Chapter 33
Millie
Iwake up sore. A dull, pleasant ache that speaks of a long, intense night. They took turns on me, I remember, their hands and mouths claiming every part of me.
My throat is raw, my tits tender, but my whole body is warm, cocooned in a post-heat haze. My core feels sensitive, used in the best possible way, and there’s someone still inside me while a huge arm is wrapped around my waist, holding me close.
I turn my head slowly, my neck protesting. Liam’s face is right there, his eyes closed, his breathing even and peaceful. That means it’s Maddox inside me, his cock hardening by the second.
I rock my hips back against him, a small, experimental movement. He groans in his sleep, and his hips move in response. It’s a lazy, possessive thrust that sends a shiver through me.
“You up?” Liam says right in my ear, his voice husky with sleep.
I turn my head the other way and kiss him, a kiss that tastes of morning and him.
“Hey baby,” he murmurs against my lips, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that makes my toes curl.
“Where’s Knox?” I manage to groan out in a wrecked whisper.
“Making a call,” Liam tells me, his hand tracing idle patterns on my stomach.
And then someone’s fingers find my clit, pinching it just right. A jolt shoots through me, white-hot and blinding. And I’m gone, lost in a wave of sensation, my body no longer my own.
I don’t know how long I’ve been in this stupor. Time has lost its meaning, blurring into a hazy, fever-dream landscape of sensation. I have recollections of being fed, of water bottles pressed to my lips, of strong hands cleaning me with a warm cloth. And of being fucked. So much fucking.
Liam left for a little bit and came back, smelling of coffee and fresh air. Same as Knox. But Maddox… Maddox has been beside me or inside me since this all started. A constant, grounding presence in the storm of my heat.
Right now, he has me pinned against the wall of my bedroom, my feet barely touching the floor as he fucks me roughly. The plaster is cool against my overheated cheek. Each thrust is a powerful, possessive act that sends shockwaves through my entire body.
“You’re gorgeous,” he says, a low, rough growl against my ear before his mouth latches onto the sensitive skin of my neck.
He sucks hard, and I know he’s leaving a mark, a brand.
I moan, a wanton, shameless sound that echoes in the quiet room.
He grinds against me, the friction delicious, unbearable.
“Be my good girl and come for me,” he commands, his breath hot on my skin. “I’m hungry, and the guys just got pizza.”
The absurdity of it, the domesticity of his need mixed with the raw sexuality of his demand, is what does it. I dig my fingers into the hard muscles of his back, pulling him closer, urging him deeper.
“I love you,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.
It makes my chest ache even as my body coils tight with release. He fucks me some more, his hips snapping forward, and I shatter, a silent scream tearing from my throat as my body convulses around him.
There’s no light outside my window. What time is it?
What day is it?
It doesn’t matter.
I’m bent over the side of the bed, my knees weak, my face pressed into the sheets.
I can hear Liam and Maddox talking in low, serious tones.
Something about a delivery, about the airstrip.
I can’t hear clearly, their words muffled, distant, because Knox is behind me, his big hands spreading my ass cheeks, his mouth on my most sensitive place.
He eats me out like a man starving, his tongue a hot, relentless force.
Two fingers slide into my hole, twisting and turning, scissoring inside me, finding spots I didn’t know existed.
The conversation in the other room fades away completely, replaced by the wet, obscene sounds of his mouth on me, the frantic pounding of my own heart.
He curls his fingers just right, and I come with a shudder, a violent, full-body quake that leaves me boneless and gasping for air.
“I can’t come anymore,” I beg.
They have been fucking me for hours. One of them made me squirt. I don’t remember who.
Now, I’m lying on my side, caught between them.
Liam is in front of me, one of his legs slung over mine, holding me open.
Knox is behind me, his body a warm, solid wall.
They rock into me sideways, a lazy, unhurried rhythm that’s somehow more intense than the frantic fucking from before.
It’s a shared, rolling wave of pleasure.
Liam’s hand is on my breast, his thumb stroking my nipple, while Knox’s arm is wrapped around my waist, holding me tight, his face buried in my hair. I’m so full, so surrounded by their warmth, their scent, their strength. Every nerve ending is on fire, a constant, thrumming hum of pleasure.
I think I died and went to heaven.
I wake up thinking I’m in hell.
My body is one giant, throbbing ache. My head pounds and my mouth tastes like cotton and something vaguely metallic. Every muscle screams in protest as I try to shift, a symphony of soreness I’ve never known before.
I’m in bed. The sheets are too crisp, the mattress too firm. And I’m wearing a T-shirt, a soft, worn thing that’s miles too big for me. It smells of pine and clean, cold air. Knox’s.
The memories come back in fragments, a collage of skin and teeth and desperate, pleading whispers. Memories of being held, of being filled, of three sets of hands on my body, three voices murmuring my name. The heat. It was a beast, and it devoured me whole.
I can hear voices downstairs, muffled and indistinct. The low rumble of male laughter, the sharp, electronic chirps of a video game. Normal sounds. Everyday sounds. They feel alien.
I push myself up, my body protesting with every movement. I stumble into the bathroom, my legs unsteady. I pee for what feels like an eternity, the relief immediate and overwhelming. Then I look in the mirror.
The woman staring back at me is a stranger. Her face is pale, her eyes shadowed with dark circles that look like bruises. Her lips are chapped and swollen. And her neck, her chest, her breasts… they’re a roadmap of the last few days.
A constellation of purple and blue bruises, small, red bite marks, a faint, silvery scar from where Knox’s teeth sealed his claim. I look wrecked. I look claimed. But my eyes… they look clear. The feverish, desperate glint is gone. In its place is a quiet, exhausted peace.
I splash cold water on my face, the shock of it a welcome jolt. I take a deep breath, my hand resting on my chest, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of my own heart. I can do this. I can go downstairs.
The smell hits me first. Not just the lingering scent of sex and pack, but something else. Pizza. Coffee. And that clean, piney scent that’s Knox, mixed with the warm, woodsy smell of Maddox and the familiar, comforting aroma of Liam. It’s the scent of home.
They’re in the living room. Liam and Maddox are on the couch, their backs to me, controllers in their hands, their eyes glued to the TV screen where race cars are careening around a track. Knox is in the armchair, a half-eaten slice of pizza in his hand, a look of intense concentration on his face.
Liam is the first to notice me. He drops his controller onto the cushion without a second thought and is on his feet in an instant.
“Millie,” he says, his voice soft, careful. “How are you doing?”
“Fine,” I croak. It’s a lie, but it’s the only one I have.
He nods, as if he understands. He leads me to the sofa, gesturing for me to take his spot. I sink into the cushions, my body grateful for the support. The video game is forgotten.
Knox stands up, walking into the kitchen. “I made you a steak and fries,” he says. “You need to get your energy back.”
Liam points to the coffee table, where a mug sits steaming. “Hot chocolate,” he says. “Extra marshmallows.”
Maddox is already moving, grabbing the wool blanket from the back of the armchair and draping it over my legs, tucking it around me with a gentle, practiced care.
They’re all looking at me, their expressions full of concern, relief, and something else. Something soft and tender. It’s too much. The steak, the hot chocolate, the blanket… it’s not the food or the warmth. It’s the care behind it. The overwhelming, unconditional love.
“What day is it?” I ask, barely a whisper.
They exchange a look. “It’s Thursday,” Liam says gently. “It’s been six days since your heat started.”
Six days. A whole week lost to a fever dream. Six days of them taking care of me, of putting their lives on hold, of dealing with my… mess.
And that’s when the tears start. They aren’t sad tears. They’re hot and messy and full of a relief so profound it feels like grief. They stream down my face, fat, silent drops that land on the blanket pooled in my lap.
Maddox and Knox look at Liam, their expressions confused. “Why is she crying?” Knox asks, his brow furrowed. “I thought you said her heat was over.”
“I thought she was alright,” Liam says, his own face a mask of panic. He kneels in front of me, his hand reaching out to touch mine, gentle and hesitant. “What’s wrong? Millie, talk to me. How can we fix it?”
I shake my head, unable to speak, the words caught in my throat. I take a shaky breath, trying to compose myself enough to form a coherent sentence. “I’m just…” I start, my voice thick with emotion. “I’m so in love with you. All of you.”
Their expressions soften, a collective sigh of understanding.
“And I know it’s fast,” I continue, the words rushing out in a torrent. “I know it’s complicated and messy and probably a million kinds of wrong, but I can’t imagine having gone through all of that alone. I would have been so scared. I was so scared.”
“You never have to be scared again,” Knox says, his hand covering mine, his grip firm. “You never have to be alone.”
“We love you too, Millie,” Maddox says, his voice a low, reassuring rumble. “We’ve got you.”
“Thanks,” I whisper, the word inadequate, but it’s all I have.
I watch them, the three of them, and I see it. The easy way Liam bumps Knox’s shoulder with his fist. The small, private smile Maddox gives him. The camaraderie that was born in the fire of my heat, in the shared responsibility of caring for me.
They’re not just three guys who happen to want the same woman anymore. They’re a pack.
And I’m their center.