Page 65 of Knot a Bad Idea
“I…ah…”
The hand not caging me in lifts underneath my skirt, moving up to my inner thighs. “I missed you,” he pants. “I missed you so fucking much, sweetheart. You havenoidea.”
His fingers brush against my clothed pussy and he groans against my skin.
Then, vicious laughter from downstairs echoes, and my eyes snap open.
Reality sets in.
I can’t have this, and I refuse to give in to him.
I yank myself from Hunter’s mouth and slap his hand away, despite my inner Omega screaming for more.
He knows I’m soaked, but it doesn’t matter.
“We’re not together,” I hiss out. “None of this is real.”
His eyes flare. “It’s very fucking real,” he says, keeping me caged in. “Stop lying to yourself.”
My eyes widen in disbelief and anger. “Fuck off, Hunter,” I spit.
But he takes a step closer, until our chests are almost touching, and he licks his lips. “Make me,” he whispers.
I stare into his eyes, looking into the swirl of rich amber and gold, and make my decision.
Malicious compliance goes out the window, and so does the concept of taking baby steps when my palm connects with his face in a loudslap.
So dramatic, April.
My hand burns as his eyes widen, but then a smirk forms on his face. He barely flinched, and if anything, it only excited him more.
“Oh, we should have been doing this a long time ago,” he purrs, delighted.
“You’re insane,” I hiss. “Leave me alone. Next time, I’ll use my fist.”
And probably break my hand in the process, but at least my point will get across.
Hunter takes a step back and lowers his arm, allowing me to move from the wall. His gaze falls to my lips. “Think about what I said, April. And believe us when we show you who we are. Donovan included. His actions speak louder than you know.”
He leaves the room, leaving me breathless and alone.
My cunt aches, desperate for more, and my inner Omega howls in despair, lonely and touch starved.
Part of me wants to run after Hunter and drag him back in here and desecrate the poor antique bed.
But the rational part of me knows this will hurt more in the end.
So, I catch my breath, fix my hair, and unhook the velvet rope to head down the stairs.
I don’t even makeit to the ballroom before I’m stopped by a guest.
He’s dressed in a black suit and white button-up shirt, and his copper hair is slightly tousled and falls stylishly into his eyes.
He’s almost as tall as Donovan, and smells pleasant, like warm chocolate and sweet bourbon.
He’s an Alpha through and through, but with a genuine warmth on his face, one that slightly reminds me of Liam.
“You’re with Pack Axton, correct?” He stops me right before the entrance to the ballroom and grins at me. “I’m Connor. I would say I’m friends with Donovan, but I doubt he uses that word to describe anyone in his life.”