Chapter 37 Knottedly Ever After… #3
I’m so far gone I’m shaking. I fumble with his waistband, cursing the nest-wrinkled joggers, and he helps, peeling them off one-handed, never letting go of me.
Rowan settles between my thighs, pressing the thick head of his cock to my entrance and holding, just for a breath, just to look me in the eye. “Tell me if you need slower.”
“I want all of you,” I say, voice shredded. “Don’t hold back.”
He smiles—wolfish, gentle, a little broken at the edges.
“Never could with you.”
He pushes inside, slow at first, but my body opens easy, greedy for every inch. I arch up, all but sobbing as he bottoms out.
Luca and Levi come next.
I sense them before I see them—twin thunderclouds, dark and gold, crowding the nest with their scents: honey butter, gingerbread, cinnamon and coffee. The air goes electric, charged with Heat and promise and so much want I feel like I’ll combust.
Levi comes up behind me, feral glint in his green eyes, hands already mapping my back and thighs. Luca moves to the side, knees braced on the blankets, his cock heavy and hard and leaking—he strokes himself, slow and measured, while his gaze never leaves my face.
It should feel like too much, but it doesn’t. Not with them.
I’m surrounded. Pinned. Wanted.
Rowan starts moving, a deep, controlled rhythm that makes me keen into his mouth. Levi’s hands grab my hips, tilting me so every thrust is sharper, deeper. He lines himself up behind me, cock rocking against my rim, and for a second I freeze—Heat makes me wild, but this is another level.
Levi kisses the curve of my shoulder, voice rough with want but heartbreakingly careful.
“You want it, sunshine? You want both?”
“Want everything,” I choke out. “Want all of you. Please, Levi—”
He groans, the twins vibrating in weird, perfect harmony as he slicks his cock with lube —where did he even get that? Has it been hiding in the nest? None of my business, I guess?.
He presses in, slow. Insanely careful. Just the tip at first, stretching me, and I gasp, burying my face in Rowan’s shoulder. Rowan soothes me with sweet words, gentling thrusts, and thumb rubbing circles at my hip to ground me.
Levi holds, lets me adjust, and asks again if I’m good.
“More,” I gasp. “Can take it. Promise.”
He pushes deeper, and the stretch is sharp, then perfect. I’m full, split open, packed with both Alphas. My body kind of freaks out—then melts. It’s exactly what I wanted.
Luca takes his cue. He kneels at my side, guides my mouth to his cock, and instantly I’m greedy for him, lips parting to taste the sharp snap of his pre-come, tongue tracing the vein that pulls a curse from his throat.
There’s a pattern to it: Rowan fills my body, front to back; Levi presses in behind, matching Rowan’s tempo. Every time Rowan thrusts, Levi matches, and I’m caught between, friction doubled, pleasure multiplied.
Luca’s gentle at first, letting me set the pace on his cock, but I want it hard. I close my lips around him, take him deeper, loving the sound he makes—a hiss, a command, a plea, all wrapped in dry wit.
They don’t fight over me. They just… fill the need. Like a pack that’s always known I was meant for the center, for being surrounded and ruined and put back together again.
Sensation shreds my brain. Rowan’s hands grip my ass, steadying every drive.
Levi’s chest is a furnace against my back, his mouth at my neck, every exhale muttered filth and adoration.
Luca’s cock slides between my lips, and with every shallow thrust, he tangles fingers in my hair, pulling—just enough.
There’s no shame, no uncertainty, just three Alphas in perfect, eager concert.
I don’t have to direct them; they watch me for every twitch, every whimper, and adjust so I never feel pain—only the good kind of too much.
Then Rowan starts to knot.
That’s the moment everything goes feral: the base of him swells, stretching my entrance, and the sensation is so intense my vision goes white.
Rowan holds still, letting the knot catch. He buries his face in my neck, groaning like the world’s ending.
“Let go, Hazel. Let us keep you. Let us fill you.”
I do. I come with a scream, body clenching so tight the twins lose it too. Levi’s knot swells at my rim, hot and pulsing. Luca groans as he comes, salty and sharp on my tongue, hand gentle as he strokes my hair.
We all shudder together, caught in a web of want and relief, every limb tangled, every scent spiking into a cloud of autumn smoke and sugar.
The knots hold, locking me in place. I’m stuck, helpless, the best kind of trapped.
But even as the aftershocks fade, I want more.
It’s greedy, Heat is greedy, and my body’s already throbbing, desperate for another round.
The knots eventually loosen. Rowan withdraws, slow and careful, and I sag forward, ruined, but it’s not enough, I want—
Levi reads my mind.
“Again, sunshine?”
“Please,” is all I manage, voice hoarse.
He grins, wipes sweat from my cheek, and claims me from the front. This time, Luca’s at my back, thick cock nudging into me, slow and determined.
The rhythm is different—slower, almost worshipful. They hold me, praise me, call me every sweet name until I’m crying —embarrassing— and begging to be filled again.
Levi knots first, locking inside and emptying himself with a long, shuddery moan. Then Luca takes his place, gentlest of them all, careful with my worn-out body. When he knots me, every muscle goes loose, and I melt into the pile, overwhelmed and more loved than anything on the planet.
The air is thick with scent—honey and ginger, dark coffee and burnt sugar, all wrapped around me like a second skin. Their hands stroke every inch, soothing, petting, treating me like something rare and precious.
Am I crying again? Maybe. I can’t tell.
All I know is belonging—how it feels to be wanted, needed, worshipped.
I lose time, drifting on sensation. Every so often, another Alpha claims me, but it’s less about frenzy and more about keeping me anchored, safe, and adored.
Eventually, even Heat can’t keep up, and my body stops thrumming, finally sated. I sag into the nest, absolute pudding, three Alphas and a thousand blankets keeping me from slipping into the void.
For a second, the world is silent except for our breathing. In. Out. Pack rhythm.
I’m still not sure it’s real, but I hope it never ends.
When I come back to myself, it’s like waking up in the middle of a movie marathon I never want to leave.
The nest is a disaster zone: blankets in heaps, every pillow put to use, and the heady patchwork scent of pack sweat, Heat, and whatever was left of that fancy honeycomb. We’re all naked, sprawled over each other like the world’s least intimidating rugby team.
My hips are sore in a way that’s one part soreness, two parts delicious glow.
Muffin, traitor that she is, is curled at my feet, acting like she’s always belonged here. She shoots me a look—judgy, satisfied, but not moving.
Queen Muffin has declared this cuddle pile acceptable.
I’m barely awake. My body’s soft as pudding; my brain’s a sugar cookie left in the sun. All I can manage is a muffled, happy sound—somewhere between a moan and a giggle.
“This is…” I stretch, legs tangling in someone’s calf —Rowan’s, by the size— “totally not like the books.”
Levi grunts, face mashed into my shoulder.
“It’s so much more… knottier,” I sigh, and yes, I say it, because who’s going to stop me, I’ve been literally triple-knotted tonight.
Luca groans.
“Hazel.” Like he’s disappointed in me, but there’s a smile in his voice.
Levi buries his face further.
“Knottier? Really?”
“Best I’ve got, I’m a walking hormone scramble right now.”
Rowan, from the far end, starts laughing—the deep, chesty kind you hear in late-night diners after the world’s best prank.
“If someone wrote our story, what would they even call it?”
He’s asking for trouble.
I twist, grinning, and the first thing out of my mouth is.
“Knot Baked Out for This.”
There’s a beat of silence, then actual groaning from the twins.
“Hazel, no,” Levi wheezes, but he’s giggling, too. “That’s the worst.”
“It’s exactly right,” Rowan argues, not even hiding his pride. “She’s got the pun market cornered.”
Luca props himself on one elbow. “She’s totally baked out for us. If you need evidence, look at the current cuddle pile. That’s the result.”
I try to muster a comeback, but I’m distracted by the way his hand curls lazy on my thigh, thumb tracing idle designs. There’s nothing sexual in it this time.
Just… belonging.
I yawn, my head hitting the pillow with zero coordination.
“I’m keeping it. Knot Baked Out for This: The Quest for Three Alphas and a Cozy Omega.”
“Is it a trilogy?” Levi mumbles, already half-asleep.
“At least,” Rowan says. “Spinoffs, sequels, full snack product lines.”
We’re all breathless with it, the kind of laughter that puts you back together instead of taking you apart.
Somewhere in the background, the rain trickles off. The barn’s lit by the last few candles, and the only thing louder than the crinkle of fading Heat is the mass exhale as my pack settles.
Muffin stretches, purring, choosing to sleep at Rowan’s feet — traitor.
“Knot Baked Out For This,” Luca repeats softly, and the words echo through the haze of afterglow like the punchline to a running joke only we would ever get.
He says it with a lazy reverence, like the title of a story he intends to write on my skin, one chapter at a time.
“Yet our Hazel was most certainly baked for us.”
There’s a chorus of agreement, but not in words—Levi’s hand tightens around my waist in a possessive, buttery squeeze; Rowan’s arm crosses the tangle of our bodies to rest heavy and protective over my hips; even Muffin gives a rumbling, approving sigh at the foot of the nest, kneading her claws into the top blanket like she’s staking her claim as the footnote in this Omega’s saga.
The air is so dense with the scent of us—sugar, salt, cedar, honeycomb, the faint whiff of burnt pumpkin, and the ozone snap of autumn rain—that if I could bottle it, I would wear it for the rest of my life.
Maybe I will.
I float in the cocoon of my pack, boneless and sated, and for the first time ever, I don’t mind the ache in my thighs or the warm stickiness clinging to my skin and curling in my hair.
I just want to hold still and exist—nothing to fix, nothing to prove, nothing to run from. I think of all the times I daydreamed about a night like this.
The reality is so much messier, knottier, and infinitely better than any story I could have baked up.
My last waking thought teases my mind.
This is my forever pack.
I sigh, smile, and let myself drift.
Happily, knottedly ever after.