Page 33 of Knot Enough (Fruity Omegas #1)

Sorren yelled out an apology and started to move the car again.

My face was bright red as we continued on the road.

Our conversation carried on with lighter topics.

Eventually, Sorren turned it into a game of 21 questions.

I was laughing from a childhood story he told me, by the time we had arrived at the place Sorren had in mind.

He opened my car door, and I hopped out to find we were in front of a pottery store.

I glanced at Sorren seeing that his cheeks turn red while he avoided my eyes.

“I hope you like pottery. Gabriel said you’ve never done it before, and I figured we could try it.” Sorren explained as he held out his hand for me to take.

“I suppose we’re about to find out,” I said, taking his hand.

The inside of the building had several sections of clay types and tools that people could buy.

Sorren led me into the back of the building, where there was a door with a ‘pottery class’ sign hanging from it.

Sorren guided me through the door, to a space that had several pottery-making stations.

I chose the spot furthest from the rest of the group and waited.

Sorren sat across from me. An instructor came through the door a few moments later.

She had several paint spots on her overalls and her body.

She went immediately into the inner workings of the tools in front of us and how to use them.

She left us to our own devices after a couple of examples and practice rounds.

A large pile of grey clay sat in front of me.

I wet the pile of clay and started using a flat disk in one hand.

My other hand maneuvered the clay to shape it into something I like.

I didn’t have a goal in mind. I mainly wanted to make something; it didn’t have to be good, just not bad.

I tried repeatedly to get the shape I wanted, but the clay broke or moved out of shape when I pressed too hard.

My brow furrowed more and more every time I had to restart.

I was just about to give up and ask for help from the instructor when I heard Sorren’s voice.

“Do you need help?” Sorren asked. I looked at Sorren’s pottery wheel and saw a perfectly shaped flower pot.

“I’m gathering you’ve done this before.” I raised an eyebrow at him. Sorren’s face flushed at my comment.

“I dabbled a bit when I was younger. I can help if you want.” Sorren said. His eyes didn’t meet mine as he talked. I bent down, forcing him to look at me.

“Why do you keep looking away?” I asked. I noticed that he can’t hold my gaze every time he’s nervous about something. It’s the same when Gabriel gets antsy and won’t stop moving around. Sorren’s eyes clouded over for a moment.

“I- sorry, I didn’t notice.” Sorren laughed anxiously. He turned his head to look at the vase he made.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. Lord knows I shared plenty in the car today.” I tried laughing the situation off. Sorren’s smile grew tense.

“No, you bled your heart out to me so, it’s only fair I do the same,” Sorren said.

He took a breath before he started talking again.

“My family was full of omegas and girls. My father was out frequently in the military, leaving my mom to raise my siblings and me. I grew up around makeup, sewing, and cooking, and learned to freely express myself.” He explained.

I nodded, listening to him fully. “The neighborhood I lived in didn’t see my lack of dominance or aggression as a good thing, especially when I presented as an alpha early.

I got bullied often for liking things like painting, pottery, and drawing since they weren’t very alpha-like.

” He finished. He still hadn’t looked at me as he told me about his past .

I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “That’s a load of fudge. You shouldn’t have had to go through that as a kid.” I told him. For the first time since admitting to having sculpted before, Sorren finally lifted his head and met my gaze. I could see unshed tears in his eyes.

“You're not disappointed that one of your alphas isn’t macho and growly?” He asked. He played his question off as a joke, but I could see my answer would mean a great deal to him. I squeezed his hand tighter.

“Absolutely not, I mean, who else will teach me the ways of pottery? I mean in a way I think it’s quite manly.

I had to do research for a historical romance I was writing and in some cultures it was actually common for warriors to make their own stuff.

” I explained. Sorren’s entire body relaxed at my words.

“Really? I had no idea.” He breathed out. My smile widened at knowing I had released a weight from him.

“Now then, get over here and show me how to make a vase like yours,” I demanded.

Sorren chuckled and got up from his seat.

There wasn’t enough room where I was sitting for both of us.

Instead, Sorren walked around the back of my chair and stood.

He leaned down and wrapped his hands around mine.

My body warmed at the contact. Watermelon and mint entered my nose, making me lightheaded from how good it was.

“You should guide the clay like this. Keep your pressure light, but firm enough to move the material.” Sorren explained.

His hands felt so smooth and soft. I wonder if the rest of his body is as soft as his hands.

He had touched me several times during Gabriel’s and my heat, but I could hardly remember what transpired then.

I kind of wanted to feel his hair. I’m sure it would be just as soft as his skin.

“Lydia, are you listening?” Sorren asked. My train of thought stopped. My face reddened even more at the fact that I was indeed not listening.

“Yeah, totally. I should press right here, right?” I tried to repeat what Sorren said to me. I pressed on the edge of the clay with more force than necessary, which caused the edge to slump over. I froze, not knowing what to do. From behind me, I heard Sorren burst out laughing.

It was dark by the time Sorren helped me finish my pot. It wasn’t as perfect as his, but I was proud of my slightly misshapen creation. We were heading back to the car when I decided to speak.

“I want you to mark me,” I blurted out. I could feel my face reddening from embarrassment. Sorren almost steered us off the road at my words. He quickly stopped on the side of the road and looked at me.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?” Sorren asked, his own face turning a shade redder. Our scents filled the car, making it hard to breathe and keep a clear head.

“I would like for you to bite me,” I repeated as I looked down at my hands .

“Like, right now?” Sorren asked. His voice was starting to sound tight with nerves. Getting a bit frustrated, I turned to face him again.

“Yes! Right now!” I tried to yell at him more, but Sorren pulled me into a deep kiss before I could.

Like a feral beast that was unleashed, Sorren consumed my mouth with a vigor I hadn’t seen before.

He nipped at my lips, causing a dull pain, and when he was done with my mouth, he continued onto my throat and neck.

I was so consumed in what he was doing that I didn’t even notice the slight pain of Sorren’s teeth biting into my neck and skin.

It was only when I could feel his deep happiness, love, and affection in the bond that I realized he bit me.

“Couldn’t wait, could you?” I said as Sorren leaned his head against mine. He chuckled at my words.

“I’ve been thinking about this every night since I met you.” He admitted with blushing cheeks. I smiled at his words with my own blushing cheeks.

“Give me your hand,” I told him. There was no hesitation in his movement as he handed me his left wrist. Without thinking, I moved his sleeve up and bit down on his wrist where it connected to his hand.

When I looked up again, I found Sorren looking at me with the deep love and affection I could feel echoing around the bond.