Page 18 of Love Me Knot, Part One (Knotty Omegas #1)

DAPHNE

Letting a literal stranger fuck me in public, then hand me off to his packmate is probably the wildest thing I’ve ever done. Only second to agreeing to let said rando help me through my heat.

The wary part of me is screaming about hasty decisions and consequences, but damn, being reckless feels incredible. I blame the orgasm. Or maybe it’s me finally growing into myself and realizing what I want.

Like more fabric gags, because that was hot.

Sex with Nate wasn’t just him getting off with my body.

He was with me the whole time, making me feel good.

Caring about my needs, my pleasure. Honestly, that was the best sex I’ve ever had and not just because he’s the only person I’ve been with besides my exes.

I felt seen and heard and desired in a way that goes beyond the physical. It’s unsettling.

That these men are beautiful doesn’t help, either.

Dez is nearly as tall as Nate, with these well-defined muscles that scream I hit the gym regularly .

Cropped, coarse black hair sits tight against his scalp, with flecks of vibrant color splashed across his athletic tank and brown skin.

Is that paint? It looks stunning next to those soft, knowing eyes.

There’s this serene energy to him that feels so comforting.

I can already picture us in my nest, twisted together through deep, sleepy conversation.

Shorter and leaner than his packmates, Connor’s sporting pale blue eyes, a natural tan and nearly black hair that waves around his face.

Tattoos crawl up his defined forearms under rolled-up sleeves and something tells me he has more underneath.

He may not be imposing, but this alpha exudes power.

Dominance. Like he’ll make the world bend however he pleases.

What will it feel like to have all that attention trained on me?

Then there’s Nate.

I’ve never met a man as big as him. Tall and broad, he gives the impression of a sturdy oak even in jeans and a t-shirt.

Hair shaved at the sides but still long enough on top to push back, he and Dez have the most delicious scruff.

Not full beards, but that five o’clock stubble that looks so sexy.

Nate’s rounder than the others, muscles built from daily life, belly firm but curved.

Despite his size, there’s a youthful joy to Nate that has me leaning in while my fight-or-flight is reminding me that handsome alphas who smell good are hazardous to my mental health.

His big hands wrap around the bolts I shredded, and I get a visceral reminder of that calloused skin rasping against me. I look away, ignoring the way my body heats with the urgent desire to be filled by him again.

Fine, he was right. I’m spiking.

To his credit, Nate barely acknowledges the cashier as he lays the mountain of fabric on the checkstand, but I hate how she bats her fucking lashes as she rings up his purchase.

I’ve always been territorial, though my exes didn’t like it when I indulged that part of me. Apparently, growling at people mentally undressing your partners is childish and insecure. But it’s so much harder to keep a lid on those instincts when this alpha already feels like mine.

Rip her throat out. Show her he’s yours.

Don’t kill the beta, you’re too pretty for jail.

Fighting the urge to claw her fucking eyes out takes so much focus, I barely hear the total. When I do, I nearly throw myself out of Dez’s arms. “Nate whatever your name is, stop! I only need a few yards of those.”

Even though I want to hoard all of them like the greedy little dragon I am, I can’t let him spend that much.

“Our last name is Morgan, baby. Don’t forget it.” Nate brushes his lips against my cheek, and Dez laughs so hard his whole body shakes around me.

Oh, that feels good. I wiggle closer as perfume spills around us.

“We’re going to get arrested,” Connor mutters.

Nate grins, cheeky and unrepentant. “Relax, she likes it. Don’t you, Daph?”

I’m not touching that statement with a ten-foot pole. The omega instincts that say he’s right again can kiss my ass.

Do not fall for the possessive bullshit on hour one, Daph. Fight the alpha dickmatizing.

God damn, it was good, though.

Looking anywhere but the man in front of me, I catch the cashier blatantly staring at Nate’s ass and I swear I black out. There’s no other accounting for the rage that swallows everything. My hands shake with the force of my growl, body ready to go full feral.

“ Mine .”

The pretty beta calculates her chances of winning whatever fucked up fight she thinks we’re having, but all it takes is me baring teeth again to get her turning away, cheeks blazing.

That’s fucking right. Don’t look at my alphas.

“Our perfect omega,” Nate purrs.

There’s that word again—perfect. Only, it doesn’t feel so triggering on his lips.

Not when he smells like leather, sunshine, and the faintest hint of motor oil.

Warm car seats on a summer day, all wind and smiles and singing too loud.

There’s a hint of darkness there. Hands fondling in the backseat, deep breaths and smothered cries.

The air filters must be doing their job if the cashier felt even remotely comfortable ogling him in front of me, so I slide our cheeks together even though he’s already slathered in my scent. Dez angles his face, happy to let me do the same.

While Nate handles payment—which I’m no longer fighting him about because fuck it—Connor hovers close, scent as cold as his eyes.

Waterfalls in winter. Icy freshness and the chill of potential frostbite.

The promise of danger on the horizon but also snuggling loved ones amid the cold peace of freshly fallen snow.

Already, I can tell he’s the most unreachable. The hardest nut to crack.

After an obscene scent mark across his jaw, that elusive vibe grows when Connor tries to move away. “My turn?”

He lifts his head, watching me with this broken look like he’s a million miles and another woman from here.

He’s not going to do it. I know it as sure as I know my name that he won’t give me his scent and all I can think about are the other times I’ve been denied. Other alphas who took from me and gave nothing in return.

It’s not a big deal. I’ll mark you later.

You already know you’re ours.

I’ll find you after this email is done.

I spent years trying to convince alphas I was worth their time and attention, and the only person who got hurt was me.

No way will I go through that again. Sure, alpha pheromones on my skin will ease the worst of my symptoms until we can get to a nest, but I won’t force Connor into something he doesn’t want. Dez and Nate are enough.

“You don’t have to mark me or help with my heat. I can make other arrangements. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” Every word is careful. Emotionless.

Connor jerks, coming back to reality with a grimace. He reaches for me and I shy away, hating the hurt on his face when I do. “Daphne, that’s not?—”

“It’s fine. Really.” Patting Dez on the shoulder, I whisper, “Put me down, please.”

His grip tightens. “I don’t want to. We promised to help you, and we will. Right, Connor?”

He doesn’t answer. Dez’s shirt tightens almost painfully where it’s twisted around my fingers, but I need that ache to keep the tears at bay. Heightened emotions are normal during a heat. That’s all this is. An emotional response. It’s fine that Connor doesn’t want this. He doesn’t even know me.

But it hurts, nonetheless.

Maybe that’s why I float back to that house, to the men who showed me how easy it was to choose anything and everything else first.

“Where are you going?” I pant, cramps throbbing through my pelvis. We’re three days into my heat and the pain is still excruciating, yet my alphas are heading for the door.

“There’s an emergency at work,” Corey says. Lance is already past the frame, shoes in hand. “We have to go.”

“Now?”

They’re too busy gathering clothes to see my tears, but Jacob does, and his eyes flash with annoyance. “Yes, Daphne. Now.”

“I’m in heat.” As if they forgot. As if they can’t smell it in the nest. Spread across their skin.

I reek of their scents. Their cum. Yet they seem unfazed now that they’ve rutted me into oblivion.

“And you have been for days. Will be for a few more, probably. A few hours won’t matter.”

“Call someone else.” My skin burns, body contorting to escape the agony. “Your omega needs you.”

Jacob waves the others on, but he doesn’t follow. When he lets me drag him close, my heart leaps.

He’s staying for me. He’ll help.

“Please don’t go,” I beg into his mouth, tongue running over his teeth caps. Another slap in the face. Just like the rut blockers I found in his medicine cabinet months ago. Pills meant to keep him in control so he doesn’t accidentally bond his omega.

Jacob grips my chin the way he likes and slips his lips across mine in a cruel mockery of a kiss. “No.”

The sobs finally break free. Everything hurts and he’s fucking leaving. Again. But my pleas do nothing. My pack lead ignores every tear, every pained grunt, every begging mention of his name on my tongue. The only kindness he offers is kicking a toy closer.

The first glance of vibration against my clit and the feel of the silicone inside me is a relief that swallows everything else. I don’t hear him leave and I don’t know when they come back. Or if they even do. All I can focus on is the never-ending pain. My heat breaks three days later, and so do I.

A snarl shakes me from the memory, Dez’s body vibrating beneath my hands. “What the fuck, Con? Fix it!”

“I’m trying! Daphne, look at me.” I feel eyes boring into the side of my face, but I can’t do it. Can’t lift my gaze knowing I’ll end up right there again. Alone, in pain.

The scent filters are nothing against the acrid scent of burnt sugar pouring off me.

“ Come on, angel. Look at me.” Connor’s voice softens, all deceptive sweetness.