Page 19 of Knotted by the Mountain Man Dragon

“You could have warned me.”

“I did.”

“You said it would feel like ‘a lot.’ That was not adequate preparation.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “What would have been adequate?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a signed waiver. A helmet. Emotional support.”

He huffs. It might be a laugh. From Cage Brannon, I’m guessing that’s practically hysterical.

We lie there, knotted together, his body a furnace around mine. Rain taps the window. The woodstove ticks downstairs. I can feel his heartbeat where his chest is pressed to mine, slow and steady, and for the first time in my life I feel something I can’t quite name.

Not just satisfied.

Not just safe.

Home.

Which is insane, because I have known this man for mere hours.

His knot pulses inside me and I gasp and he presses his lips to my temple.

“Stay still,” he murmurs. “It’ll ease in a few minutes.”

“And then?”

“And then I’m going to feed you again.”

“You already fed me.”

“You’re going to be hungry.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I plan to make you hungry.”

The gold in his eyes flares.

Oh.

Oh.

Chapter Six

Cage

She falls asleep in my bed.

In my bed. Not the spare room. Mine.

Her hair is spread across my pillow. One of her legs is thrown over mine. My flannel is long gone, lost somewhere in the sheets, and she’s pressed against me, bare skin to bare skin, her face tucked into the curve of my neck where my scent is strongest.

She did that in her sleep. Burrowed into me and pressed her nose against my throat and sighed and went boneless. Her omega finding the place it feels safest.

I don’t sleep.

Not because I’m not tired. Because I refuse to miss a single second of this.