Chapter 32
Knox
My hand is a tight, hot fist around my cock, the friction a necessary, punishing relief as I watch them. The air in the room is a living thing—humid, scented with a storm of vanilla, lavender, pine, and the sharp, clean tang of my own arousal.
It’s a potent cocktail, a scent that screams pack, and home, and a rightness that settles deep in my bones, a feeling I’ve been starved for without ever knowing its name.
Liam kneels at the foot of the bed, his movements sure, radiating confidence. He’s a commander in his element, but this is a war of pleasure, not pain. He lifts Millie’s legs, draping them over his shoulders, opening her to us like a sacred offering.
Maddox is on one side, his hand wrapped around her ankle, his thumb stroking circles against her skin. I’m on the other, my grip firm on her other leg, holding her open, presenting her to Liam. We are a three-pointed star, and Millie is our brilliant, burning center.
He doesn’t wait, doesn’t tease. He lowers his head, his mouth finding her slick, swollen folds.
She cries out, sharp and broken, her back arching off the bed, her body a bow pulled taut with pure sensation.
Her hands fly out, one fisting in Maddox’s hair, the other digging into my shoulder.
Her nails anchor her to us as Liam works her with his tongue.
I watch, mesmerized, my own strokes becoming more frantic, more demanding.
I watch the way Liam’s jaw works, the way his tongue delves, the way he sucks on her clit, pulling whimpers from her throat.
I watch the way her breasts rise and fall with each ragged breath, the way her skin flushes a beautiful, feverish pink.
I watch the way Maddox looks at her, his expression filled with awe and raw, unadulterated love. He says something to her, words I can’t hear over the frantic pounding of my own heart, but she responds with a whimper, turning to press her face against his thigh.
This is more than just sex. This is a ritual. A claiming. A healing. We are mending the broken parts of each other, stitching our wounds together with threads of sweat and slick and shared pleasure.
Liam brings her to the edge. He knows her.
He knows every curve, every sensitive spot, every secret way to make her fall apart.
And when she comes, it’s with a scream that tears at the air, a powerful wave that ripples through her, her inner muscles clenching around nothing.
Her release is a trigger. The scent in the room intensifies, a fresh, sweet wave of Omega heat.
But it’s not enough. The heat is a relentless beast, and one orgasm is just a temporary reprieve.
Liam pulls back, his face glistening with her slick. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes dark with satisfaction and a lingering, predatory hunger. “Your turn,” he says, a low growl directed at Maddox.
Maddox doesn’t hesitate. He shifts, leaning over her, his mouth replacing Liam’s.
He explores her with his tongue, his movements less urgent, more reverent.
He’s mapping her, learning her taste. I watch as he slides two fingers inside her, curling them, finding that spot that makes her gasp and arch her back.
My grip on her leg tightens, my own strokes faltering as I watch them. This is a side of Maddox I’ve only seen glimpses of, a tenderness that’s at odds with his usual quiet intensity. He’s whispering to her again, his lips brushing against her folds, and her response is a continuous, breathy moan.
I can feel her getting close again, her body tensing, her thighs trembling.
I reach out with my free hand, my fingers finding her clit, rubbing in tight circles as Maddox continues to thrust his fingers into her.
The dual stimulation is too much for her.
She comes again, this time with a long, drawn-out cry, her body shuddering, a fresh gush of slick coating Maddox’s hand.
“Again,” Liam commands in a low, authoritative rumble.
Now it’s my turn. I’ve been watching, learning. I know what she likes. I know how she responds to intensity, to tenderness, to the combination of both. I release her leg and move to kneel beside her head. Maddox continues to stroke her, his fingers moving in a slow, soothing rhythm inside her.
I lean down, my mouth finding hers, kissing her deeply, tasting her. She responds with her tongue tangling with mine. At the same time, I bring my hand to her breast, my thumb and forefinger rolling her nipple, pinching it just hard enough to make her gasp.
I break the kiss, my mouth trailing down her neck, my teeth scraping against her skin.
I can feel the frantic beat of her pulse against my lips.
I continue my downward journey, my mouth closing over her other breast, my tongue swirling around her pebbled nipple.
I suck hard, and she cries out, her back arching off the bed.
I can feel her body coiling, tightening, preparing for another release. I move back up, my mouth finding her ear. “Come for us, Millie,” I command. “One more time. For us.”
That’s all it takes. Her body convulses, a powerful, explosive orgasm that rips through her with the force of a storm. She screams our names, a hoarse, broken sound that’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.
We give her a moment to catch her breath, her body limp and pliant between us. The scent of her release is a sweet, musky aroma that makes my head spin.
“Water,” Liam says, his tone all business. “And snacks. She needs to nest.”
The word strikes a chord deep within me. Nesting. A primal, instinctual need to create a safe, comfortable den. I stand up, my cock a hard, demanding ache that I pointedly ignore. This isn’t about me right now. This is about her. About providing for her. Protecting her.
I walk to the kitchen, my movements stiff, my body still humming with unspent energy.
I grab another bottle of water from the fridge and a bag of crackers from the pantry.
Back in the room, I also find the lube in her nightstand, tucked between a well-worn romance novel and a half-empty box of condoms.
Liam is arranging the pillows, plumping them up, creating a soft, comfortable nest for her in the center of the bed. Maddox is stroking her hair, his lips pressed against her temple, murmuring words of comfort.
I hand her the water bottle, and she drinks greedily, her throat working, the water spilling from the corners of her mouth and tracing paths down her chest. I watch, fascinated, as a drop of water slides down her collarbone, pooling in the hollow of her throat. I want to lean in and lick it off.
“Okay,” Liam says, taking charge once again. “Maddox, lie down.”
Maddox complies without question, lying on his back, his cock a hard, thick line against his stomach.
Liam helps Millie to straddle him, his hands on her hips, guiding her down onto Maddox’s length.
She sinks onto him with a long, low moan, her head falling back, her body a perfect, beautiful arch of surrender.
I move behind her, my body fitting against hers, my chest to her back. I can feel the heat of her skin, the tremor that runs through her body as I press my cock against her ass. I pour some lube onto my fingers.
“Relax, baby,” I whisper in her ear, my lips brushing against the sensitive shell. “Let us take care of you.”
I press one finger against her tight, puckered hole, and she tenses for a moment before forcing herself to relax, a soft sigh escaping her lips.
I work my finger into her, then another, stretching her, preparing her for me.
The feeling of her, tight and hot and welcoming, is almost enough to make me come right then and there.
“Please,” she begs, her voice a breathy whine. “Knox, please. I need you. I need all of you.”
When she’s ready, I position myself at her entrance, the head of my cock pressing against her. I can feel Maddox inside her through the thin wall of her flesh. The sensation is incredible, a tight, intense pressure that borders on pain.
I push into her slowly, carefully, giving her time to adjust to the overwhelming fullness. She cries out, a sharp, broken sound, her body arching back against me.
“Easy,” Liam says, his hand on her lower back. “Breathe, Millie. Just breathe.”
She takes a deep, shuddering breath, and I push in deeper, until I’m fully seated inside her. The feeling is… indescribable. A tight, hot, perfect pressure that steals the air from my lungs and makes my head spin. We are one being, a single, pulsing entity, joined in the most intimate way possible.
I begin to move, my hips rocking, matching Maddox’s thrusts from below.
Millie is caught between us, a vessel for our shared pleasure, her body a conduit for the raw, primal energy that flows between us.
The scent in the room intensifies, an intoxicating cloud of arousal and pack and home. I can feel my knot beginning to swell.
I lean down, my mouth finding the sensitive skin where her neck meets her shoulder. I can feel the frantic beat of her pulse against my lips. I bite down, a sharp, possessive act that seals our bond.
She screams, her body convulsing around us, a powerful, explosive orgasm that rips through her with the force of a hurricane. Her climax triggers my own, and I come with a hoarse shout, my knot swelling, locking us together in a final, perfect union.
We are a pack. We are one. And we are home.