Page 57 of Knot Going Down (OlympicVerse #3)

KNOX

T he hotel isn’t fancy, but it’s clean. Neutral walls. Muted carpet. A forgettable piece of abstract art over the bed. There’s only one bed. Which I clock immediately, because of course I do.

There’s no couch. No armchair one of us could sleep on. Just the bed, one bedside table, and a wheelie chair in front of a desk that probably has a Bible in the tiny drawer.

Declan doesn’t say anything about it. Doesn’t say much at all.

He moved through the check-in like a machine. ID, credit card, thank you, room key, shoulders tight, jaw working like he's chewing on something bitter. By the time we got to the room and shut the door behind us, the silence was so loud it made my ears ring.

I hang up my tux and throw my bag onto the chair in the corner. He sets his down more carefully. Precise. The way he does everything.

“You good?” I ask, pretending to fuss with the AC controls even though I don’t really care about the temperature.

Declan doesn’t answer right away. He stands there in the middle of the room, staring at the bed like its got a landmine on it.

I glance over, trying not to look like I’m watching him too closely. But I am. Of course I fucking am.

He’s quiet in a way that feels dangerous. Quiet like he’s thinking too hard, spiraling through options and outcomes and all the ways tomorrow could go wrong.

Or maybe he’s not. Maybe those are just my own thoughts.

“What’s up?” I ask, more direct this time.

He still doesn’t answer. Instead, he unzips his bag and takes out the handcuffs. Grey, heavy-duty, government-issue. The ones he cuffed me with back in Paris before he read me my rights.

Fuck. “I thought we were past this!”

He tosses them at me.

They hit my chest and fall to the floor with a muted little rattle.

“Cuff me to the bed.”

I blink. “Okay. This is either about to get very hot, or very weird.”

He still doesn’t smile. Just crosses his arms and says, “I need to know.”

“Know what?” I ask, bending to pick up the cuffs.

“If I’m cuffed—if I can’t follow, can’t stop you—will you run?”

The words land between us, weighty and sharp.

I sit down in the little desk chair. I have to. This feels too heavy for my knees to work anymore even though my brain is on overdrive. “You still don’t trust me.”

He lifts a shoulder. “I don’t know if I can.”

But he wants to. He wants to trust me. Wants to believe me. I can see it in the way his hands stay fisted at his sides, like he's fighting himself, watching every move I make like he’s waiting to be proven right. Or wrong.

Or is he testing me because he wants me to fail?

I know what it costs someone like him to offer even this much. After everything. After Kyle. After Emily and Ava and Lucas and the pack he’s trying to build. Going to build. With or without me.

He wants to trust me. That’s the part that gets under my skin and wedges there like a splinter. It would almost be easier if he didn’t . If this was just a job. Just a temporary alliance.

But it’s not anymore.

This man—this alpha who could crush me without trying—is handing me his cuffs and asking me to stay.

I push to my feet, twisting the cuffs in my hand. “Alright then,” I say quietly, walking toward him. “Let’s find out.”

I snap one cuff around his wrist, thread it through the slat in the headboard, and close the other around his opposite wrist. He doesn’t resist. Doesn’t even flinch. Just watches me the whole time like he’s daring me to flake out. To run.

But I’m not going to. I decided that back in Bermuda. He just doesn’t know it yet.

I step back, leaning against the desk, letting my eyes drag over him.

He looks obscene like this. Arms stretched above his head, biceps flexed enough to tease, chest rising and falling with each controlled breath.

The cuffs tug at his wrists when he shifts, metal glinting in the low light like a promise.

His thighs are spread enough to make me ache, muscle and tension wrapped around need.

There’s defiance in the set of his jaw, sure. His mouth is parted slightly, the tip of his tongue just visible, and those eyes—dark, steady, watching me like I’m the one tied down.

Declan McLaren, pinned and waiting and angry. I’ve never wanted anything more.

“What are you waiting for? Leave already. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Take off so you can keep living your life the way you have been. Maybe warn Glenn and get a promotion for it.”

I cross my arms over my chest. His eyes drop, clocking the way my forearms flex.

“You know, if you go through with this, and Glenn gets arrested, your sister won’t get suppressants anymore.”

I don’t move. “She’s of age. She can handle herself now. I even taught her some self-defense.”

“What about other omegas like her?”

That pulls me up short. I glance at the door, but stay rooted in place. Maybe it’s time I fight the system a different way. If I want Emily, Ava, and Lucas, I can’t put them in danger by continuing the shady work I’ve been doing.

And Glenn’s not the only source around. If omegas need options, they’ll find them. People are resourceful when they’re desperate.

“Nice try.” I push off the desk and stand at the edge of the bed, knees pressed into the mattress. “Do you want me to run, Declan, is that it?” I wrap a hand around his ankle. “Or do you want me to stay?”

I drag my hand a little higher, over his shin, until it’s resting right below his knee.

He’s still in the khaki shorts he was wearing on the cruise, and the tiniest shudder runs through him when my palm touches bare skin.

The coarse hair on his leg feels rough and masculine under my calloused touch.

“Do you know what I want, Declan?” With one knee on the bed, I lean forward.

He’s still quiet, not answering, not nodding or shaking his head.

I crawl all the way up and place my other hand on his other leg.

“I want to be part of this pack. Your pack. I want you to trust me, to want me the way…” I suck in a breath.

There’s no going back if I say this. “I want you.”

Moving forward, I push his legs a little wider and position myself between them. My hands slide up his thighs, fingers teasing the hem of his shorts. “Do you want me?”

His pupils are blown wide open, his breath fast and heavy. He pushes his legs up into my touch, causing my hands to dip higher. But he still won’t admit it. Stubborn asshole.

I draw back all the way until I’m standing at the foot of the bed.

He curses under his breath. “I knew you’d run.”

“I’m not running.” Reaching behind my back, I pull my shirt over my head, flexing a little extra just to torture him. I toss my shirt at him. With his hands cuffed, it takes a minute for him to get it off his face. By the time he does, I’m buck naked.

“Fuck.” His gaze travels over my body. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, not after Ava’s heat, but this time is different. This time it’s all for him. My cock is already half-hard, and under his gaze it swells more. I wrap a hand around it, and stroke myself slowly.

“This what you expected?” I murmur. “Officer?”

He tugs on the restraints, clearly frustrated. I spit in my hand and work it over my cock, using it for lube. “Fuck, that feels good.”

He glares at my groin and licks his lips.

“You want some?” I ask. A drop of pre-cum collects on my head, and I swipe my thumb over it. “All you have to do is ask nicely. Tell me you want me. That you won’t kick me out, and it’s yours. All of me is yours.”

A noise that’s pure animal comes from his chest.

“Say it,” I coax. “Say you want me.”

“You fucking asshole.” He shakes his head. “I want you. I want you as much as I want any of them. I want you so much I’ve dreamed about fucking you for the past three nights in a row. Is that what you want to hear?”

All the air leaves my lungs, and I freeze. “Is that true?”

“Every. Single. Word.” Our eyes lock. “Now, get the hell up here and uncuff me so I can show you.”

“I don’t think so. Those cuffs are staying on. You want to test me? I’m gonna test you, too.” My heart is running a marathon in my chest. This is it. Everything will be different after this. There’ll be no more running, no more questioning. He’ll be mine, and I’ll be his.

I crawl up the bed, dragging my hands up his legs, under his shorts, brushing along his length before my shaking fingers undo the zipper and slide the fabric all the way off, shorts and boxers together.

I push his shirt up until it’s covering his eyes, unable to come off with the cuffs in the way.

But I kind of like that he can’t see me for this.

I want to taste Declan, want to feel the weight of him in my mouth, want to sink my teeth into his proverbial forbidden fruit.

His cock is stunning. Thick and long and precisely manicured. A perfect representation of the man. Controlled. Presentable. It twitches against his stomach.

“What are you going to do to me?” he growls.

Fuck, I love how growly he is, always with that grumbling gravelly tone.

“I’m going to enjoy you.”

Starting slow, I lick the underside of his length from balls to tip, spending a little extra time teasing the space right below his rounded head. He tastes salty and musky, but there’s a hint of his forest scent, like… pine nuts. It’s a heady concoction I could easily get addicted to.

He bucks his hips. “If you’re going to blow me, do it already.”

“Oh, Officer. I’m not just gonna suck you off, I’m gonna break down every ounce of resistance you have to this. By the end, you’ll be in my custody as much as I’m in yours.”

I spit on his cock, watching as the warmth of my mouth drips down to his sack. He groans. I do it again.

“Please,” he grits out through his teeth.

“That’s it, beg for it.” Taking him all the way into my mouth, I hollow my cheeks and suck. My cock leaks over the comforter. I smile a little, thinking of how thoroughly we’re going to destroy this room and each other tonight.