I don’t. I can’t. The world narrows to the slick heat around me and the swelling ache at my base, the perfect vice of her body coaxing my knot larger and larger until, with a final, grinding shove, I pop fully inside her. She screams, raw and triumphant, and the sensation of my knot locking us together is overwhelming—so tight, so hot, that I nearly black out from the intensity. I pulse inside her, waves of pleasure rolling through both of us, and her limbs jerk as she comes again, milking every drop from me.
The sensation of being locked inside her is wild, animal, a mix of heady triumph and sweet helplessness. I can’t move, not really, not with my knot swelling and anchoring me so deeply inside her body that it feels like we’ve become a single, shuddering creature. It’s a different kind of surrender, not just for her but for me, and the final, greedy tugs of her muscles around my base send tremors up my spine. I can feel every twitch, every flutter, every aftershock of her climax echoing up through my own body.
She buries her face in my neck, teeth scraping along my collarbone, and she’s gripping my hair so hard it hurts, but I love it. I want to give her more. She’s panting, whimpering, all words forgotten now, just a mess of need and instinct beneath me.
There is a compulsion rising in me — a hunger that’s more than just about the physical. It’s in my blood, in my marrow, an electric charge that demands release. I want to mark her, claim her in a way that will outlast the fever of this heat, something written in tooth and blood.
The urge to bite is overwhelming.
I resist for a moment, just to savour the anticipation, and in that heartbeat, I realise she wants it too; she’s arching her throat, exposing her pulse, her body begging for the final act. The air is thick with the scent of sex and longing, every sense sharpened to a knife’s edge.
I can’t help but imagine how it will feel: her skin splitting beneath my teeth, the rush of her blood pounding in my mouth, the way her body will tense and surrender under the pain-pleasure of it. I want to see the mark it will leave, the way it will brand her as mine for as long as we live. The sound of her voice, ragged and desperate, whisperspleaseagain, and that’s all I need. I lower my mouth to her throat, tongue flicking over her pulse point, and she shivers, eyes rolling back. My canines ache, sharp and eager, and I give in to the impulse that has been building since the moment I first scented her in heat.
I sink my teeth into her neck, and the sensation is instant: she jerks against me, her entire body stiffening, then melting in my arms as the pain gives way to a tidal wave of pleasure. I taste her, salt and copper and something wild, and the claiming rushes through both of us, fusing us together more completely than the knot alone ever could. She clenches around me, a final, desperate pull, and I roar against her skin, hips locked tight to hers, every nerve ending set alight.
She’s sobbing now, clutching me with a fierceness that borders on feral, and I hold her just as tight, not daring to let go. In that moment, I feel her previous pain, her vulnerability, her raw emotion seeping into my soul. It’s like we’re two halves of a whole, fitting together perfectly in each other’s arms.
As her sobs quiet down to gentle sniffles, she looks up at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. And in that gaze, I see a reflection of my own emotions mirrored back at me. The connection between us is undeniable, almost palpable, as if an invisible thread binds us together.
That’s exactly what the bond feels like,I realise.
A smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I register how right this feels, how effortlessly we’ve fallen into sync with one another. It’s a feeling unlike any other, a sense of peace and contentment settling over me like a warm blanket.
And in that moment, as I hold her close, I know that this is where I belong, what my heart has been searching for all along.
As we lie under the starlit sky, I whisper softly, “I love you,” knowing that these three words carry the weight of my soul.
FORTY-EIGHT
KOA
Kai said it without warning.No build, no hesitation, no careful shaping of the moment to make it easier to carry. The words came out rough and unpolished last night, like he’s wasn’t entirely sure how they got past his teeth in the first place.
And now they’re just…there. Hanging between all of us, undeniable, and going around and around in my head.
Not because it was unexpected – if anyone was going to get there first, it was always going to be him – but because hearing it out loud changed the shape of everything in a way I hadn’t quite prepared for. It draws a line through the room, quiet but permanent, separating what this was from what it’s becoming.
I don’t resent it.
Even now, nearly twenty four hours later with nothing but time to think and stew on it, there’s no sharp twist of jealousy, no urge to push back against it or take something that isn’t mine yet. That’s never been how I move. Still, there’s a flicker of something low in my chest as I watch him lean in once again, as I see the way she responds to him, the way her body shifts underhis hands with a familiarity that hasn’t been earned over time but exists anyway.
It’s not bitterness.
Just awareness.
Of what it would feel like to be the one she turns to without thinking.
I stay where I am. So far, Kai and Finn have taken turns knotting Lani. Sol and I have taken a back seat, soothing her and tending to her other needs.
She won’t eat for anyone but me, and even then she’s reluctant. I keep having to bribe her to get even the smallest morsel in her and I’ve got a feeling it’s only going to ramp up over the next few days.
I’m not frozen though. Not held back by uncertainty. I’m just…waiting. Watching the moment unfold instead of forcing myself into it before it’s ready for me. That’s always been the difference between us. Kai pushes. I don’t. I read the space, the rhythm of it, the way everything is moving beneath the surface, and I step in when it aligns.
Right now, it hasn’t.
Not yet.
Her scent shifts again, softening where it had sharpened before, the warmth settling into something deeper, less volatile. Finn’s hands are still steady at her back once more, and Sol’s purr threads through the air, lower now but still present, still anchoring her where she lies. She seems to love it. I wonder ifIcould purr for her. I feel self-conscious trying, but Sol doesn’t seem to care at all. If anything, he’s enjoying it, feeling like he has a purpose while he heals a little more.