Page 7 of Down Knot Out (Pack Alphas of Misty Pines #3)

Chapter Five

Chloe

M y belly flips at the slow, knowing curve of Nathaniel’s lips as he stares at me.

Then he ducks down to kiss me again, soft at first, then deeper, his tongue teasing mine until I’m left gasping into his mouth. His hand follows the line of my waist, then tugs at the waistband of my leggings.

“Lift for me,” he murmurs against my lips.

I do, hips rising as he hooks his fingers into the band of both my pants and underwear, easing them down together. His touch is reverent, almost careful, but without hesitation. Just steady intention that drives me crazy.

The fabric drags down my legs, and I shiver at the cool ocean air on my skin.

Nathaniel’s hands stroke down the outside of my thighs as he pushes the pants past my knees, then further, until they come off.

He sets them aside before turning back to me, his gaze sweeping over my now bare legs with so much appreciation that my flush deepens.

His warm, firm hand slides back up, fingers tracing the curve of my calf, my knee, my thigh. When he settles his palm on my hip, thumb stroking beneath the hem of my shirt, I release a shaky exhale.

“You’re beautiful.” He leans down to kiss me again. “So beautiful, Chloe.”

“Nathan,” I whisper, his name a plea for more.

His fingers brush my damp curls, applying gentle pressure that has me arching into his touch. My hands find purchase on his shoulders before sliding to his back, feeling the subtle shift of muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt.

“I’ve thought about touching you like this,” he confesses, voice strained with desire. “Since the first time I saw you in the Homestead. The first time I smelled your pheromones.”

His admission sends another wave of heat through me. The idea of him lying awake, wanting me, fantasizing about this very moment is intoxicating. I pull him closer, seeking his mouth again, kissing him with newfound urgency .

Nathaniel’s fingers slip inside me, and I suck in a sharp breath, my eyelashes fluttering. Everything narrows to that single point of connection, his skilled fingers exploring, circling, testing pressure and speed until he finds the rhythm that has me moaning and clutching at him.

“That’s it,” he encourages, his focus intent on my face. “Let me see what you like.”

My body responds to his touch with embarrassing eagerness, already slick and ready.

I arch my back as his ministrations intensify, my fingers digging into his back as a tide of pleasure threatens to sweep me away.

Above us, seagulls wheel in a cloudless sky.

Beside us, waves crash on the shore. But all of it fades to background noise muffled by the thunder of my pulse in my ears.

Nathaniel shifts, adjusting our position without removing his hand, his larger frame shielding me from the sun. His fingers continue their maddening exploration, now joined by his thumb circling where I need it most.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, watching pleasure reshape my features. “Your eyes darken when you’re aroused. Did you know? Pink like sunset clouds.”

I can’t form words to respond, can only manage a soft moan that pleases him. My hips move of their own accord, seeking more pressure, more friction. Nathaniel obliges, sliding another finger inside me while his thumb continues to make maddening circles.

The dual sensation leaves me gasping, my back arching further, incoherent pleas falling from my lips.

“Look at you,” he purrs. “So responsive. So perfect.”

His fingers curl in a come-hither motion, and stars explode behind my eyelids. My thighs tremble, pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak.

“Nathaniel,” I manage, voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”

Tongue sweeping over his bottom lip, he withdraws his hand, leaving me aching and empty. But it’s only so he can shift position, settling between my parted thighs, his weight supported on one forearm planted beside my head. His other hand works at his belt, then the button and zipper of his khakis.

“Are you sure?” he asks, the restraint costing him, his jaw tight and a muscle jumping in his cheek.

In answer, I reach for him, my fingers finding the warm skin of his lower back beneath his shirt. I pull him toward me, lifting my hips in invitation. “Yes. Please, Alpha.”

He kisses me again, deep and thorough, as he positions himself, his cock hot and hard as he notches at my entrance. Then he pushes inside, a slow but steady thrust that has me clutching at his shoulders, nails digging into the fibers of his shirt.

The stretch and fullness have me gasping into his mouth, and he swallows the sound, bottoming out and holding still while I adjust to the sensation.

A fine tremor shakes the arms braced on either side of me. “Okay?”

I nod, unable to find words for how much more than okay I am. He begins to move then, setting a gentle rhythm that matches the waves lapping at the shore, each careful thrust sending ripples of pleasure through me. I wrap my legs around his hips, changing the angle, drawing him deeper.

Nathaniel groans, dropping his forehead to rest on mine. “You feel incredible. So tight. So wet for me.”

His words, combined with the slide of him inside me, send another rush of heat through my body.

I’m hypersensitive, every nerve ending alive and singing.

The slight roughness of the blanket beneath me, the weight of him pressing me down, the pleasure of Nathaniel moving inside me— It’s almost too much to take.

Gradually, his movements become less measured, more urgent, as his breathing grows ragged, matching my own as his control slips.

One hand slides beneath me, cupping my bottom, angling my hips to meet each thrust, and the change in position hits that bundle of nerves deep inside.

I cry out, the sound carried away by the ocean breeze.

“That’s it,” Nathaniel encourages, his voice a growl now. “Let me hear you.”

I’m beyond self-consciousness, beyond anything but the building pressure inside me. My hands clutch at his back, his shoulders, anywhere I can reach as his name falls from my lips, over and over.

His hand slides between us to where our bodies join, and his thumb finds that sensitive bundle of nerves again, circling in time with his powerful thrusts.

The dual stimulations push my pleasure toward the precipice, and my inner walls clench around him, drawing a harsh groan from deep in his chest.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he commands, an Alpha growl that has my Omega instincts submitting. “Come around me. ”

Pleasure crests and breaks through me. I arch beneath him, crying out his name as my inner walls pulse around him, leaving me trembling and clutching at his back.

Nathaniel’s rhythm falters and grows erratic. His thrusts become more forceful, driving deeper, and pressure builds as his knot swells inside me, locking us together in the most primal way. His knot stretches me to my limits, triggering another wave of pleasure, smaller but no less intense.

“Mine,” he growls as his cum floods into me.

Still joined, Nathaniel shifts his weight, turning us to lie on our sides, face to face, his body blocking the wind blowing off the ocean.

His hand strokes my hair back from my face, his touch tender. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I gasp, still catching my breath. “More than okay.” Another shudder of pleasure rolls through me. “That was…”

“Yeah.” His thumb traces my cheekbone.

And between us, the bond hums, promising everything I’ve ever wanted.

Quiet fills the Homestead when I return, my body still humming with the echo of Nathaniel’s touch. The Alpha had kissed me on the porch before heading back down to the job site.

When I slip into the kitchen with the empty picnic basket, I find it empty. Holden must be off with Quinn somewhere, or up in the office above the garage with Dominic. Maybe they’re all together, off on one of Quinn’s little adventures.

Humming to myself, I wash the food containers and put them in the drying rack. Warmth still flushes my cheeks, and I’m sure I have sand in my hair. I should shower, but I want a few more hours with Nathaniel’s scent on my skin.

As I climb the stairs to my room, each step reminds me of tender muscles and the phantom pressures where Nathaniel’s body connected with mine. Beach sex might need to be featured in the new trilogy. That was some good, steamy fodder for my imagination.

When I push open my bedroom door, the familiar space still takes my breath away. The guys put so much work into transforming this part of the Homestead into my personal refuge, filling the shelves with personal items and giving me my dream canopy bed.

I slip out of Nathaniel’s jacket and hang it in the closet before moving to my desk. Afternoon light filters through the sheer curtains, illuminating the single lily that rests on my closed laptop, sitting on top of a small stack of mail.

Warmth fills me. Did Nathaniel bribe Kyle to put it here for me to find after our picnic? My sneaky, soft-hearted Alpha put a lot of planning into today.

The lily’s creamy white petals hold a faint pink at their edges, like they’ve been swirled in blush. I lift it to my nose. Its scent mingles with my own lily-and-lilac pheromones, and I remember how Nathaniel murmured about expanding the garden.

Humming, I return to my closet and assess my growing collection of vases. I’ve gathered quite a few since arriving at the Homestead two months ago.

I select a cobalt blue glass with a slender neck and fill it in the bathroom before I place the lily inside. Settling into my office chair, I place the vase in the corner by the window and arrange the stem so the flower faces the sunlight.

I flip through the envelopes and flyers on my desk, forwarded from my apartment, and pause on a single cream-colored envelope that sticks out from the rest. It feels thick and expensive, my name written across the front in elegant calligraphy that I recognize, and my stomach swoops, all those warm tingles doused in an instant .

The Sinclair pack insignia—a rose with thorns wrapped around a crescent moon—is stamped on the back flap. My father’s pack. My pack, according to the email I received from the Omega Registration Office.

No one but the Omega is supposed to receive details unless the Omega signs off on it. Alphas only receive a No Conflict notice for courtship, and the only way my father would be alerted is if I petitioned for genetic matches.

Which I didn’t do. I’m still not sure I want confirmation that the man who rejected me was my father all along, and he never bothered to double-check before kicking me out like yesterday’s trash.

But it shouldn’t surprise me that he’d be made aware, regardless. Laws don’t matter for people like Augustus Sinclair.

I trace the seal with one finger. I could ignore it, the way he ignored all my phone calls and text messages. I could pretend it never arrived, burn it in the small fireplace in the common room, or return it unopened.

But curiosity has always been my kryptonite.

I slide my thumb under the flap, popping the envelope open. Inside, I find a single sheet of heavy paper, folded in thirds. Trepidation fills me as I unfold it and smooth it flat on the desk .

Ms. Chloe Richardson,

It has come to the attention of the Sinclair Pack Council that you have failed to respond to multiple summonses regarding your standing within the pack hierarchy…

I skim the rest, phrases jumping out at me.

Responsibilities to lineage.

Deadline for response.

And finally, the part that makes my blood run cold. Observation reports indicate involvement with multiple Alphas outside sanctioned pack arrangements.

They’ve been watching me. Of course, they have. And now that I’m a real Sinclair again, they think they have a say in my life?

I should have burned the damn letter.

My hand trembles as I set it down and grab my lucky troll doll, swishing its vibrant blue hair against my cheek. Luck has never been on my side, but I managed to find my way to this place, to these Alphas. The question now is whether I’ll be allowed to keep them.

The past and the present used to be an uncrossable chasm, but now it’s folding inward, the jagged edges trying to slot together in a puzzle never meant to join.

Did I fly too high with my author career? Did I get too close to the sun when I stumbled onto the pack Alphas of Misty Pines?

After everything I’ve been through, why can’t I be allowed happiness?