Page 25 of Knot Our Omega

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Page 25 of Knot Our Omega

My sister?

Different, I’d learned when I walked in on her once with a boy—not one of her eventual pack.

But I came to these males completely innocent, and as he strummed my most private places, I learned more than in all my years so far.

Chapter Fifteen

Penn

When I woke up, Rumor had already left.

For a moment, I wondered if it had all been a dream—a blissful, wonderful dream. But her scent was still heavy in the air. And all I could think about was the way her soft lips felt against mine.

The way she trusted me in a way she’d never trusted anyone before.

The way she came undone beneath my fingers.

The way she tasted on my lips when I licked them clean—and the way she blushed. That beautiful, adorable blush.

Her curves caught my attention the very first time I saw her. But yesterday…yesterday, I got to explore them. I got to feel her up close. She’d nibbled on my lips, sighed those happy little sounds, welcomed my fingers inside her. She—

I was hard, and she wasn’t even in the room. Or maybe I was still hard from last night.

Without consciously deciding to, I reached down into my sleep pants, just to give some pressure, to relieve the ache. But when my fingers wrapped around my length, I imagined it was Rumor’s hand. Her scent was still close, saturating my sheets, my skin, my thoughts.

I replayed last night—our first kiss, her whispered moans, the way she fell apart in my arms—as I stroked myself, not even trying to hold back. Her name was on my lips when I came, coating my hand, streaking up my chest.

That’s when I noticed her.

Rumor was standing in the doorway, her eyes wide—and then falling to the floor the second she realized what she’d walked in on.

“Good morning, beautiful,” I said gently.

She had no reason to be embarrassed. Neither did I. She was my mate. Of course it was her I was thinking about.

“I came to get you for breakfast,” she said, flustered. “I thought you were still sleeping.”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” I told her, my voice softer now. “But I was thinking of you.”

Her cheeks flushed deep rose. “When you did that…you were thinking of me?”

“Only you.”

She stood there for a moment, as if unsure of what to do. Honestly, I wasn’t either. What I wanted was to ask her to come in, to stay. Let me wrap myself in her scent a little longer. But I was a sticky mess, and she’d made breakfast.

“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” I told her.

She nodded and left, still so shy even after last night. Adorable.

When I came down, she was kneading dough—maybe for bread, maybe for pizza—but either way, she was working that dough like it owed her money. My breakfast was already on the counter, waiting for me.

“You made this?”

She shook her head. “No, it was Vargas. But it’s good—he’s a very good cook.” He really was.

“What are you baking?”

“In theory, sourdough,” she said. “I tried to make my own starter. Jury’s still out.”


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