Page 28 of Knot So Fast (Speedverse #1)

VOLTAGE OF DESIRE

~ A UREN~

If lust is a drug, I’m overdosing.

Lachlan is motionless on the far side of the island, arms braced wide, biceps flexed enough to split the sleeves of his fitted black tee.

His eyes are like glacier melt—icy blue, cutting right through the diffused overheads and straight into my soul.

For one endless moment, neither of us moves.

We just stare at each other, daring the other to break, to flinch, to admit that this has already spun way out of anyone’s control.

And then it happens.

His nostrils flare.

A minute ago, I was the one in charge, the one playing him, the one watching his face for signs of mental collapse.

But now I see the exact second he catches the scent of my slick—warm, ripe, dizzying even from where I stand.

The Omega in me sings at the confirmation.

I know what pheromones do to a man like him; I’ve seen it in a hundred races, in a thousand press rooms, in the way even boardrooms can turn carnivorous with the smallest whiff of need.

I could bottle it and kill someone with a single drop.

“Fuck,” Lachlan breathes, but it sounds more like a confession than a curse. He claws his fingers into the stone counter, his knuckles blanching whiter than the marble. The raw restraint in his face is almost as satisfying as what I’m about to do.

“You okay there, Wolf?” I tilt my head and smile, tongue flicking out to wet my bottom lip. “You look like you’re about to faint. I can fetch you a paper bag if you need.”

He doesn’t answer. Not with words. Instead, his eyes drag up my legs, over my exposed skin, slow and hungry as a predator’s. I know he’s remembering every inch, every memory, every time he’s had me pinned under him, fucked me raw, made me forget my own name. The knowledge sets my insides on fire.

“You’re always going to be the end of me, Sugar,” he growls, the words so rough I feel them more than I hear them.

That’s the closest thing to surrender I’ve ever gotten from him.

I smile sweetly, flutter my lashes, and lean even further over the island, shifting my hips just enough to make the jersey ride up higher in the back. My thighs squeeze together automatically; I can feel slick threatening to drip down to my knees if I’m not careful.

“I mean, if you can’t handle it, I could always go upstairs and entertain myself,” I say, making the words as bratty as possible. “There’s a perfectly good battery-powered friend waiting in my purse. Does things to me a man could only dream of.”

He closes his eyes for a split second, jaw flexing so hard I’m almost surprised he doesn’t crack a molar. But when he opens them again, the look in his eyes makes every hair on my arms stand at attention.

“You want me to beg?” he says softly. “Or do you want to see what happens when I stop pretending?”

There it is. The moment before the crash, when every calculation turns to pure instinct. I can feel it coming, a rush so potent it almost makes my knees buckle.

“Let’s find out,” I dare him, and then, because I’m a mean girl at heart, I add, “Or maybe I’ll just take this wet little Omega body somewhere else and see if anyone else can handle?—”

I don’t even finish. He vaults the island on all fours, a blur of muscle and anger and wolfish intent, landing so close to me I let out an undignified yelp.

His arm snakes around my waist before I can even think of running, hauling me back against him with a force that makes my feet leave the floor.

I squeal—actually squeal—and look back to find him grinning like the monster I always wanted him to be.

“Going somewhere?” he murmurs into my ear, his voice low enough to vibrate straight through my core.

“Maybe,” I manage, but my voice is trembling, and not from fear. “Depends if you plan on catching me, Wolf.”

He pulls me even tighter, hands splayed wide over my stomach, fingers spreading down toward the place I want them most. The jersey is bunched high on my hips now, my ass exposed to the kitchen, my front pressed so hard against the marble I can feel my nipples pebble from the cold.

“You have no idea how bad I want to taste you,” he whispers, breath hot against my neck.

“You say that like it’s a threat,” I toss back, but the words are almost lost in the shudder that racks my body.

He bites the side of my throat—hard enough to sting, not enough to mark—and then he lifts me, effortlessly, like I weigh nothing, and lays me flat on the island. The cold stone is a shock, but his body blankets me instantly, pinning my wrists to the surface as he climbs on top.

Our faces are so close I can see the wildness in his eyes, the faint sheen of sweat starting to slick his brow, the way his hair falls in perfect disorder around his forehead.

He hovers there, breath mingling with mine, lips so close they brush as he warns, “If I start, I’m not stopping until I’m balls deep inside you, fucking you until you can’t speak proper English.”

I laugh, because it’s so perfectly him, and so perfectly what I want.

“Is my Wolf chickening out?” I taunt, and to prove the point, I arch my back just enough to grind my hips against his.

He groans, actual pain in the sound, and then he kisses me. Not a sweet, gentle kiss—no, this is messy, desperate, unhinged. Teeth clash, tongues tangle, his hands hold me down with a force that makes my pulse explode.

“You’re going to regret this,” he rasps against my lips, but I can tell he’s seconds from losing it. “I’m not going to be gentle. Not tonight.”

“Only if you can’t deliv—” I start, but he cuts me off, plunging two thick fingers into my pussy so suddenly and so deep I see actual stars behind my eyes.

I don’t just moan—I scream, body jackknifing off the marble as he fucks me with his fingers, rough and perfect and so exactly what I need I could die from the relief.

My hips buck up into his hand, my thighs squeeze his wrist, and he just leans in closer, burying his face in my neck as he pumps into me, relentless and hungry and so damn in control.

I come apart so quickly I almost miss it—one second I’m taunting him, the next I’m shattering in his hands, writhing on the island while he growls approval into my skin.

He never lets up, never slows, just keeps going until I’m a sobbing, pleading mess, begging him to please please just fuck me already.

But he doesn’t. Not yet. He’s not done punishing me for making him break first.

He pulls out his fingers with a squelch that makes my face go red, and he lifts his hand to his mouth, sucking the wetness off with obscene delight. His eyes never leave mine as he does it, and I realize I’m grinning so wide my cheeks hurt.

“Still want to run?” he asks, voice thick with the taste of me.

“Not if you keep doing that,” I say, because it’s the only truth that matters right now.

He grins—wolfish, unrepentant—and lowers his head to mine, teeth grazing my bottom lip. “Don’t worry, Sugar,” he says. “I plan on doing a lot more than that.”

And then he’s on me again, kissing me until I forget my own name, one hand tangled in my hair, the other already sliding down between my legs for round two.

If this is the end of me, at least it’s a hell of a way to go.

He’s everywhere.

My body is still echoing with the shockwaves of my first orgasm, thighs trembling, every nerve ending crackling.

But Lachlan doesn’t let me come down—n ot even for a second .

His mouth is on mine again, desperate and reckless, tongue diving deep as his fingers stay buried inside me, curling and stretching and moving with a precision that could only belong to a world champion.

Every flex of his wrist punches a new moan out of me, and it’s not the soft, polite kind you hear in romance movies.

It’s raw, guttural, animal. He swallows every sound, feeding it back to me in the kiss until I’m dizzy with the closed loop of need.

I think if he let go of my wrists I’d claw bloody lines down his back. I try to jerk free, but his grip just tightens, pinning me even harder to the stone.

The dominance is infuriating and addictive in equal measure, and I’m about to bite his lip to make him pay for it when he pulls back, breathless.

He stares down at me, his face so open with want it’s almost shocking.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” he says, voice ruined. “Always have to see how far you can push.”

I smirk, even as my chest heaves.

“That’s rich coming from you, Wolf.”

He licks his lips, tastes me on himself, and then shakes his head like he can’t believe I’m real. “You know what happens to brats who don’t respect the Alpha?”

I roll my eyes, but my entire core contracts with anticipation.

“Please, you love it.”

He grins, all teeth.

“You’re right.” His fingers start moving again, slower this time, teasing. “But you’re still going to be punished.”

And holy hell does he mean it.

He drags his fingers almost all the way out, leaving only the tips inside, then slams them back so hard and deep I nearly slide off the counter.

I jerk, gasp, hips bucking up for more, and he sets a rhythm so relentless it wipes all snark from my brain.

I can barely keep up, every thrust hitting exactly where I’m most sensitive, building and building without giving me space to breathe.

Just as I’m about to crest again, he pulls his fingers out entirely.

I actually scream.

It’s not even a word, just a sound of pure, furious, blue-balled betrayal.

Lachlan doesn’t flinch. He just stands there, slick fingers glistening in the light, a slow smile crawling across his face as he watches me thrash for purchase.

“You asshole,” I gasp, “what the fuck?—”

He lifts my legs by the knees, spreading me wide open on the island.

Then, in one fluid motion, he buries his face between my thighs.

I can’t even pretend to be mad after that.