Page 31 of Knotted By my Pack (North Coast Omegaverse #3)

ELIAS

The eggs are done when I reach for the oven mitt and pull out the tray of hash browns. Crispy. Golden. Perfect. I toss one to Rusty, who catches it mid-air like the spoiled bastard he is.

“Stop judging me,” I tell him as I turn back to the skillet, flipping a sausage link and grinning like an idiot.

She said she was coming and now I’m standing here practically giddy, my body keyed up like a goddamn teenager.

Rusty lets out a low bark and pads toward the door.

Then I hear it. Tires against gravel. A car door shutting. I wipe my hands on the dishtowel and walk to the front door. When I pull it open, the air shifts.

She’s standing there in a loose sweater, jeans hugging her hips in a way that makes my pulse stumble. Her hair’s tucked under a baseball cap and her smile is casual, but there’s something behind it. Something electric.

“Hey,” I say, voice low.

Even from here, I catch Noah’s scent. And Julian’s. Her body is still wearing them. And yet, instead of jealousy, something darker curls low in my gut. Desire. Maybe it should piss me off, but it doesn’t. She looks like a goddamn dream, and I want to peel that outfit off with my teeth.

“Hey,” she says back, already walking up. She presses her mouth to mine like we haven’t been apart at all. It’s soft at first, just enough to tease, and then Rusty wiggles between us, tail thumping.

She laughs, pulling away to crouch and pet him. “Hi, handsome boy.”

I fold my arms, watching her hands in his fur. “Why are you dressed like that?”

She glances up. “You said we could go hiking.”

“Yeah. I did. You’re serious? You want to go hiking right now?”

She stands and lifts her chin. “Unless that offer’s expired?”

“Not even close.” I take a step forward. “But I have one condition.”

“Let me guess. You carry me?”

“Over my shoulder,” I confirm. “Right now.”

She laughs again, glancing past me into the cabin. “Place smells amazing.”

“It does,” I say. But I’m not talking about the food. I’m talking about her. All warm skin and sweat and sex. She smells like everything I’ve been starving for.

I back her toward the wall just inside the door. Her lips part slightly, like she knows exactly what’s coming.

“What are you doing?” she asks, breath hitching.

I dip my head and catch the top edge of her sweater between my teeth, tugging it down just enough to expose the soft swell of her cleavage. I lick across the curve, slow and greedy.

“What is it with you and my boobs?” she murmurs, smiling.

“Obsessed,” I mutter against her skin.

I sink to my knees before she can say another word. The jeans are snug, molded to her body, and the second I peel them down, the flash of hot pink lace underneath punches the air from my lungs.

They slide down her thighs and pool around her knees. I grip her hips, tugging her toward me until she’s forced onto her toes, thighs braced on either side of my head.

She’s already wet. I can see it. Smell it. And the sight of her swollen and glistening, right here in my cabin with the scent of two other men still lingering on her skin, makes something primal in me snap.

My tongue drags along the seam of her, slow and deep. She makes a noise that’s almost a sob, hand slapping against the wall to steady herself.

I wrap my arms around her thighs, holding her still as I focus on the tight bundle of nerves that has her keening. Her hips jerk, and I do it again, circling, teasing, until she gasps my name like it hurts.

“Take them out,” I growl between licks. “Let me see.”

She pulls at her bra, baring her breasts for me as she arches slightly. My eyes stay locked on them as I dive back in.

Her nipples tighten in the cool air, and when her head drops back with a low cry, I double down.

She’s moaning, thighs trembling around my shoulders as I devour her. I eat like I’m starving, chasing every twitch, every gasp, tasting every part of her.

Her pussy is perfect. Swollen, slick, pink, and flushed. I can feel her building, muscles clenching with every pass of my tongue.

She grabs a handful of my hair and bucks against me, and I let her. Let her ride it, grinding into my mouth, until she shatters. Her cries echo through the space, sharp and wild.

I don’t stop until she goes limp, until her hand slips from my hair and her legs start to slide down my shoulders.

I ease her to the floor, kissing the inside of her thigh as she pants for air. Her fingers drift to my cheek, her body flushed and shining. Her scent is everywhere now. On my skin. In my mouth, coating my tongue.

And fuck, I’m not even close to done.

Her fingers slide under my clothes and wrap tighter around me, tugging with purpose, the glide of her palm slick from what she’s already drawn out of me.

I’m buried in her, two fingers deep and curling slowly, savoring every twitch of her body as her thighs tense around my wrist.

The floor is hard beneath my knees, but I barely register it. There’s nothing but her. Her scent. Her skin. The way she gasps when I find just the right rhythm, matching each pump of her hand with a thrust of my fingers.

Her breath stutters, and she whispers something that makes my cock jump in her grip. “Let me see,” she says, dragging my boxers down the rest of the way.

Her eyes lock on mine for a second—hungry, playful—then drop to my cock, thick and flushed and already leaking for her. She strokes me slowly at first, watching how my chest rises with each pass of her hand.

Then she picks up the pace, twisting her wrist the way she knows drives me wild.

I thrust into her grip and slide my fingers deeper, then crook them until she gasps, biting her lip to keep from crying out.

We’re tangled on the hardwood just inside the door, half-dressed and flushed, her sweater askew, her jeans and panties bunched around one ankle, my clothes somewhere behind me.

It’s ridiculous.

It’s perfect.

She whimpers, clenching around my fingers as I thumb her clit, and I groan, thick ropes spilling into her hand as she keeps pumping me through it.

Her body jerks, shuddering around me, and she clutches my shoulder like she’s anchoring herself. Her release hits hard, sudden, like it’s been waiting just beneath the surface.

We slump against each other, panting and grinning like idiots. Her forehead drops to my shoulder as she laughs, light and breathless.

I can’t stop smiling either, brushing her hair from her face before kissing the tip of her nose.

“This is probably not what I meant when I said we’d go hiking,” I mutter, and she snorts, swatting my chest.

“We haven’t even made it past the foyer,” she says, still giggling.

I kiss her again, softly this time, full of everything I’m too stupid to say. Her hand finds mine, and we just sit there, sweaty and sated, her bare thigh warm against my hip.

“We need to get off the floor,” I tell her eventually, though I make no move to do so. “Eat something. Then, maybe, if we still have energy, we can hit the trail.”

She stretches lazily. “Okay,” she says, eyes gleaming.

I stand, then reach for her. “You get off the floor, I’ll get you magic.”

More kissing. Slow now, less frantic. Her lips taste so fucking good.

I lift her in my arms and carry her straight to the kitchen, ready to keep spoiling her before the woods steal her attention.

The trail is soft beneath our boots, pine needles and old leaves cushioning every step. Sunlight filters through the trees above, dappling the path in gold and green.

Rusty runs ahead, his tail a happy flag as he darts between trees and splashes through shallow puddles. Cora walks beside me, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans, cap pulled low over her face.

She’s been quiet since we started, her breath even but her silence weighted.

“I just needed this,” she says eventually. “Some space. Just to clear my mind with everything going on.”

I nod, watching her from the corner of my eye. Her legs are dusted with trail grit, her skin sun-kissed and still glowing from earlier. “This about Julian?” I ask, keeping it casual, though I know the answer.

She stops. Turns toward me. “You know?”

I meet her gaze. “I’m an Alpha. I could smell it the second you kissed me.”

There’s no accusation in my voice. I mean it. It’s information. She studies my face like she’s waiting for judgment, for some crack in the foundation we’re building.

Then she shakes her head. “That’s not it,” she says softly. “It’s just… with all of us together, it feels different. Like something I never expected but somehow… right. That scares me more than I thought it would.”

I don’t push. I let her talk, her hands still tucked tight in her pockets. The trail winds deeper into the woods, quiet except for the rustle of trees and Rusty crashing through underbrush.

“And I’m starting to wonder,” she continues, “if maybe that’s why my store got trashed. Because of the harem thing. Because I’m…” she trails off, eyes on the ground, “yours.”

I step closer, brushing my knuckles against hers. “I don’t think that’s it at all. Someone did that to hurt you, yeah. But I don’t think it was about us. We wait for the cops before jumping to conclusions, okay?”

She looks at me, searching, then nods. “Okay.”

There’s a pause. The kind that crackles with something else beneath it. Something unspoken and alive. I grin, letting the tension dissolve.

“So... your harem, huh?” I tease. “We doing auditions? Or is the roster locked?”

She laughs, that real belly-deep one that always hits me in the ribs. “Please,” she says, swatting my chest. “Tell me about the trees, smart guy. Distract me with something you know.”

“What do you want to know?” I ask, watching the way her eyes crinkle when she smiles.

“Something interesting,” she says, walking again, brushing against me.

I scan the forest. My fingers itch to touch her again, but I channel it elsewhere.

“Okay. So, see those sugar maples?” I point.

“They’re part of what’s called a climax community.

It means the forest has reached its most mature stage, a kind of balance between all the organisms living here.

These trees—maples, beech, hemlock—outcompete the others and dominate.

It takes centuries to get here, and once it does, everything—fungi, moss, animals—all settle into this stable ecosystem.

It’s like nature’s version of long-term love.

Chaos at first, but over time, everything learns to live together. ”

She stares at me, lips parted, eyes wide like I just quoted poetry instead of a lecture I gave once to a group of ten-year-olds. “That’s actually… beautiful,” she says. “You’re smart.”

I look at her, then cup the back of her neck and pull her in. “Glad you think that,” I murmur, brushing my lips against hers, “because you drive me stupid.”

She melts into the kiss, all soft lips and warm breath. I press her against a tree, my palm sliding beneath her sweater, on the bare skin of her waist.

She sighs into my mouth, and the sound curls straight through me. I groan low and nip at her bottom lip.

“Don’t do that,” I whisper against her mouth.

“Do what?” she says, all innocent, her eyes gleaming as she tilts her hips into mine.

“That sound,” I growl. “You do that and we’re not finishing this hike.”

She smiles again, like she knows exactly what she’s doing. But then her expression shifts. Serious. Conflicted. “There’s something else,” she says.

I lean back just enough to see her face. “What is it?”

“I didn’t just sleep with Julian,” she says quietly. “He… knotted me.”

A beat passes. Then another. I exhale through my nose, brush her cheek with my thumb.

Her eyes don’t leave mine, but I can see the tightness in her jaw, the way she’s waiting for the shift.

“So Noah and Julian have,” I say, not as a question.

“Yeah,” she whispers.

I nod, then lean in and kiss her again, slower this time, deeper. Not a reaction. A choice. She sighs against my mouth, and I hold her there, let the kiss linger, let it tell her what I can’t explain out loud. Not yet.

“Does that change… I mean… do you want to stop…”

“I’m still here,” I murmur when we part. “If you want me.”

She doesn’t say anything, but her fingers curl into my shirt, pulling me closer. That’s answer enough.

We stand there in the quiet woods, sun slipping through the canopy. Rusty barks somewhere up ahead, probably chasing a squirrel.

Eventually, we start walking again.