Chapter 18
18
LILY
M y vision swims, the edges blurry and distorted like I’m underwater. The door to the room opens, flooding the space with light that hurts my eyes. Three tall silhouettes appear. For a moment, I wonder if I’m hallucinating—if the fever burning through my veins has finally pushed me over the edge into delirium.
I blink slowly, struggling to focus. My mind feels wrapped in cotton, thoughts sticky and disconnected. I clutch Hunter’s discarded Henley tighter to my chest, burying my nose in the fabric. The scent grounds me and provides comfort that eases the burning under my skin. I’ve been huddled in this laundry nest for hours to ease the ache, fully aware of what I’m doing, but it’s as though something in my mind clicked and I just needed to be surrounded by the Alphas scents. I couldn’t stop if I tried.
I remember the compulsion that drove me here—the overwhelming need to surround myself with the three Alphas’ scents and to create a safe space.
The air changes as they enter the room, becoming thick and heavy with their combined scents. Something deep within me stirs in response, and pain intensifies between my thighs. I press Hunter’s shirt more firmly against my face, inhaling deeply to steady myself.
James approaches first, slowly. He kneels beside my nest, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body.
“How are you feeling, Lily?” he asks gently.
Hunter hovers behind him, his expression unreadable, but tension radiates from his rigid jaw. Archer circles to my other side, studying me, head tilted slightly.
I struggle to form words, my throat bone dry. “I feel... hot. Strange.” My voice sounds foreign to my own ears.
Their scents make my head spin.
“Why do you all smell so... yummy?” I whisper, unable to stop myself.
James exchanges a significant look with the others before turning back to me. “Hey, baker girl, we think you might be starting to go into heat.”
I stare at him, the words not making sense at first. Then I laugh.
“Don’t be crazy. I don’t react to Alphas... everyone knows that. I’m on suppressants. I have them on me and have been taking them. I’m regular as clockwork. This isn’t?—”
“I’m going to dispute that theory,” Archer interrupts, gesturing to the elaborate nest I’ve constructed. “People who don’t react to Alphas don’t typically barricade themselves in laundry rooms with stolen clothes.”
Something hungry and primal wraps around me, and I shiver despite the fever raging through me. I glance down, knowing I’ve wrapped their clothes around me like armor and pressing another shirt between my thighs for relief. It’s the only way to stop the ache.
But is that heat?
“So, you think it’s really happening because...” I gasp, hugging Hunter’s shirt tighter. “I’m stuck here with you three during a blizzard, and if I’m going into heat...” I can’t finish the thought, the implications too overwhelming.
Hunter steps forward, crouching low in front of me, near James. “We’ll look after you.”
His words carry a weight beyond simple care-taking. The promise in them makes me shiver despite my fever, my body responding with a rush of heat between my legs.
“I brought the couch cushions in here,” I blurt out, gesturing to the far corner of the laundry room. “And the ottoman from the living room. I don’t know why. I just... needed them.”
James nods, a knowing look in his eyes. “You were building a proper nest. It’s instinct.”
“I’m not nesting,” I insist, even as I smooth the edge of a sheet I’ve carefully arranged. “I just needed... something.”
I watch through half-lidded eyes as they arrange their offerings around me—plates of food, bottles of water, more blankets and pillows. My focus keeps slipping, drawn repeatedly to the movement of their hands, the flex of muscles under clothing, and the fullness of their lips as they speak.
Archer gestures to my arrangement. “You’ve done well, but I can build you a better one. Something more comfortable, more secure.”
I shake my head adamantly, a surge of possessiveness washing over me. “No, this is fine. I’m just fine here.” I run my hand over the carefully constructed layers. “I’m not nesting. You’re nesting.”
As soon as the childish retort leaves my lips, I catch myself. What am I saying? I lift Hunter’s shirt to my nose again, inhaling deeply. The deep, masculine scent sends a wave of calm through me, momentarily dampening the fire under my skin.
“God, I’m losing my mind,” I mutter. “It’s like I’m hallucinating. And I have this pain deep in my stomach.” My hands press against my abdomen, where a deep, hollow ache has been building for hours. “It’s not like cramps; it’s like... emptiness.” I look up at them, vulnerability washing over me as I admit, “These scents are what keep me calm.” I gesture to the clothes surrounding me.
“Alpha smells,” James nods knowingly. “Your Omega side is responding.”
Sure, biologically, I’m an Omega, but I’ve never experienced the stereotypical reactions, the overwhelming responses to Alpha pheromones that are supposed to define the dynamic.
Until now.
The change is instant, like a storm breaking over me — wild and all-consuming. My skin prickles, heat blooming beneath my collar. My breath falters, heart racing too fast for my chest to contain. It's not just instinct; it’s them. Their scent of strength, of something untamed, coils around me like smoke, weakening me.
Panic stirs in my chest. I can’t let this control me. I can’t?—
“You okay?” Hunter’s voice breaks through the haze, low and steady. Concern sharpens his tone. “You’re breathing kinda fast.”
“I’m fine,” I lie.
“You sure?” His gaze sharpens, his brows knitting. “I can leave if you?—”
“No!” The word escapes too fast, too desperately. My face burns. “I mean… I’m good. Really.”
Hunter watches me a beat longer, then exhales through his nose like he's debating whether to push. Instead, he leans closer, his fingers reaching for me — slow enough to give me time to pull away.
His hand brushes my brow, gentle and careful. His fingers are rough, calloused — strong enough to break me, yet somehow impossibly tender. His touch is electric, somehow both cooling and burning simultaneously.
Without thinking, I capture his hand before he can withdraw, bringing it to my nose and inhaling deeply. My eyes flutter closed at the concentrated scent of him — earth, pine, and something uniquely male.
It’s grounding and intoxicating all at once. My pulse skips, and for the first time since I woke up this morning… I don’t feel like I’m drowning.
A sound escapes me, half sigh, half moan. My tongue darts out, tasting the salt of his skin before I can stop myself. The flavor explodes across my taste buds, and I moan again, louder this time.
“Oh God, I’m in so much trouble, aren’t I?” I whisper, not really asking.
I curve toward Hunter instinctively, making soft sounds I’ve never heard from my own throat before. The ache grows, a throbbing emptiness that demands to be filled.
“Join me, please?” The words spill out unbidden, needy and raw.
“You can’t say no, Hunter,” Archer’s words cut through my haze, an edge to his tone.
Hunter’s eyes darken. “Have no intention to.”
James stares at me with a darkness in his gaze, and part of me toys with the notion of dragging all three with me in here.
Hunter slides into the nest behind me, careful not to disturb my careful arrangement, distracting my thoughts. His chest presses against my back, arms encircling me, and the relief is immediate and overwhelming. I melt against him, sighing as some of the tension leaves my body.
“That feels right,” I murmur. “The ache is... less.”
My body fits against his perfectly, as if designed to complement him. The hard planes of his chest and stomach mold against my back, his thighs supporting mine. His heartbeat thumps against me, strong and steady, slightly faster than normal.
Then there’s his arousal, hard against my rear, and instead of being alarmed, I find myself shifting subtly against it, seeking more contact. A low growl rumbles from his throat, vibrating through me.
“Sorry,” I whisper, not sorry at all. “I can’t seem to... control myself.”
James and Archer just stare at us.
“We’ll leave you for now,” Archer says. “Let you settle in.”
James doesn’t move at first, then nods. “We’ll prepare more comfortable nest arrangements. For all of us.”
A flare of arousal washes over me at the thought of all three of them surrounding me, their scents mingling with mine.
Hunter’s chest rumbles against my back. “Don’t take too long.”
James smirks. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Try not to start without us,” Archer adds, gathering blankets.
I study them through my haze, understanding dawning about what’s coming. What we’re all hurtling toward, inevitable as gravity.
As they turn to leave, a spike of panic shoots through me. “James,” I call out.
He turns back, eyebrow raised in question.
“Soon, I need your tongue again,” I blurt out, the filter between my brain and mouth completely vanishing.
The room goes still. Hunter stiffens behind me, and Archer’s head whips around so fast, I’m surprised he doesn’t hurt himself.
“Again?” Archer repeats, his gaze darting between James and me.
James merely grins, a slow, satisfied expression spreading across his face. “Soon, baker girl. When you’re ready for all of us.”
“What the fuck happened last night?” Hunter demands, his arm tightening around my waist.
James shrugs, not bothering to hide his smugness. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”
The memory of the kitchen counter, of James on his knees before me, of his mouth working between my thighs, flashes vividly through my mind. My body responds instantly, and a rush of wetness makes me squirm against Hunter.
“You bastard,” Hunter mutters, but there’s something besides anger in his voice—a dark heat that matches the one building inside me.
“Later,” Archer says firmly, pushing James toward the door. “We’ve got work to do.”
They leave, closing the door behind them, and suddenly, it’s just Hunter and me in the nest I’ve built. His lips press against my neck, warm and surprisingly gentle.
“You are so beautiful like this,” he murmurs. “Wild and unguarded.”
I laugh weakly. “I feel like a mess. I can’t think straight unless I’m near you or your scent.” My fingers trace aimless patterns on his arm. “I barely slept last night, but once I woke, I was... overwhelmed. This need to be surrounded by all three of your things. Your smells.” Panic rises. “Please don’t leave me.”
His arms tighten. “I won’t.”
Something about the safety of his embrace, the security of being held so firmly, breaks open a vulnerability I usually keep tightly contained.
“Growing up, I had this fear of being left... after my mother died,” I confess quietly. “My dad did his best, but he was devastated. Sometimes, I felt invisible.” I turn slightly to see his face. “Then no Alpha would react to me. Like I was truly invisible. They might date me, but I had no effect on them. None.” The memory of rejection burns almost as hot as the fever in my veins. “One guy told me I might as well be a beta for all the reaction I got from him. Another suggested I see a doctor because, clearly, something was wrong with my pheromones.”
I curl tighter into myself, the old hurt still raw despite the years. “I eventually stopped trying. Decided maybe they were right—something in me was broken.”
Hunter’s hand strokes my arm soothingly. “Maybe it wasn’t the time,” he suggests. “Or maybe they weren’t the right men. Because the moment you walked in, you blew us all away. Your scent, your presence.” A confession rumbles from his chest. “Now, we’re obsessed.”
I feel the truth of it in the tension of his body, the careful way he holds me—restraining himself even as he provides comfort.
“But no rush,” he adds, his tone shifting to reassuring. “We’ll take it easy. Ready when you are.”
I stiffen slightly at the implication. “Ready for rutting, right? Knotting me?”
The crude words hang between us.
Hunter’s breath hitches. “Does it scare you?”
I consider lying, then decide against it. What’s the point of pretense now when I’m literally nesting in his clothing?
“Fuck, yeah,” I admit. “What if I can’t get enough during the heat?”
His chuckle vibrates through me. “That’s not a problem, trust me.”
His hand spans my waist, large and warm. “Not between the three of us... if that’s what you want. All of us.”
“Yes,” I say, almost too quickly. Then I amend, “Yes, please.”
The words taste foreign on my tongue, but once they’re out, there’s no taking them back. Heat rushes to my face, my skin burning as if I’ve just stripped myself bare.
Three.
I’ve gone from believing something was wrong with me — from wondering why my Omega side never reacted the way it was supposed to, why no Alpha ever stirred more than fleeting interest — to suddenly feeling everything all at once. And not for one Alpha... but three. The thought leaves me breathless and a wild mix of nerves.
What if I can’t handle it? What if this is too much, too fast?
But underneath the anxiety, there’s a flicker of relief. Because I’ve wanted this. The hunger that’s been gnawing at me since I walked into this cabin, the tension simmering just beneath my skin. I can’t deny it anymore.
“I’ve been with a guy before but felt almost nothing,” I confess. “When we were together... it was fine but never intense. Never overwhelming. I thought maybe I just had a low sex drive.”
“It wasn’t your path.” His fingers trace my collarbone, leaving fire in their wake.
His voice dips lower, rough with promise.
“Don’t worry, cute angel. We will do things to you that you’ll never forget.”
My breath stutters. Those words should terrify me, and maybe once, they would have. But now? Now I’m burning for exactly that.
Heat pools between my legs at his promise.
“God, it’s getting worse,” I gasp, feeling a cramp roll through my abdomen. “I need… I don’t know what I need.”
That’s a lie. I know exactly what I need. I need to be fucked, claimed, taken. The thought should terrify me, but instead, it sends another wave of heat through my core.
I shift against him restlessly, my hips moving of their own accord, seeking friction against the hardness pressing into my lower back. His arm tightens around my waist, stilling my movements.
“Easy,” he murmurs, but I can hear the strain in his words. “Let’s not rush.”
“I can’t help it,” I whimper, my body betraying me with every passing moment. “It’s like there’s this... beast inside me. And it’s getting stronger.”
Behind us, the storm continues to rage, snow piling against the small window high on the laundry room wall. We’re trapped here, all of us, for who knows how long.
Hunter’s breathing changes, growing deeper and more controlled. His scent sharpens, too, becoming more potent, and I realize he’s fighting his own battle against ravaging me this very moment.
I turn to face him, needing to see his expression.
His eyes have changed, pupils wide, with only a thin ring of gold around the edges. The warm amber has darkened to something more primal, more dangerous.
I reach up to touch his face, drawn to the intensity I see there.
He captures my wrist and brings it to his mouth, his teeth grazing my pulse point. The sensation shoots straight to my pussy, covered in tingles, making me gasp.
“I can easily forget myself around you,” he confesses. “The kind that makes me want to kill any strangers for looking at you.”
The darkness in his eyes promises both pleasure and pain, and I should be scared by the possession I see there. Instead, I find myself leaning into it, longing for it.
“Maybe I want you to forget yourself,” I challenge, my own tone barely recognizable—husky, demanding.
His grip tightens on my wrist, his stare darkening.
“I’m so tired of being careful,” I whisper. “Of being controlled. Of feeling nothing.” I press closer to him, my free hand sliding up his chest to curl around the back of his neck. “Make me feel something, Hunter. Make me forget everything but this.”
His control snaps with an almost audible sound. His mouth crashes down on mine, hard and demanding, nothing like the gentle kiss we shared during the game. This is possession, claiming, devouring. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, and I open to him willingly, eagerly.
The taste of him is intoxicating, amplifying the fever in my blood. My body responds with a rush of heat and wetness between my thighs. I moan into his mouth, pressing closer, needing more contact, more friction, more of everything.
His hands are everywhere—tangling in my hair, sliding down my back, gripping my hips. He rolls us so I’m beneath him, his weight a delicious pressure pinning me to the nest I’ve created. The feeling of being surrounded by him—his scent, his heat, his strength—feeds something raw inside me.
He breaks the kiss to trail his lips down my neck, teeth biting the sensitive skin where my pulse pounds. I arch against him, offering more access, tilting my head in a gesture of submission that comes naturally, instinctively.
“Mine,” he growls against my throat, the word buzzing through my skin.
“Yes,” I gasp, the admission torn from somewhere deep and honest.
His hand slides under my tank top, calloused palm rough against the sensitive skin of my stomach. I suck in a breath as his fingers trace higher, brushing the underside of my breast.
I moan, desperate for him.
He groans, capturing my mouth again as his hand cups my breast fully, his thumb brushing across my nipple. Pleasure spirals through me, sharper and more intense than anything I’ve ever felt. Every nerve ending seems to have moved closer to the surface, every touch magnified beyond reason.
My hands fist in his shirt, tugging impatiently. “Off,” I demand. “Need to feel you.”
He pulls back just enough to yank his shirt over his head, revealing the muscles of his chest. I reach up immediately, fingers tracing the defined lines, exploring the dusting of sandy hair that narrows across his chest. He’s beautiful—all strength and burning hot, skin golden in the dim light. When my fingers reach the waistband of his jeans, he captures my wrist again.
“Slow down,” he says. “We have time.”
“It feels like we don’t,” I confess. “Like I’ll burn alive if you don’t touch me. All of me.”
The need is overwhelming, a physical ache that grows with each passing minute. My hips shift restlessly, seeking friction, release.
Hunter’s eyes darken further. “It might be more comfortable for you if I carry you to my bedroom.”
I can’t articulate it, not really. It’s the rawness of this moment, the unbridled need that has stripped away all pretense. I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to dilute it with the change of scenery in his bedroom.
“Here,” I whisper. “I… I want it to be here.”
He studies my face, his eyes searching for understanding. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across his face, a smile that’s equal parts tenderness and primal hunger.
“Here,” he repeats. “You want me right here, surrounded by laundry and the scent of detergent?”
I nod, my cheeks burning. “Yes,” I whisper. “Please.”
“As you wish,” he murmurs with a grin. “But I’m warning you, pretty angel. Once we start, there’s no going back.”
I swallow hard, the adrenaline coursing through me.
“I know,” I say. “I don’t want to go back.”
Heat radiates from his body against mine as his hands reach for the hem of my tank top, his fingers brushing against my skin. He pulls it up slowly, deliberately, his gaze never leaving mine. The cool air on my skin is a delicious contrast to the burning heat within me.
His knuckles brushing against my breasts, over my tight nipples.
My body pushes toward him like I have zero control.
Then he pulls the tank top over my head, tossing it carelessly onto the pile of clothes beneath us. His eyes roam over my exposed breasts, lingering on my hard, aching nipples.
“Beautiful,” he breathes. “Absolutely beautiful.”
He reaches out, one hand cupping a breast, his mouth wrapping around the other one, sucking my nipple, his tongue flicking it. The sensation is exquisite. My hips are already rocking, my body buzzing from the arousal cascading through me.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispers against my skin.
“To be tied up,” I gasp, the word barely audible. “I want… you touching me. Everywhere. Fucking me.”
He chuckles, a growly sound, as he shifts above me. The heat of his body presses into mine, a delicious weight that has me arching instinctively. His hands skim over my skin before reaching down, rummaging through the scattered clothes beneath us. Then, fabric—soft, worn cotton—slides against my wrists.
I barely have time to process before he gathers my hands, bringing the wrists above my head and binding them together with the shirt.
“I won’t tie you to anything,” he murmurs. “Not your first time with me, okay, angel?”
The endearment leaves me purring for him, batting my eyes at him. I test the hold, my fingers flexing against the makeshift restraint, and a soft, needy sound slips from my lips.
I purr, pressing my thighs together, desperate for friction, for relief.
“Then make me yours,” I whisper, my body already his to ruin.
He leans back just enough to admire his work—my wrists bound, my body flushed and trembling beneath him. A grin pulls at his lips, his gaze dragging over me like he’s savoring every inch. Not just looking—devouring.
His fingers hook into the waistband of my shorts and underwear, dragging them down slowly, as if he’s unwrapping something rare, something meant only for him.
“You are everything I need.” His voice is rough, but there’s something almost reverent beneath it, something that makes my breath hitch.
He doesn’t rush. Instead, he runs his palms over my bare thighs, spreading warmth and anticipation like a brand. His touch is slow, deliberate, mapping me with a kind of aching appreciation that has me trembling before he’s even fully touched me.
“Every inch of you, angel.” His lips brush my hip, his breath a wicked promise. “Every fucking inch is mine to taste, to worship, to claim.”
My back arches, my hands above my head flexing in their restraints as he takes his time, his mouth exploring—pressing kisses, dragging his tongue in teasing strokes, nipping just enough to cover me in goosebumps.
He settles between my thighs, his hands firm yet tender as they spread me wider. The anticipation is unbearable, my entire body strung tight, aching for more. Then, his gaze meets mine, dark and filled with something deeper than hunger. Something savage.
“You want me to take you?” he murmurs. “I want to feel you fall apart first.”
I whimper, my body thrumming, heat pooling so fiercely I think I might shatter before he even pushes inside.
“Then stop teasing,” I gasp, my head tipping back. I’m panting, my hips rocking, and I let my knees drop wider. “I need you.”
His smile is slow, knowing. “Oh, angel,” he breathes, bringing his hand to the apex of my inferno and spreading me with two fingers.
I groan. The touch, the desperation, is destroying me.
“I love how pink you are, how much you glisten.” Then he drives two fingers into me, thick, long fingers that stretch me, and I cry out. Fuck me, but that’s what I need.
My bound hands flex, fingers twitching as if they’re desperate for something—anything—to hold on to. I arch, instinctively reaching, and my fingertips brush against the cold metal edge of the washing machine behind me. I grip it, the hard surface grounding me.
Hunter isn’t gentle. I knew it the moment his hands claimed my thighs, the way he nudged me wider, his fingers pumping into me, causing that unrelenting stretch. He watches, completely focused, his grin dark and devastating as his fingers keep vanishing into me.
“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, staring at me like he’s looking at something priceless—something that belongs to him.
Pleasure coils tighter, spiraling higher, my breath coming in short, desperate gasps. I’m teetering right there—so close, so damn close.
Then he stops.
“No… don’t stop!” I cry out, my hips rocking instinctively toward him, chasing the sensation, the release I was seconds from shattering into.
But he’s already on his feet, leaving me aching, exposed, completely at his mercy.
Every line and ridge of muscles cuts like he was sculpted just for sin. My mouth goes dry. The way his abs flex, the deep V leading lower—he’s beautiful in a way that steals breath, the kind that makes you forget your own name.
His hands move to his belt, the soft clink of metal snapping me out of my haze. My pulse thunders as he pushes his jeans down, leaving nothing between us. Nothing to hide how much he wants this—wants me.
Then he’s kneeling, spreading my thighs apart further, his hands gripping my hips as though I’m something to be savored. His gaze lifts, locking onto mine, full of promise, possession, and the wicked intent of a man about to make me his.
“Now,” he breathes. “Let’s see how long you can hold on.”
My breath stutters, my body thrumming with the unbearable need he’s just denied me. Hunter kneels between my thighs like a man prepared to devour me, but his eyes tell a different story. There’s no mercy in them. Just heat, possession, the kind of brutality that promises I won’t be the same once he’s done with me.
His hands grip my hips, thumbs pressing into my skin as he drags me forward, pulling me closer until I’m right where he wants me. I’m trembling, my bound hands still clutching the back edge of the washing machine, trying to ground myself, to steady my thoughts, but it’s impossible.
Not when he’s looking at me like that.
“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” he murmurs, and the rasp of it sends shivers through me. “All spread out for me, desperate, already shaking.”
I purr. My thighs flexing, but his grip tightens, keeping me still. He’s savoring this, taking his time, watching me lose myself beneath him.
And I am.
Every nerve in my body is alive, burning, my mind a haze of pleasure and frustration. The ache between my legs is unbearable, my body so primed, so ready, I could shatter the moment he touches me again.
“Hunter...” I breathe his name, barely a sound, more a plea.
“That’s it, angel.” A slow smirk curves his lips, but there’s something dangerous in it—something that tells me he isn’t done playing with me yet. “Let me hear you.”
Then, without warning, his mouth is on me.
My back arches, fingers clenching around the washing machine’s edge as sensation slams into me. His tongue moves slowly, teasing, tasting, driving me higher and higher until I’m shaking apart.
I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but feel.
My thighs tremble as the coil inside me winds so tight, I know I’m seconds from falling over the edge. I let out a gasping moan, my body tensing, ready to explode?—
Then, he pulls away.
I nearly sob at the loss, my hips jerking toward him, desperate for more, for anything to push me past the breaking point.
Hunter just watches me, his lips glistening, his smirk all dark satisfaction. “Not yet,” he commands. “I want you completely undone when I finally take you.”
I’m a trembling mess beneath him. “Please,” I whisper, pride be damned.
His gaze darkens, and something shifts in him, something dangerous and unrelenting.
“Say it again,” he growls.
I swallow hard, my pulse a frantic, stuttering beat. I’ve never felt this raw, this stripped bare, this completely at someone’s mercy.
“Please, Hunter,” I whisper again, my body burning. “I need you.”
His breath shudders out, as if he’s barely holding himself back. Then, in one fluid motion, he rises above me, positioning himself between my thighs, the heat of his cock pressing against my aching entrance.
He reaches up, unties my hands with a slow, careful tug, then brings my wrists down, pinning them beside my head. His fingers lace with mine, his grip firm, possessive.
His mouth brushes against my ear.
“Then hold on tight, angel, because I’m about to give you everything you’ve been begging for.”
And then—he’s inside me.
Fast, harsh, and… oh God, he’s enormous. I cry out.
I can’t do anything but arch beneath him. Hunter doesn’t just take—he stakes his claim. And I feel it in every slow, deliberate inch as he buries himself inside me.
A groan rumbles through his chest, his forehead pressing to mine, his grip on my wrists tightening.
“Finally,” he growls. “I’ve been waiting to feel you like this… wrapped around me, my cock buried inside this little pussy.”
A shudder rolls through me, and I whimper, my body pulsing around him.
“Shh, angel,” he soothes, rocking into me with slow, devastating thrusts. “You think I’m letting you go now?” He chuckles, dark and low, his lips brushing the edge of my ear. “Not a fucking chance.”
His grip shifts, releasing my hands. His fingers trace down my arms, over my ribs, down to my hips, where he then holds me steady as he thrusts deeper, dragging pleasure through my body like fire licking at my skin.
“I’m going to fuck you every which way,” he mutters. “Bent over the counter, legs wrapped around my waist. Face-down in my bed, where I’ll keep you for hours. On your hands and knees, letting me watch as you come all over my cock.”
A wrecked moan leaves me, my body trembling beneath him, every filthy promise making the heat coil tighter inside me.
“I’ll have you in the shower, slick and dripping, my hands in your hair as I fuck you against the glass.” His lips drag over my jaw, sending a full-body shiver through me. “On the floor, on the stairs, in my truck while I make you scream my name for anyone passing by.”
My head spins. It’s too much and not enough, all at once.
He shifts, rolling his hips in a way that makes stars explode behind my eyes. I gasp, my back arching, and he grins down at me, drinking in every reaction.
“See, angel?” His fingers tilt my chin, forcing my dazed gaze to his. “You’re mine now. My perfect little Omega.”
I barely register the words before he thrusts harder, sending me spiraling, his name tearing from my lips as I shatter completely beneath him.
Hunter’s rhythm falters, and his grip on my hips tightens as his body tenses. I feel it—the way he swells inside me, stretching me even more, locking us together.
A ragged growl tears from his throat, low and primal, his breath shuddering against my skin as he pushes into me deeper, all the way to the hilt. Heat floods me, deep and claiming, his release filling me until the pressure is undeniable, overwhelming.
Oh, fuck.
I’m shaking hard as I clutch his shoulders, my body hypersensitive, my mind spinning. I know what’s happening. He’s knotting me, coming inside me.
Hunter’s head tips back, his jaw clenched tight as another groan rips from his chest. His hands flex against me, gripping like he can’t stand the thought of letting go.
“That’s it, angel,” he rasps. “Take all of me.”
I whine for more, still pulsing around him, the sensation almost too much—the fullness, the pressure, the dominance.
His forehead presses against mine, his breath ragged. “It’s all yours,” he states, his words thick with satisfaction. “Every last drop, every inch—I was made to fit inside you like this.”
A desperate, needy sound leaves me, my body still trembling as I adjust to the unrelenting stretch. My fingers trail up his back, nails dragging slightly, and he groans. His hips rock the slightest bit, sending another wave of pleasure crashing through me.
“Do you love it, angel?” His voice is a dark caress, teasing, knowing. “Love my knot keeping you exactly where I want you?”
My legs tighten around his waist.
“Yes,” I whisper, my lips brushing his ear. “I love it, Hunter. I love every fucking inch of your cock.”
His answering growl is pure satisfaction as his hands roam my body, slow and possessive.
“Good,” he murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to my throat.
Hunter’s breath is ragged, his chest rising and falling against mine as his body continues to work through the aftershocks. He’s still pulsing inside me, still pumping slow, lazy thrusts as his knot holds us together, as if his body refuses to let me go just yet.
A deep, primal growl vibrates through his chest, sending little tremors through my already oversensitive body. The sound is possessive, wrecked. His fingers tighten on my hips like he can’t get enough. Every nerve is still humming, caught between pleasure and the slow stretch of being completely, thoroughly fucked.
The heat is starting to ebb, my body sinking from that dizzying high into something softer, hazier. My muscles are heavy, sore in the best way, my thighs still quivering slightly from how hard I came. I feel everything—the fullness, the lingering tingles, the deep ache where he’s stretched me beyond anything I thought possible.
Hunter’s body shifts, and I let out a small noise as he moves, carefully rolling onto his side, bringing me with him. He gathers me against him, his arms a solid cage around me, his hand splaying over my lower back as if to hold me there, to keep me pressed against his overheated skin.
“Easy, angel,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”
I let out a breathless laugh, still lightheaded, still tingling. My legs shift, and he helps adjust them, moving one over his hip so I’m no longer trapped beneath him. Now, we’re face to face, our foreheads nearly touching, breaths mingling, and his cock deep inside me, locked in place.
Sweat clings to my skin, our bodies still slick from the heat we just drowned in. I sense him inside me, his knot keeping me so perfectly stretched, I don’t know where he ends and I begin.
“That was amazing,” I murmur, my fingers dragging lazily along his chest. “I never knew it could feel like that… even now, I feel every inch of you stretching me. It tingles… beautifully.”
Hunter lets out a low hum of approval, his hand sliding up my spine, trailing warmth in its wake.
“Hurts a little, too,” I admit. “Because you’re so damn big.”
He chuckles, and there’s something warm in his gaze, something that makes my chest tighten.
“But it’s how it’s meant to be,” he says, tilting his head to hold my gaze. “We were made for each other.” His hand cups the back of my head, guiding me closer. “How we’re meant to be.”
For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of our breathing and the slow, steady thrum of our heartbeats. I sigh, letting my body fully relax, letting myself melt against him. My head finds its place against his thick bicep, my cheek pressing to the firm heat of his chest.
His scent surrounds me, strong and intoxicating, filling my lungs and settling deep inside me. I’ve never felt this before—not just the pleasure, not just the high… but this. This contentment. This sense of belonging with someone other than my immediate family.
Hunter’s arms tighten around me, his lips pressing against my hair in a silent promise.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers again. “Rest now, angel.”
Somewhere in the back of my mind, a small voice whispers that when the storm clears and the heat passes, nothing will ever be the same again.