because if your answer is no, then I’d rather wait. I can’t handle going backward from here. I can’t have this and then lose you again.”

The raw honesty strips away any remaining barriers between us, all those years of love and hurt collapsing into this single moment of truth.