Chapter 34 Savannah
SAVANNAH
The second the lock clicks shut behind me, the sounds in the hallway shift to what I can only describe as "alpha rage: the remix.
" Logan gently puts me on the bed. Something heavy crashes against the far wall, making the thin glass in the picture frames tremble like they're having their own little panic attack.
My stomach twists into a tight knot, sharp and unforgiving, and I have to press a hand against it to keep from doubling over because apparently my body has decided now would be a perfect time for some internal origami.
Sweat clings to my skin, making the fabric of my dress stick uncomfortably in all the wrong places.
My pulse drums so loud I swear the blood is pounding in my ears loud enough to file a noise complaint.
Every nerve feels rewired, pulled taut and humming like a live wire under my skin, and honestly, I'm starting to think I might actually spontaneously combust.
Then Logan steps into the doorway, Griff and Xavier close behind like the world's most attractive and intimidating security detail.
Relief hits me so hard I want to cry, which would be embarrassing but I'm way past caring about my dignity at this point.
Their scents wash over me in waves: pine and leather, sharp steel and rain, fresh mint.
There's an ache buried deep between my thighs that suddenly pulses like a second heartbeat, and yeah, I know exactly what that means because we've been down this road before.
"I feel like I'm burning alive," I admit, voice raw and trembling because my filter has completely abandoned ship and left me to deal with this mess alone.
Logan and I have done this dance before.
Multiple times. I know how he feels when he swells inside me, how it stretches and fills me until I can't think straight.
I know the way he growls when he's buried deep inside me, the way his teeth feel when he bites down on my neck to claim me.
We've got a history of fantastic, mind-blowing sex that leaves me stupid and satisfied for days.
But this heat? This is a wildfire spreading under my skin, racing from my chest down to my core like someone lit a fuse and forgot to warn me about the explosion.
My breath catches, shallow and uneven, and I clutch the edge of the bed, trying to steady myself while my entire world tilts sideways.
The scent of pine and leather floods my senses again, mixing with the heavier, darker undertones of Griff and Xavier.
They're close, too close for comfort, but not close enough yet.
Their presence both soothes and torments me, which is probably the most accurate summary of my entire complicated love life.
I'm on fire. I want all of them, and the scary part is I'm not scared anymore. The banging on the doors grows louder, more frantic, like every unattached alpha in a fifty-mile radius has suddenly decided my door is the most interesting thing they've ever encountered.
"I don't know why this is happening," I confess, voice low, barely audible over the growls and pounding outside. "I wasn’t supposed to be going into heat now."
"Shhh," Xavier soothes, brushing a finger gently over my lips with the kind of touch that makes my brain short-circuit completely. "Don't stress. Don't fight it. We're here to protect you."
Logan slides to my other side, his fingers warm and sure as they cup my jaw.
His steady, patient eyes lock with mine, and despite the pounding in my chest, a sliver of calm cuts through the fire inside me.
"We're here to take care of you," he says softly, and I know he means it because he's done it before.
I nod, unable to stop the wet ache pooling between my thighs. "It hit me fast. Nearly an hour ago? Maybe less."
"I want you," I whisper, looking between all three of them because subtlety has never been my strong suit anyway.
"All of you. I want you to tie with me. I've tried not to think about it for months, but now I can't think about anything else.
Every night I fight it. But now, I want it. I want it to happen."
"I know we haven't talked about all three of you," I add, words tumbling faster now, breath hitching. "But my body knows what it wants. And it won't stop until..."
Logan cuts in, voice calm but firm. "It's not crazy. And we're going to take care of you. Whatever you need."
Xavier's voice is softer, almost apologetic. "But we don't want you to feel obligated. We know we hurt you before. All we want now is to take care of you."
Griff lifts me in one smooth motion, and it feels like we're slipping through a secret passage.
Logan wraps me in blankets and carries me through empty corridors to a basement room.
The cold concrete walls smell of safety, far from the chaos upstairs and from the territorial alphas who might be overwhelmed by my scent.
Griff sets me down carefully on a worn couch in the corner. The room is small, bare concrete walls cold and stark, but it feels like the safest place in the world right now. The storm outside rages, thunder shaking the windows, but inside it's quiet except for our ragged breathing.
Logan drops the blankets around my shoulders and steps back, his eyes burning into mine. I'm soaked with sweat, flushed, trembling like a live wire. My body aches, desperate and wild for him, for the familiar weight of his knot, for the bite of his teeth.
Without hesitation, Logan closes the distance.
His hands are big and strong as they cup my face.
I close my eyes, as he gently peels the clothes from my body.
Making sure to be gentle, and comfort me by blowing on my skin.
His thumbs brush my cheekbones, steady and sure.
His lips crash onto mine with fierce hunger.
There is no slow build, no gentle warning.
He claims me like he has before, like every inch of me belongs to him, because honestly? It does.
I open for him immediately. My hands claw into his shirt, dragging him closer.
His tongue tastes of wine and heat, deep and demanding.
His mouth moves over mine with rough skill, and I melt against him.
My core throbs hot and slick, soaked already and aching for the stretch and pressure that I know is coming.
Behind me, Griff's hands rest firm on my hips, holding me steady. Xavier watches with dark eyes full of need and hunger. Theirs is a different kind of wanting, patient and restrained, but the way they watch us makes my skin prickle with anticipation.
When Logan finally pulls away, my lips are swollen and wet. I whimper, lost in sensation and craving.
"Logan," I breathe, voice cracked and desperate.
He lifts me up into his arms without breaking eye contact. My thighs clamp instinctively around his waist. I wrap my arms around his neck, holding on like I never want to let go.
He lowers me gently onto the couch like I'm something sacred. Then his mouth presses a single kiss to my sternum. My chest rises hard beneath his lips as I pant, shaking with need.
Griff settles into a chair nearby, his eyes never leaving us. Xavier stands close by, ready to step in if needed. They are giving Logan this moment, letting him have the first claim of this heat. I can see the restraint it costs them, but they hold back.
I yank Logan's shirt up and over his head, tossing it carelessly aside. Bare skin glistens under the dim light. My nipples harden, prickling in the cool air. I spread my legs, inviting him without words because we've done this dance before and I know exactly what I want.
Logan kneels between my thighs like he owns every inch of the space he takes up, which honestly, he does. His hands grip my legs firmly, warm and steady. The weight of his body presses into me, grounding me in familiar territory.
His mouth lowers to my breast. His tongue flicks across my nipple, gentle at first, then firmer. I arch my back, hips shifting without thought, craving every touch because I know what's coming and I want it so damn badly.
Griff's voice cuts through the thick tension in the room. "Look at her, Logan. She's perfect for you."
Xavier's low growl follows right after. "Take care of her."
Logan's mouth trails down my ribs, over the soft skin of my stomach. His hands move to my waistband, and my breath catches. He peels my panties down like he's claiming territory, thumbs dragging over my wetness. I can't stop the small whimper that slips out.
"Fuck, you're soaked," he murmurs, voice thick with need, and yeah, I know. I can feel it.
"Please," I pant, barely able to speak. "I can't... I need..."
He smirks, all alpha confidence and certainty. "You can. You will."
Logan strips away the rest of my clothes, then spreads my thighs wide. The heat inside me flares out of control. When his breath brushes against my slick folds, I almost lose it.
Logan's tongue flicks over me again and again, circling my clit before sucking it gently between his lips. I moan, high and wild and uncontrollable. My hands fly into his hair, clutching tightly, pulling him closer because I need more, always more.
My core throbs, dripping wet and desperate. Griff's hands steady me from behind while Xavier watches, eyes dark with hunger. Being surrounded like this makes me shudder, but it's Logan who owns me, whose touch sets my skin on fire.
When Logan breaks away, my lips are swollen and slick with saliva. I whimper, lost in sensation, struggling to find words.
"Logan," I breathe, voice thick and ragged.
"I've got you," he promises, and I know he does because he always has. He lifts me effortlessly into his arms, and I wrap around him like I was made for this. Thighs locking tight, arms around his neck.
He positions himself at my entrance, and then he's sliding inside me slowly, deliberately. Every inch is familiar territory, but it still makes me gasp and arch against him. I've felt this before, but it never gets old. The stretch, the fullness, the way he fills me completely.
The knot follows, heavy and warm, stretching me open in the most perfect way. He doesn't ask if I can handle it because we both know I can. I've taken his knot before, felt him tie us together until we're locked in place, claimed and claiming.
That knot is more than flesh pressing inside me. It's a claim, a promise, a weight that fills me completely and tells the world I'm his. It stretches me, locks us together in a way that is both overwhelming and perfect. Like I'm being taken apart and made whole all at once.
It's thick and hot, a pressure that makes me gasp and grind back against him even as it pins me down. I take all of him, his strength, his need, the raw stubborn pull of the knot that tells me he isn't letting go. Not now. Not ever.
I smirk against his skin. "You know I love this," I tease, voice low and thick with heat. "How you fill me up. How you make me yours."
He growls, deep and possessive. "You're already mine, and I'm already yours."
And damn, it feels like fire and forever. Like this is exactly where I belong.
The pressure inside me is proof of his claim. The ache burning low between my legs, the tight stretch making my body scream for more. I grind down on him, hungry for every inch, every pulse, every deep growl that rumbles from his chest when he is this deep inside me.
Being tied together like this is both surrender and power wrapped into one wild, messy, beautiful tangle. It is me taking all of him and letting him take all of me. There is no apology, no holding back. Just raw, scorching need and fierce possession.
The pressure coils tighter until I cannot hold it.
My body breaks apart around him, clenching, trembling, every cry swallowed by his hand as the pleasure rips through me.
I writhe beneath him, helpless in the storm, and he never lets me go.
He growls again, his voice ragged against my ear, urging me to take it all, filling me deeper with every thrust.
I feel the moment he gives in. His rhythm falters, his breath turns harsh, his body locking to mine as he buries himself deep.
A guttural sound rumbles from his chest, raw and unrestrained, and I feel him pulse inside me.
He empties himself in hard, shuddering waves, clinging to me as though he cannot bear to lose this moment.
My eyes flutter open, my voice breaking free at last when his hand slips away. “This feels so right,” I whisper, still gasping, still trembling. “Yes.”
He lowers his forehead to mine, breath hot and uneven, holding himself inside me as if the world outside does not exist. We are both shaking, both undone, bodies tangled and wet with sweat.
Neither of us moves. We stay pressed together, hearts pounding, caught in the raw heat and the truth of what we just gave each other.
I catch Griff's eyes from the nearby chair. He watches me like I'm his whole world, even if Logan is the one holding me right now. Xavier leans against the wall, quiet but alert, like a shadow ready to protect and claim when his turn comes.
I let out a shaky breath, heart pounding hard, skin slick with sweat. The storm rages outside, but in this room, wrapped in heat and claim and need, I'm safe. I'm home. I'm exactly where I belong.
Griff's voice cuts through the post-orgasmic haze, low and promising. "I'm next."
Thank the universe for the best sex I've ever had.