Page 36 of Knot Your Karma (Not Yours #1)

Adrian

I wake up to something wet and perfect wrapped around my cock. My eyes snap open to find Karma’s mouth stretched around me, auburn hair wild across my thighs as she works me with desperate, clumsy movements that have nothing to do with skill and everything to do with heat-driven need.

Her scent hits me like walking face-first into a wall—vanilla and sea salt so thick I can taste it, so desperate it makes everything else disappear.

Heat. Full heat. Omega in biological extremity.

“Christ,” I growl, my hand instinctively fisting in her hair. Something primal stirs in my chest, responding to her desperation. “Sweetheart, what are you?—”

She pulls off with a wet sound, saliva connecting her lips to my dick, pupils blown black with heat haze. When she tries to speak, the words come out fragmented, broken.

“Couldn’t—can’t sleep—heat won’t—” She pants, voice wrecked from hours of claiming. “Need alpha scent—need pack—need you—Adrian, please?—”

The broken speech does something to my control. This isn’t my chatty omega who overthinks everything—this is heat taking over completely, burning away everything except need.

Everything sharpens into focus. The flush on her chest. How she’s shaking. How ready she is again even after hours of this.

Something primal wakes up in response to her need.

“Heat’s got you all turned around, doesn’t it?” I rumble, voice dropping to registers I don’t normally use. My hand tightens in her hair until she whimpers—not with pain, but with omega satisfaction at alpha authority. “Human shame’s all gone. Just pure need.”

“Can’t help—biology stupid—” she gasps, trying to get her mouth back on my cock with single-minded determination. “Please alpha—let me—need to?—”

Her broken words snap something in me. The part of me that always thinks everything through twice? Yeah, that’s gone. Something older takes over. Something that sees omega in heat and responds with simple imperatives.

Claim. Protect. Satisfy. Mine.

“Easy,” I murmur, but my voice carries new authority as I haul her up my body with construction-strong arms. She’s naked, completely uninhibited by heat, slick dripping down her thighs where the pack’s claiming left her loose and ready. “Gonna take care of everything you need.”

She nods frantically, grinding against my thigh with movements that are pure instinct. The friction makes her whimper, and the sound triggers something primitive in my hindbrain.

Rut doesn’t care about gentle progression or careful preparation. Rut sees my desperate omega and demands immediate response.

“Adrian—need you—” she sobs, and the way she says my name—broken, desperate, completely trusting—makes my scent spike sharp enough to taste. “Heat makes everything—can’t think—just need?— ”

“I know what you need,” I rumble, sliding two fingers into her without warning. She’s still loose from earlier, hot and slick and desperate. My omega. Pack omega. Not just any heat—this is Karma, and rut or no rut, she deserves everything I can give her.

But gentle’s not what either of us needs right now. My fingers work her with more demand than usual care, stretching her while my thumb finds her swollen clit.

“Still ready from earlier,” I growl, voice rougher than usual. “Still desperate for more. Heat won’t let you rest until every alpha has satisfied you properly.”

“Always—during heat—” she pants, grinding down on my fingers with omega determination. The heat haze makes her bold, shameless in ways that human-Karma would never be. “Body knows—needs pack—needs to be?—”

She can’t finish the sentence, heat fragmenting her thoughts into desperate pieces.

“Needs to be what?” I add a third finger, stretching her while rut makes my own patience fray. “Tell your alpha what your body’s demanding.”

“Full—claimed—yours—” Each word comes out broken, gasping between thrusts of my fingers. “Pack omega—made for this—made for you?—”

The honesty strips away the last of my careful control. She’s not playing games or performing—this is designation biology at its purest, omega in heat recognizing pack and surrendering completely.

I flip us, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand while positioning myself at her entrance. The movement is more forceful than I’d normally be, but rut demands dominance from willing omega.

“Stay still,” I command. “Let me position you properly.”

She goes instantly pliant, heat-drunk brain responding to alpha authority like she’s hardwired for obedience. The surrender makes rut roar with satisfaction—omega submitting to pack alpha exactly as biology intended.

“Good girl,” I praise, gripping my cock to line up with her entrance. Even through rut-hazed focus, I take care. This is still Karma. Still our sweet omega who deserves reverence despite her current desperation.

“Please—” she whispers, pupils dilated with heat and trust. The single word carries everything she can’t articulate—need and want and complete faith that I’ll give her what biology is demanding.

I sink into her in one smooth thrust, and she screams—not from pain, but from satisfaction at being filled by her alpha. Her back arches as I stretch her, heat making her hypersensitive to every sensation.

“That’s it,” I groan, giving her a moment to adjust before setting a rhythm that’s more demanding than my usual gentle pace. Rut makes everything urgent, focused. “Feel how your body opens for me? How you recognize your alpha?”

“Recognize—yes—” she gasps between thrusts that rock her whole body. “Supposed to be—inside me—claiming—yours?—”

I lean down to bite the junction of her neck and shoulder—not hard enough to break skin, but firm enough to trigger submission responses. She comes instantly, cunt clamping down on my cock as her whole body goes rigid with pleasure.

“Alpha bite,” she sobs, tears streaming down her face from overwhelming sensation. “Marking—showing—pack?—”

“That’s right.” I lick the bite mark, tasting salt and satisfaction. Rut is turning everything simple—omega needs, alpha provides, pack bonds deepening with each claiming. “My omega. Pack omega.”

The possessive language makes her clench around me again, heat biology responding to territorial claiming with desperate enthusiasm .

“Yours,” she agrees, completely lost to designation instincts. “Pack omega—made for—designed to?—”

My rhythm becomes more demanding, construction-strong hips driving into her with mechanical precision. This position lets me go deep, hitting the spots that make her biology sing with satisfaction. Rut strips away finesse, leaving only the need to claim thoroughly and completely.

“Feel that?” I press down on her lower belly where my cock creates a visible bulge. The sight triggers something possessive and primitive. “Feel how deep alpha gets inside his omega? Gonna knot you here, stretch you properly.”

“Want that—” she pants, legs wrapping around my waist to pull me deeper. “Want alpha knot—want to be—locked together—biology?—”

My knot starts swelling, body responding to everything she needs. The sensation overwhelms us both—her body preparing to take everything I can give, mine responding to fertile omega with unstoppable drive.

“Knot’s swelling,” I warn, my rhythm becoming erratic as rut-driven biology takes over completely. “Gonna lock inside you, fill you properly.”

“Do it—” she demands, nails digging into my shoulders with heat-driven strength. “Knot me—fill me—give me what—what heat?—”

The knot swells fully, locking us together as my orgasm crashes through me. I pump endless streams of seed into her while she convulses around me, her cunt designed to milk every drop.

“So full—” she whimpers, hands pressed to her belly where my cum is filling her. “Alpha seed—body feels—complete?—”

“Just the beginning,” I promise, rolling us so she’s sprawled across my chest, knot still thick inside her. Even through rut-haze, I make sure she’s comfortable, that her weight is supported properly. Pack alpha takes care of pack omega. “Heat lasts days. We’ll keep you satisfied.”

She moans at the promise, cunt fluttering around my knot.

From across the nest, Declan’s cedar scent spikes with renewed arousal. “Fuck, Adrian. She’s responding to everything.”

“Heat strips away human inhibitions,” I explain, one hand stroking down her spine while the other palms her ass. My voice still carries rut-roughness, but the explanation comes easier as biology settles into satisfaction. “Leaves only designation responses.”

Reed stirs nearby, ocean breeze sharpening as he wakes to the scent of claiming and satisfaction. “Round two already?”

“Heat doesn’t follow human schedules,” I point out, though I’m already planning how to position her for the next round. Rut makes everything about maximum efficiency, perfect satisfaction. “Biology takes what it needs.”

Karma makes a sound of contentment, pressing her face against my chest. Even in heat-haze, she seeks pack scent, pack comfort.

“Better?” I murmur, fingers threading through her wild hair.

“Mm—better—but still—” She can’t finish the thought, heat making complex sentences impossible. But her meaning is clear—satisfied for now, but the cycle isn’t finished.

My knot deflates enough for me to slip out, and immediately seed gushes from her well-used cunt. The sight triggers every territorial alpha instinct—omega full of pack seed, thoroughly claimed and still wanting more.

“Look at that,” Declan rumbles, moving closer to spread her thighs and watch our combined fluids leak from her. “Thoroughly claimed and still desperate for more attention.”

“Always—during heat—” she whimpers, reaching for Reed with trembling hands. Her speech is still fragmented, but her body language is clear—need more, need pack, need to be completely satisfied.

“We’ve got you,” Reed assures her, his voice carrying the rough edge of beta responding to omega in heat. “Gonna make sure you get everything you need.”

Heat is nowhere near finished, and rut is just settling into its rhythm. By the time her cycle ends, she’ll understand exactly what pack claiming means when human restraints disappear and only designation biology remains.

Perfect omega. Perfect pack. Exactly as our biology intended.

The careful craftsman in me appreciates the symmetry—omega heat triggering alpha rut, pack bonds deepening through biological honesty, everything building exactly as it should.

Strong foundation. Perfect materials. Built to last.

Just like everything else I create, this pack is designed for permanence.