Knot A Trace: Part One

I swear I didn’t come here for this.

My plan was to talk to Skylar and resign myself to the fact that I’m not good enough for her.

That she can never be mine, no matter how much I may want it.

I could rid myself of this obsession and rein in my inner Alpha that’s been begging to come out since I first locked eyes with her.

Then I would keep my word and do my best to investigate her friend. And once that was done, we would part ways, and she would be out of my mind.

But with my face buried in her perfect, sweet cunt, I realize I’m fucked.

I’m not going anywhere, ever.

She could have a pack of twenty Alphas and I’d sit there in line, waiting for my turn just to lick her vanilla-honey slick.

But for now, she’s all mine, and I don’t have to share her with anyone.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Her legs are wrapped around my shoulders and her ass is tilted towards my face, giving me a perfect view of everything. My tongue finds her clit, dancing little circles around it, and I’m rewarded with a fresh burst of slick all over my face.

Fucking heaven.

“Alpha,” she moans, and my cock almost bursts out of my jeans.

I’m close to popping a knot in my pants, but I’m content to just lick her cunt all day if it will make her happy.

I could live off of her taste.

A diet of nothing but Skylar.

When I finally come up for air, I meet her wild, lust fueled eyes. “Your perfect cunt tastes just like those cookies,” I say, meaning every word. “Even better. Sweeter.”

“Oh,” she whispers. Her sweater has fallen off her shoulders, and she’s left in only a tank top, giving me a view of her rosy nipples.

Wait, maybe I actually fucking died of sleep deprivation, and this isn’t real.

Because there’s no way that she would be willingly thrusting her delicious pussy on me, unless she was as warped in the head as I am.

But the ache in my cock reminds me that I am fully awake, and by some miracle, this perfect Omega is under my tongue.

I don’t even need her to touch me. I could stay here on my knees, doing everything I can to make those sounds come out of her.

It’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard, and she’s not even in Heat.

Thinking of knotting her and taking her in that lavender nesting blanket makes me groan into her cunt, and she pulls on my hair.

Yes.

“I’m going to come,” she chokes out as she thrusts her pelvis against my face.

It’s perfect.

Her second orgasm is more violent than her first one, and I have to grip the inside of her thighs to keep her from falling off the couch. All I can smell and taste is sugar as she gushes directly down my throat.

I growl into her cunt at the same time she screams, her grip on my hair deliciously painful.

With my mouth on her, there’s no racing thoughts or painful, debilitating anxiety.

There’s just Omega.

When she finally comes down from her release, she’s a mess of quivering limbs. She slumps against the couch, her eyelids heavy, and lets out a content, gentle sigh.

It’s a fucking beautiful sound, and she looks as peaceful as I feel.

My face is covered in Skylar, and I never want to wash it off.

But then she sits back up as I rise from between her legs. Her hand reaches out wildly towards me, running down my stomach as I stand over her. “Wait…you didn’t…” she mumbles, her eyes barely open.

I chuckle. As much as I want her hands and mouth on me, I’m not going to have her do it because she feels obligated.

I move her hand away and she flops against the couch, curling on her side and giving me a lazy smile.

“The first time we fuck,” I promise her, leaning over to press my lips to hers, “will not be on your couch, or when you’re falling asleep. Or when you’re still recovering from a concussion. This was about you.”

She hums against my mouth as I kiss her. “Sorry,” she whispers as she pulls away.

I scoff. “You’re just as crazy as I thought,” I mutter. “Apologizing for coming all over my face.”

“Hmm.”

She’s half asleep, her lips now shiny with her slick, and I couldn’t imagine a more perfect sight.

I’m so fucked—if she knew the thoughts I’m already having about her, she would run away.

I get too intense too quickly, and it’s happening right now as I watch her smile up at me.

“Where are your towels?” I ask her.

“My bathroom, top cabinets,” she yawns.

I don’t need to be told twice. My inner Alpha roars, desperate to fuck, but I ignore him as I finally make my way to the place I couldn’t stop imagining.

Her bedroom.

I flip on the light and take in everything.

Her expensive Omega brand bed. The pictures on the wall. Even the setup of her furniture.

Whether or not she realizes it, it all defines Skylar.

My Omega.

Fuck, it feels good to think that.

She’s never getting rid of me now.

I couldn’t leave her even if I wanted to.

Skylar’s asleep by the time I come back after washing up.

Gently, I clean her, taking my time wiping away our mess with a damp towel. I push her hair out of her eyes and caress her face, watching her as she sleeps.

Mine.

She wakes up as I slide my jacket out from underneath her, the fabric a ruined mess from her cunt.

I fucking love it.

She opens her dark blue eyes, and my breath catches when she smiles.

“Hey,” she whispers. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning you up,” I murmur.

She frowns. “You don’t have to do that.”

And suddenly, I’m furious at whoever made her think she didn’t deserve to be treated like this.

I make a mental note to find all her exes and murder them slowly.

I continue running the washcloth down her body and between her legs, making her gasp. “I want to take care of you,” I purr, my chest rumbling. “Let me.”

Her eyes widen and turn glassy, and I wonder if I’ve said too much and this is the moment where she runs away screaming from me.

“Hold me?” she asks instead, her voice soft and vulnerable.

My heart aches.

Placing the cloth down, I join her on the couch, lying beside her. It’s a snug fit, but she wraps herself around me and lays her head on my chest. My arms rest around her waist and she nuzzles into my neck.

It’s fucking heaven. I haven’t been intimate like this with someone in years. Her scent mingles with mine, and I’m at peace.

My chest rumbles, purring for her, and she sighs in my arms.

“I wish it could always be like this,” she whispers.

I swallow and reach up to stroke her hair.

I could do this with her forever. Damn everything else.

You’re always too intense and too fast.

So, I bite my tongue and press a kiss to her hair instead of spilling every thought I have of her.

“Why were you really in town?” she asks after a few minutes of silence. I thought she had fallen asleep and was content to feel her chest rise and fall against mine all night.

I play with a lock of her hair, my fingers dancing through the strands. “We’ve been asked to investigate overdoses,” I explain, staring up at her ceiling. “It’s pretty boring stuff. But we were questioning someone not too far from here, and I wanted to check on you. And ask you about your friend.”

Her breathing stills and her scent spikes suddenly. “Well, that didn’t work out,” she mutters into my chest, letting out a bitter laugh.

My grip around her tightens. “I’m not leaving until we do,” I promise her. “I’m not leaving until you give me every bit of information you know about April. You have my word.”

She sighs, and her breathing becomes even again. “Thank you,” she whispers. “I’d like to talk about her in the morning. It’s…too much tonight.”

I press another kiss to her hair, and she sighs into my neck. “Of course,” I say.

I’ll do whatever she wants, I realize suddenly. I’ll drop every other case. I’ll leave the bureau for her.

Too intense, too fast.

You’ll scare her away.

“Overdoses?” she repeats, pulling me out of my spiral.

“There’s a street drug that’s meant to emulate a Rut,” I explain, my hand moving from her hair to draw circles up her spine. “But it uses artificial Omega pheromones and painkillers.”

“That’s…bizarre,” she says slowly. “But isn’t that what police and drug task forces are for? Why are you guys involved in it?”

I’m surprised she’s so interested in my work, and it makes me eager to explain to her. “We think outside the box. Some people open up to us better because we seem like normal citizens. Or we do undercover work. We have more resources and fewer rules.”

“Hmm. So, like a spy.”

I chuckle. “Sure. Like a spy.”

“Oh, so do you have handcuffs and a gun?” She lifts her head from my neck and stares down at me, her pupils blown.

“Weapon, yes. Handcuffs, no.”

She pouts. “Damn. That would have been fun.”

I burst out laughing and lean up to kiss her.

I’m incredibly fucked, and I don’t mind one bit.