The Golden Line (Knotted 1)
She drew away, shook her head, and said, “No.”
He sounded out her word. “No?” He parroted the word a second time, “No,” and it seemed to dawn on him what it meant.
Morgaine didn’t speak his language any better than he spoke hers, but she thought to placate the male before he might punish her withdrawal. Pulling her arms tight around her middle, failing at offering a neutral smile, she chewed a lip and glanced toward the bathroom.
She might have been crusted with his dried come, but the Alpha narrowing his eyes bore marks of his own.
His blood was caked under her nails, just as his skin was covered in the scratches she’d put there. She’d even left the bite of her teeth on his arm and shoulder. But, there were bruises on her where the Alpha had grabbed too tight, her inner thighs were mottled, and between her legs thrummed an abiding ache.
Afraid that if she did not leave his nest he would try to mount her again, she startled when the male traced a finger down her thigh.
He said her name. “Morgaine, clota via kan’nai.”
Bladder near bursting and extremely thirsty, she dared to look in the direction of the washroom again.
Hands braced upon the edge of the bed, boxing her in, Simin rose, massive and looming. When she thought to scoot back, he took her upper arm and said her word, “No.”
Climbing out of the nest with ease, he took her arm, helped her up, and led Morgaine exactly where she kept staring. At the door, he said a word that sounded like a sneeze. “Achoo.”
Staring through the portal straight at the toilet, she tried to brush him off.
He said, “No,” squeezed her arm, and went in with her. He even sat her down on the toilet, no matter her hesitation. “Achoo.”
Urinating before she could stop herself, and absolutely hating the way he smiled down and pat her head, Morgaine dared to growl. It was as low and thoroughly annoyed as she could manage.
The jerk laughed, reaching between her legs to wipe her clean.
He was careful, but it stung both her pride and the place he had repeatedly knotted. Fingernails digging into his forearm, Morgaine hissed at the contact. She forced him off and gave the male a look that said if he touched her again she was going to hurt him.
Simin backed away.
Arms crossed over his chest, he cocked a brow, as if telling her to finish.
Frustrated, sore, upset about the lack of privacy in her life, Morgaine obeyed.
As soon as she was off the vessel, the Alpha brushed her aside, his flaccid member already in hand. As he took his turn, he put a hand to the wall, leaned forward, and threw back his head on a sigh.
Morgaine just stood there gawking. When he shrugged at her expression, she threw a hand over her eyes, rushed out of the room, apologizing as if she’d done something wrong.
He was after her in an instant, had her cornered against the wall, and there was no more laughter.
Bulk pressed her flat, immobile, and lips came to Morgaine’s ear. Then silence.
Simin didn’t speak. What he was doing or why, she could not make out. Trapped as she was, all she could see was the male’s tense shoulders moving with his breaths.
Teeth set to her earlobe and on her sharp inhale, he bit down. Lower his head went, and then he bit her neck. No skin was broken, but the force of his jaw inspired an ache, the action pure warning. He was not toying with her, working to seduce, or even offering comfort.
He was telling the Omega who was in charge, who was to be obeyed, and who held her very life in his jaws.
It was not until those sharp nips grazed her shoulder that light warning became rough action. There he set his mouth, licking a single spot clean. The flat of his tongue working, her skin growing pink, he drew out a flush.
One large hand took her jaw, angling her head, the other took a firm hold of her hip. Between their bodies, his cock grew hard and dripped the pearly warning that he was ready to fuck again.
No purr was offered to induce her calm.
He was all Alpha, she was cornered Omega, and his message was coming through loud and clear.
Do not run from me.