Page 47 of Ready or Knot
I run my tongue over my lips, twisting the gold hoop once before admitting the truth.
“I’ve never done this before.”
The confession falls from my lips, breathed in the scant space between us a second before his lips are against me, his tongue twisting with mine again.
“Good,” he grunts as he pulls away. “I’m glad I’m the first one to fuck you on a desk.” His voice is practically a purr, so low it vibrates through his chest.
My body responds in a heartbeat—a rush of wet heat pulses through me, my scent grows suffocatingly strong, and my hips push forward, notching the head of his cock at my entrance. He laces his fingers with mine, cupping my face and tracing my piercings as he teases me, pressing in just enough that I feel the intense stretch.
“Carter,” I whimper.
His voice is a rasp against my skin, his brown eyes intent on me, and I shiver. “Little Omega.”
He presses in again, the sensation even more overwhelming, and it elicits a throaty noise as my thighs tremble.
I squeeze his hand.
“I meant I’ve never had sex,” I whisper.
Carter drops his forehead to mine, eyes closing, an almost mournful groan rumbling through him.
“Fuck,” he mutters.
I squirm against him, wedging his cock deeper. Need consumes me so thoroughly, I know it’s something only my Alpha can satisfy. I need his knot, and I need it now, however impractical taking my virginity in the middle of his office might be. He hisses as I manage to get him to sink a bit deeper, taking the tip entirely. He grabs my hips, forcing me to stillness, his hold tight enough that I’m pretty sure there’ll be bruises when we’re done. I squeeze his hand again, my heart in my throat at his continued hesitation.
A whine builds as he forces me to stay still, and another rush of slick drenches me—and now him. It pulls a low, wounded sound from him, rumbling through his chest.
“Please, Carter,” I whisper again, desperate. “I need you.”
His eyes flick open.
“Give me a minute,” he rasps, kissing me once.
My breath catches, and I wiggle as much as his grip will allow, trying to take him deeper, ignoring the burning stretch of it all. I clutch at his neck, my nails digging into his skin.
“Carter…Alpha, please,” I beg, and he shudders.
“Jude is going to kill me,” he admits, letting go of my hand and twisting my hair around his palm, pulling lightly.
My head falls back, my neck arching, and he kisses the hollow of my throat. My nipples brush across his shirt with every breath, and I shiver at the sensation. I roll my hips into him. He pulls harder on my hair, and I moan.
“Fuck it. It’ll be worth it,” he says against my skin, biting my collar bone before cupping my face and kissing me, his mouth devouring me in a matter of moments. My heart races, my breath coming in choppy pants. I cry out as he pulls away from me, his cock suddenly gone, a feeling of emptiness overtaking me.
“Carter,” I whisper, my voice breaking.
He brushes a thumb across my cheek, his gaze intent on me. “I’ll fuck you, Omega. But you’re going to let me make sure I don’t hurt you. Understand?”
“I don’t mind if it does, though. I know…” I chase his lips, but he evades me, cupping my chin to keep me in place, focused on his gaze. “I know knotting can be uncomfortable. I’m fine with it.”
Carter shakes his head. “I’m not talking about knotting, Faedra.”
My eyes flutter shut, and I swallow the protest forming in my throat, focusing on the feel of his body against mine. He runs a hand down my arm, threading his fingers with mine and kissing the back of my hand before kneeling in front of me again, his eyes locked on mine as he runs his lips across my inner thighs. I bite my cheek, keeping my whimper behind my lips as he sets his lips against me again, his tongue moving across my clit as thoroughly as before. My thighs shake, my hand tightening around his.
He smiles, a content hum making his lips vibrate, and I gasp. Before I can recalibrate, he’s running a finger through my pussy, spreading my slick across every inch of my skin and then pressing into my entrance, the stretch just as consuming as when Jude did it in the kitchen.
“Fuck,” he mutters, the breath against my clit making me tremble.
His movements are careful but not slow, his finger plunging into me and then out in the time it takes me to fist my hand in his hair. I drop my head back, my eyes unfocusing as I look at the ceiling, and he adds a second finger, curling them and brushing a spot inside me that has me biting my cheek again, my thighs tensing. My body rushes for the edge of that precipice, dangling me over the edge, but I fight to keep from falling, my nails digging into his skin as he adds a third finger and wrings a startled gasp from me.