Knot Over (Omega Den #3)

9. Kaylani

Chapter 9

Kaylani

T he pain is excruciating, as if someone took a red-hot poker, plunged it into the fire, and then pierced my flesh with it. I cry out as another wave of slick rushes down my thighs. A cold sweat breaks out on my forehead, and my clothes feel suffocating. Desperation takes over as I begin to blindly claw at my sweat-soaked garments, trying to rip them off.

Vaughn appears above me, his lips are moving, but I can’t make out anything he is saying. My heart pounds in my ears, drowning out all other sounds. He glances over his shoulder as he speaks and there’s tension in his jaw that I want to smooth away. I fixate on the spot between his brows, which are pinched with concern as his dark gaze locks onto me again, and I feel a pang of guilt for making my pack worry.

“Hurts,” I mumble through chattering teeth, the intensity of the pain making me fear I’ll break a tooth.

Strong hands help wrench my clothes off over my head and I let them, grateful for the help. The scent of coffee envelops me, my pack's scents all mingling together in a delicious blend that triggers another wave of pleasure to course through my core with such intensity that I curl into myself, gasping for air.

“Take her to the bathroom,” Hux barks, his voice cutting through the haze of pain with a commanding force. I’m swept up into strong arms and the sudden movement sends another groan of pain through me.

“Don’t worry, doll, I got you,” Vaughn reassures me, his voice a soothing balm against the storm raging inside me.

“Make it stop,” I beg, my voice trembling with agony. The plea is a raw, desperate cry that seems to hang in the air, unanswered.

“You’re okay, tiny,” Creed’s voice comes from somewhere behind me, but I can’t turn to look at him. Instead, I bury my face into Vaughn’s neck, seeking comfort in his warm, chocolaty scent. His beta scent grounds, soothing the intense fire roaring through me to a dull ache. The scents of the others seem to send my hormones into a frenzy, intensifying the pain and confusion.

Vaughn’s body is tense as he carries me toward the bathroom. Every jolt from his movements sends another spike of pain shooting through me, and I whimper, clutching at him desperately. The scent of coffee with a hint of sweet caramel from Creed, and the subtle undertone of sandalwood and spice from Hux fill my senses.

It’s all too much.

My mind is a whirlwind of sensation, each one pulling me in a different direction until I feel like I’m being torn apart from the inside out. I whimper, burying my nose into Vaughn's chest and inhaling his scent greedily.

“I know, doll. Just hold on a little longer,” Vaughn murmurs, his voice strained with the effort of trying to keep me calm.

But his words barely register. All I can focus on is the relentless fire raging beneath my skin, the unbearable need clawing at my insides, demanding release.

As we enter the bathroom, the cooler air hits my overheated skin, offering a brief moment of relief before it’s swallowed up by the next wave of heat. I cling to Vaughn, my nails digging into his shoulders as if holding on to him will keep me from being swept away by the storm inside me.

“Hux, get the tub ready,” Creed orders, his voice calm. It's unlike the goofy omega I've come to know. There’s a sense of urgency beneath his tone that terrifies me.

Hux’s presence, even from across the room, is enough to trigger another wave of slick to coat my thighs, my body reacting instinctively to my alpha. Vaughn’s grip tightens on me, and I can taste the subtle hint of frustration in his scent.

“Hux, leave,” Vaughn growls. “You’re only making it worse.”

I feel a pang of guilt as Creed pushes Hux toward the door, but deep down, I know he’s right.

The air hitting my sensitive skin sends shivers through me. The smallest movement, even the faintest touch of air, intensifies my pleasure. My clit throbs, pussy clamping down around nothing. I've never been more desperate for release.

I whimper as I’m drowning in a sea of sensation.

As Vaughn carries me toward the tub, I cling to him, hoping that once I’m submerged in the water the storm inside me will finally be calmed.

I’m not sure how much more I can take.

“We need to get your temperature down, tiny,” Creed says, his voice closer now. I nod weakly, my head rattling with the small movement, nausea swirling inside my belly.

“Vaughn, get her into the tub.”

Vaughn lowers us carefully into the icy water, and it feels like I’m sitting on pins and needles. I cry out in agony as the freezing water seeps into my pores. His movements are slow and deliberate, as if any sudden shift might break me or send me crashing over the edge.

To be honest, it might.

I whimper as the cold water settles around us. But even as the cold numbs some of the pain, the need for release still gnaws at me, relentless and unforgiving. I cling to Vaughn, my fingers curling into his shirt as if he’s the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice breaking. But Vaughn only shakes his head, his expression softening as he cups my face in his hands.

“Don’t apologize, doll. We’re going to take care of you, okay?,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing away the tears I didn’t even realize were falling.

I nod, too exhausted to do anything else. I can feel Creed’s hand on my shoulder, his presence a steady, grounding force beside me.

“We’ve got you, tiny,” Creed says, his voice firm. “You’re not alone. We’re here. Pass her to me,” he demands, as he climbs into the tub beside me, fully clothed.

Gently, Vaughn shifts me into Creed’s waiting arms, the water sloshing with their movements. The cold water soaks through their clothes, but neither seems to care as they focus on comforting me.

I nestle into Creed’s chest, my back to his front. His arms wrap around me protectively. A fresh wave of need courses through me and I cry out in surprise at the sudden force of it.

“M-make it s-stop,” I plead, my voice trembling, my teeth biting into my tongue as I try to speak. The taste of copper floods my mouth, but I can barely focus on it over the overwhelming need tearing through me.

Slowly, Creed’s fingers slide between my thighs, finding my overly sensitive clit with practiced ease. His touch is gentle but insistent, his fingers moving in quick, measured circles that send jolts of pleasure through my ravaged body.

"Let go tiny," Creed murmurs into my ear.

The demand has me crying out, the sound raw and desperate as the pleasure overtakes me, and I'm crashing over the edge within seconds. The world around me blurs as I’m propelled into a realm of pure sensation, stars exploding behind my eyelids as relief floods through me.

My body sags against Creed, trembling, as he rocks me back and forth, helping me ride out the last, shuddering wave of pleasure. His touch is soothing, his murmured words of comfort barely registering as I try to catch my breath.

"Sleep baby girl, I'm not going anywhere."