Knot Happening Again (Claimverse Book 2)

My heart races as I guide Ophelia through the restaurant doors, her hand warm in mine. The flight here was… intense. Six hours of worshipping her body, bringing her to climax again and again. I’m a seasoned traveler, but I could get used to flying the skies like this a hell of a lot more often. My own arousal throbs insistently, but I push it aside. Tonight is about her.

The maître d’ greets us with a bow. ‘Monsieur Carver, Mademoiselle Thompson. Your table is ready.’

I feel Ophelia stiffen slightly beside me at the use of her name. I squeeze her hand reassuringly as we follow the maître d’ to the elevator.

‘How do they know who I am?’ she whispers.

I lean in close, my lips brushing her ear. ‘I may have mentioned I was bringing someone special.’

I can’t blame her for being on edge now that those bastards have plastered her name all over every gossip rag. All the more reason to get her away from it all for a little while. I know that’s a big part of why the others agreed to my plans for the evening.

The elevator doors open to reveal the rooftop, and I hear Ophelia’s sharp intake of breath. The city of Toulouse stretches out before us, a tapestry of twinkling lights and ancient architecture. The Garonne River winds through it all, a silver ribbon in the moonlight.

‘Leon,’ she breathes, ‘it’s beautiful.’

Pride swells in my chest. I’d hoped she’d like it, but seeing the wonder in her eyes makes all the planning worth it.

I lead her to our table, pulling out her chair. As she sits, I catch a whiff of her scent—ocean and bliss, tinged with the lingering arousal from our activities on the plane. It takes every ounce of self-control not to pull her into my arms right then and there.

Instead, I take my seat across from her, drinking in the sight of her. The soft glow of the candles dances across her features, highlighting the curve of her cheek, the fullness of her lips. God, she’s beautiful.

The waiter appears with a bottle of wine, pouring us each a glass. As he leaves, a violinist emerges from the shadows, the first notes of a haunting melody filling the air.

Ophelia’s eyes widen. ‘Is this… just for us?’

I nod, unable to keep the smile from my face. ‘The whole restaurant is tonight. I wanted it to be special.’

She takes a sip of her wine, her gaze never leaving mine. ‘You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.’

‘I wanted to,’ I say softly. ‘You deserve it, Ophelia. You deserve the world.’

I’ll tell her that as many times as she needs to hear it to believe it, and then some.

A blush creeps up her cheeks, and she looks away, out over the city. ‘It would be something, wouldn’t it? To live in a place like this. So much history, so much inspiration…’

My heart skips a beat. Is she considering it? The house is hers, after all. She could stay here, start a new life…

This is her decision to make, and I have to respect whatever she chooses.

As if reading my thoughts, Ophelia turns back to me, a knowing smile playing on her lips. ‘But there’s no place like home,’ she says. ‘Though… I wouldn’t mind spending vacations here. With the pack.’

Relief and joy wash over me. I reach across the table, taking her hand in mine. ‘We’d all like that,’ I say, my voice thick with emotion.

The rest of the dinner passes in a blur of exquisite food and easy conversation. It feels… right, being here with her like this.

Like no time has passed at all.

As the waiter clears our dessert plates, I stand, offering Ophelia my hand. ‘There’s something I want to show you.’

She takes it, allowing me to lead her to the edge of the rooftop. The canal stretches out below us, dark and mysterious in the night.

‘Watch,’ I whisper, nodding to a figure in a gondola below.

The gondolier strikes a match, and suddenly the water comes alive with light. Hundreds of candles float on the surface, spelling out Ophelia’s name in flickering flame.

I hear her gasp beside me. ‘Leon,’ she breathes, “this is… it’s too much. It’s… ridiculous and over the top and⁠—”

‘Are you complaining?’ I ask, unable to keep the smirk from my voice.

She turns to me then, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Before I can react, she’s in my arms, her lips crashing against mine.

I pull her close, one hand tangling in her hair as the other wraps around her waist. She tastes like mint and chocolate and something uniquely Ophelia. I could get drunk on this kiss alone.

When we finally break apart, both breathless, I can’t help but smile. ‘So… not complaining then?’

Ophelia laughs, the sound like music to my ears. ‘Definitely not complaining.’

‘Would you like to see your new place?’ I ask softly, not wanting to break the spell of the moment but eager to show her the home I’ve prepared for her.

She nods, a mix of excitement and nervousness in her eyes. ‘Lead the way.’

Hand in hand, we make our way down the cobblestone streets. The city is quieter now, most of its inhabitants tucked away for the night. Our footsteps echo off the ancient buildings, and I can’t help but imagine a life here with Ophelia. Lazy Sunday mornings in bed, exploring the city’s hidden treasures, making love on the balcony as the sun sets…

I shake my head, forcing myself back to the present.

One step at a time, Leon.

We round a corner, and there it is—a beautiful townhouse overlooking the canal. I fish the keys out of my pocket, holding them out to Ophelia.

‘It’s yours,’ I say softly. ‘If you want it.’

She takes the keys, turning them over in her hand. For a moment, I think she might cry. But then she’s moving, pressing me back against the door, her lips finding mine in a searing kiss.

I groan, my hands settling on her hips as I pull her closer. The keys clatter to the ground, forgotten.

‘Don’t you want the tour first?’ I ask when we come up for air, my voice rough with desire.

Ophelia’s eyes are dark, hungry. ‘Bedroom,’ she growls. ‘Now.’

A thrill runs through me at her command. I snatch the keys off the ground and then scoop her up in my arms. She lets out a surprised squeak, her arms wrapping around my neck.

‘Your wish is my command,’ I murmur, fumbling with the lock.

The door swings open, and I carry Ophelia over the threshold. The house is beautiful—all high ceilings and classic French architecture—but I barely notice as I navigate the stairs, too focused on the woman in my arms.

I find the master bedroom easily enough, kicking the door open with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. Ophelia giggles at my eagerness, the sound sending a jolt of heat straight to my core.

‘Careful, I’ll have to invoice you for that,’ she teases, her arms draped around my neck.

‘Worth it,’ I tell her.

I set her down gently on the bed, taking a moment to drink in the sight of her. Her hair is mussed, lips swollen from our kisses. Her dress has ridden up, revealing a tantalizing expanse of creamy thigh.

‘You’re beautiful,’ I breathe, unable to keep the awe from my voice.

Ophelia reaches for me, pulling me down onto the bed with her. ‘Show me,’ she whispers against my lips.

I don’t need to be told twice. My hands roam her body, relearning every curve, every dip. I unzip her dress slowly, savoring each inch of skin revealed.

As I slide the garment off her shoulders, I pause, overcome with emotion. This is really happening. After all these years, all the pain and regret, Ophelia is here in my arms again.

‘Leon?’ Her voice is soft, questioning. ‘What’s wrong?’

I shake my head, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. ‘Nothing’s wrong,’ I murmur against her skin. ‘Everything’s perfect. I just… I can’t believe this is real. That you’re real. You don’t know how many times you haven’t been.’ When I see the way she’s looking at me, I clarify. ‘How many times you’ve haunted my dreams. How many times I thought I saw your face in a crowd and chased you, thinking…’ I trail off, shaking my head. ‘But it wasn’t you. It never was.’

Ophelia’s gaze softens with understanding I don’t deserve. Her hand comes up to cup my cheek, guiding my face to hers. The look in her eyes takes my breath away—there’s desire there, yes, but also understanding.

Forgiveness.

Holy shit.

‘It’s real,’ she says softly. ‘I’m here. We’re here.’

I capture her lips in a tender kiss, pouring every ounce of love and gratitude I feel into it. She responds eagerly, her body arching into mine.

My hands slide down her sides, fingertips tracing the lace of her bra. ‘May I?’ I ask, tugging gently at the fabric.

Ophelia nods, lifting slightly to allow me better access. I unhook the clasp, tossing the garment aside. My mouth waters at the sight of her bare breasts, nipples pebbled in the cool air of the room.

I lower my head, taking one peaked bud between my lips. Ophelia gasps, her fingers tangling in my hair as I lavish attention on first one breast, then the other.

‘Leon,’ she moans, her hips rolling against mine. ‘Please…’

The needy tone in her voice sends a jolt of arousal through me. I trail kisses down her stomach, hooking my fingers in the waistband of her panties.

‘These need to go,’ I growl, sliding them down her legs.ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

Ophelia kicks them off impatiently, spreading her legs in clear invitation. The scent of her arousal hits me like a freight train, making my mouth water.

I settle between her thighs, pressing a kiss to the inside of her knee. ‘I’m going to taste you again,’ I tell her, my voice rough with desire. ‘Is that okay?’

She nods frantically, her hands fisting in the sheets. ‘Yes, please…’

I don’t need any further encouragement. I dive in, my tongue parting her folds in one long, slow lick. The taste of her explodes on my tongue, and I groan, the vibrations making her gasp.

I take my time, exploring every inch of her with lips and tongue. I spell out my devotion against her clit, pour my apologies into every thrust of my fingers.

Ophelia writhes beneath me, her moans growing louder and more desperate. I can feel her getting close, her thighs trembling on either side of my head.

‘Leon,’ she pants, ‘I’m gonna-‘

‘Come for me, beautiful,’ I murmur against her heated flesh. ‘Let go. I’ve got you.’

With a cry that echoes off the high ceilings, Ophelia comes apart under my ministrations. I work her through it, not letting up until she pushes weakly at my head, oversensitive.

I press one last kiss to her inner thigh before moving back up her body. Ophelia pulls me in for a deep kiss, tasting herself on my tongue.

‘That was…’ she breathes when we part.

I grin, nuzzling into her neck. ‘Just the beginning,’ I promise. ‘We’ve got all night, Ophelia. And I plan to worship every inch of you.’

Ophelia’s eyes are dark with desire as she looks up at me. ‘Leon,’ she breathes, ‘I want you inside me.’

My heart skips a beat. Is she really saying what I think she’s saying? I search her face, looking for any sign of hesitation or doubt. ‘Are you sure?’ I ask, my voice rough with need. ‘Last time, when we completed the mark, that was… different. We don’t have to⁠—’

She cuts me off, her fingers tangling in my hair as she pulls me down for a searing kiss. When we break apart, she’s panting, her cheeks flushed. ‘I’m sure,’ she says firmly. ‘I need you, Leon. All of you. Your knot, everything. Right now.’

A growl rumbles in my chest, primal and possessive. I’ve dreamed of this moment for seven long years, and now that it’s here, of her actually letting me make love to her without any reservations, and I can hardly believe it’s real. But Ophelia’s scent surrounds me, her skin warm and soft beneath my hands. This is no dream.

‘As you wish,’ I murmur, capturing her lips in another kiss.

I position myself between her legs, the head of my cock sliding through her slick folds. She’s so wet, so ready for me. I have to take a deep breath to keep from losing control right then and there.

Slowly, achingly slowly, I push into her. We both groan at the sensation. She’s tight, hot, perfect. It takes every ounce of willpower I possess not to thrust wildly, to claim her the way my inner alpha is screaming to do.

‘Fuck, Ophelia,’ I pant, my forehead resting against hers. ‘You feel incredible.’

She whimpers, her hips rocking up to meet mine. ‘Move, Leon. Please.’

I don’t need to be told twice. I start to move, setting a steady rhythm. Each thrust sends sparks of pleasure shooting through me. Ophelia meets me move for move, her nails digging into my shoulders.

‘That’s it,’ I murmur, peppering kisses along her jaw.

Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me deeper. The new angle has her crying out, her back arching off the bed. I can feel her getting close, her walls fluttering around me.

‘Leon,’ she gasps, ‘I’m so close. Don’t stop.’

I pick up the pace, driving into her harder, faster. My hand snakes between us, finding her clit. I circle it with my thumb, matching the rhythm of my thrusts.

Ophelia comes with a cry, her body tensing beneath me. The sight of her falling apart, the feel of her clenching around me, nearly pushes me over the edge. But I grit my teeth, determined to make this last.

As she comes down from her high, I slow my movements, giving her time to recover. I pepper her face with soft kisses, murmuring words of praise and adoration.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ I tell her, my voice thick with emotion. ‘So perfect. I love you, Ophelia. I’ve always loved you.’

Her eyes flutter open, meeting mine. There’s a vulnerability there that takes my breath away. ‘Leon,’ she whispers, and my name on her lips is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.

I start to move again, slower this time, savoring every sensation. Ophelia’s hands roam my back, tracing patterns on my skin that leave trails of fire in their wake. Her hips rise to meet mine, and we fall into a rhythm as natural as breathing.

Time loses all meaning. There’s only Ophelia, the heat of her body, the softness of her skin, the sweet sounds she makes as I bring her to the edge again and again.

I can feel my knot starting to swell, catching on her entrance with each thrust. The alpha in me roars, demanding I claim her, mark her as mine again. But I hold back, waiting for her permission.

‘Ophelia,’ I pant, my control hanging by a thread. ‘My knot… I’m close.’

She looks up at me, her blue eyes dark with desire. ‘Do it,’ she says, her voice breathy but firm. ‘I want your knot, Leon. I want all of you.’

Her words are my undoing. With a growl, I thrust deep, my knot swelling and locking us together. The sensation is overwhelming, pleasure crashing over me in waves. I come hard, spilling inside her as my hips jerk uncontrollably.

Ophelia cries out, her own orgasm hitting her. Her walls clench around me, milking every last drop. We cling to each other, riding out the aftershocks together.

As the intensity fades, I carefully maneuver us onto our sides, mindful of my knot still locked inside her. Ophelia’s breathing is ragged, her skin flushed and glistening with sweat. She’s never looked more beautiful.

I brush a strand of hair from her face, marveling at the softness of her skin. ‘Are you okay?’ I ask softly.

She nods, a small smile playing on her lips. ‘More than okay,’ she murmurs. ‘That was…’

‘Incredible,’ I finish for her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

We lie there in comfortable silence, my arms wrapped around her, her head tucked under my chin. My knot will keep us tied together for a while yet, but I’m in no hurry for this moment to end.

As my heartbeat slows and my breathing evens out, I’m struck by the enormity of what just happened. Ophelia is here, in my arms, in the home I bought for her. And she chose to come here with me. To let me in. Into her body, into her heart, into her life. She’s given me a second chance, one I know I don’t deserve but am determined to make the most of.

‘What are you thinking about?’ Ophelia asks, her voice soft and sleepy.

I tighten my arms around her, breathing in her scent. ‘How lucky I am,’ I tell her honestly. ‘How grateful. I know I’ve got a lot to make up for, Ophelia, but I swear to you, I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of you.’

She shifts in my arms, tilting her head to look up at me. There’s a softness in her eyes that makes my heart ache. ‘You’ve changed. I can see it, feel it.’

Her words fill me with a warmth I can’t describe. I lean down, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. When we part, I rest my forehead against hers. ‘I love you,’ I murmur. ‘I never stopped loving you, not for a single day.’

Ophelia’s quiet for a long moment, and I hold my breath, wondering if I’ve said too much too soon. But then she speaks, her voice barely above a whisper. ‘I think… I don’t think I ever stopped loving you, either. God, sometimes I wanted to.’

Joy surges through me, so intense it’s almost painful. I kiss her again, pouring every ounce of love and gratitude I feel into it. When we break apart, we’re both breathless.

‘We’ve got a lot to figure out,’ Ophelia says, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest. ‘With the pack, with… everything. But I want to try.’

I nod, understanding the weight of what she’s saying. ‘We’ll take it one day at a time,’ I promise her. ‘There’s no rush. We’ve got the rest of our lives ahead of us.’

She smiles at that, soft and genuine. ‘The rest of our lives,’ she repeats, as if testing out the words. ‘I like the sound of that.’