sighs and moans.
"Ride me like you know I want you to," he murmured against her ear.
"Take me all the fucking way," he muttered, hammering her harder, timing his thrusts to coincide with her jagged breaths.
"That's right, drown me with that sweet, sweet slick," he growled when she was so close she couldn't hold back any longer.
And, God help her, she did.
As the next set of orgasms crashed over her, a wave of hot slick gushed out of her and over him. Knox roared, loud enough to make the roof beams shake.
Hour after hour passed, with Knox showing her pleasure that she'd never imagined possible. He took her in ways that would have made her blush in her old life but now only made her want more.
She lost all track of time, all sense of propriety, all concerns except for having Knox in her, on her, and wrapped around her. Josie was near delirious with exhaustion and unrelenting lust when she felt a new sensation, a pressure building right at the mouth of her cunt.
Above her, Knox tensed, the muscles in his shoulders and abs going rigid. A guttural, possessive bellow ripped from his throat.
And Josie knew. This was what he meant by making her his—his knot locking them together, body and soul.
Oh, God, it was so right. So perfect.
With the last of her strength, Josie threw her arms around Knox's neck, compelled by an instinct as foreign as it was irresistible.
Knox's knot was pure heaven, but it wasn't enough. It alone could not prove to the world that Josie belonged to him and him to her. Not enough to seal the bond between them for all time.
Lifting herself onto her elbows, Josie opened her mouth wide and clamped it on his shoulder. Then she bit down hard—hard enough to break the skin.
Hard enough to sever every last tie to her old life and begin her new one at her alpha's side.
Chapter Eighteen
Only after four days of making love to his omega, pounding and knotting her over and over again, putting every last bit of his energy into satisfying her heat-driven passions, did Knox realize what an idiot he had been.
Ever since the day he first set foot in the Boundarylands with a chip on his shoulder, he'd let anyone who asked know that he had no intention of ever claiming an omega of his own. Now Knox realized that was like saying "No thanks, I'll pass" when offered a chance at heaven on earth.
The difference between sex with a beta prostitute and sex with Josie…they weren't even on the same level. It was like comparing the scratchy wool blanket from his despised ROTC days to the soft fur blanket that now covered his bed, or the Hamburger Helper his mother used to prepare to fresh-caught brook trout.
Knox had been living half a life before.
This certainty had come to him the instant he'd caught Josie’s scent drifting from the edge of his property a few days ago. In that moment, all of his confusion had lifted. Everything had become clear.
Every misguided ideal he once held dear, every notion about what was precious—his freedom, his independence, his pride—they were all illusions. All of them as insignificant as dust when compared to the only thing that mattered.
Josie.
In the days and nights since then, every waking moment, every fevered dream, every minute spent resting in each other's arms had only further cemented that conviction.
From the moment Josie had reached up to touch his face, Knox had known the truth. When his knot had locked into place inside her, he'd rejoiced in it. And when he felt the ecstasy of her claiming bite moments before returning it, he'd sealed that truth forever.
Josie's commitment to him had erased so much of the detritus of his old life. The moment her teeth had sunk into his skin, Knox had felt the old wounds he'd always carried deep inside him wash away. The need to lash out eased and was replaced by a peace he'd never imagined was possible.
Even though Knox felt he would never be completely worthy of the scar on his shoulder, he was determined to wear it like a damn badge of honor. He couldn't think of any possession he was more grateful for.
Knox had taken this moment of quiet after her heat to sit in his wooden porch chair and watch the sun settle down toward the west. Unconsciously, he lifted his fingers to trace the outline of her bite through his shirt.
His chest