Page 18 of Knotted by the Mountain Man Dragon

“Yours.” The word falls out of me without permission. My omega said it. I meant it. Both are true. “I’m yours.”

He makes a sound that isn’t a word. Something between a growl and a roar, and his pace goes from hard to brutal and I’m not screaming anymore, I’m just making sounds I’ve never made before, raw and broken and desperate.

The orgasm builds like a wave I can’t outrun. Pressure and heat and a tightening in my core that gets stronger with every thrust. His hand slides between us, his thumb finding my clit, pressing and circling, and I’m gone.

“Cage, I’m going to…”

“I know. Come on my cock, baby. Let me feel you.”

I shatter.

The orgasm tears through me like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Not even close. Not the garage, not the truck, nothing. This is full-body, full-soul, every nerve firing at once, and I’m clenching around him so hard he groans and his rhythm stutters and I feel something change.

At the base of his cock. Something thickening. Swelling. Pressing against my entrance with each stroke, getting bigger, stretching me wider.

I know what it is.

I know conceptually, academically, from health class and from the whispered conversations between omegas, what an alpha’s knot is. I know it happens. I know it’s biological. I know it’s supposed to feel good.

Knowing and feeling are very different things.

“Cage… is that…”

“My knot.” He pulls back enough to look at me. Gold eyes blazing. Scales flickering across his cheekbones. “It’s going to lock us together. It’s going to feel like a lot.”

”A lot?”

“I’m going to fill you, Mara. All of you. And then we’re going to stay like that while I come inside you, and your body is going to hold me there because that’s what it was designed to do.”

I should be terrified.

My omega is thrilled.

“Yes,” I breathe. “Yes, I want it.”

Something breaks behind his eyes. The last thread of whatever control he’s been clinging to snaps, and he drives into me, hard, and the knot locks.

The stretch is blinding. Full doesn’t cover it. Complete doesn’t cover it. It’s like every hollow, restless, searching thing I’ve ever felt gets filled at once. Not just physically. Somewhere deeper. Somewhere my omega has been waiting my entire life for exactly this.

I come again. Harder. A second orgasm that rolls through me like thunder, and I feel him follow. His whole body goes rigid, his hips pressed flush against mine, and he comes inside me with a groan that vibrates through my bones. Hot. Pulsing. So much that I gasp and my hands claw at his back and I feel tears on my face and I don’t know when I started crying.

He doesn’t pull out. He can’t. That’s the point.

We’re locked together, his weight on his elbows, his forehead pressed against mine. His breathing is ragged. His eyes are still gold but softer now, warmer, like embers instead of fire. Smoke has stopped curling from his nostrils. The scales have receded. He looks human again, mostly, except for the eyes.

“Okay?” he asks. His voice is wrecked. Gentle. Completely at odds with the man who was just growling mine while he drove into me hard enough to move the bed frame.

“I think you broke me,” I whisper.

“No.” He brushes hair off my forehead with a touch so careful it makes my chest ache. “I just… found you.”

I laugh. It comes out watery. “That was the most… I didn’t know it could…”

“Neither did I.”

I blink. “You’ve never knotted before?”

“I’ve knotted. Not like that. Not even close to like that.” He shifts slightly, carefully, and even that small movement sends aftershocks rippling through me. “True mate knotting is different. The bond amplifies everything.”