Chapter 53
53
Layne
V alentine’s fingers trail up my spine. I know his touch like I know his name.
“Did you know I can now feel you sleeping?” he asks quietly, careful not to wake the others.
Matteo is under me, Dante on my other side. Turning my head, I face my Alpha, and I get a swell of his pride flooding our bond.
“Did you hear me?”
“No. I felt you call me Alpha , though. But it’s like explaining how a color makes you feel. I hope I get better at explaining things to you.”
“Or not. You’re exactly how I want you to be. Plus, I know what you’re going through.”
He reaches over and kisses me softly, and when I lick over the healing marks of my bite, lust explodes in his eyes. He blinks it away, and I laugh, stunned by the force of the rush myself.
“I’m feeding you. After a cold shower.” He kisses me again, a little more aggressively, before he rolls off our makeshift bed.
Except, when he goes, the rush of his lust, along with the peaceful serenity in our bond, seems to have unlocked something else.
“Val.” I stop him, and he rolls right back to where he was. I climb onto him as soon as his head settles on the pillow. “Food can wait.”
As I straddle him, his hands fall to my knees, and I get another tease of something I can only describe as warm, effervescent bubbles tickling me from the inside out. I stretch down over him, rubbing my chest on his and burying my nose against his throat, chasing his scent. I taste it on my tongue and my mouth waters.
Valentine runs his hand up and over my shoulders, and I arch into his touch, crazed for more.
“Are you going into heat for us?”
I can’t talk.
With a lungful of his espresso scent, my blood sizzles and a sweet, floaty dizziness consumes. Where our bodies touch, a warmth flows and something in my pussy lets go, making me sit up and look down.
My Alpha is already staring at my pussy and gliding his fingers through the rush of slick that has soaked through my shorts and saturated his tee. His focus makes the slick pool faster and my core throb harder.
A mix of a moan and a strangled groan fills my ears, and it takes a moment to realize I’m the one making it. I ride his hand and whimper as my temperature keeps climbing. I feel like I have a fever.
There’s a tug in my chest, and I shake myself out of a growing haze and follow the sensation to Matteo’s waiting mouth. He uses his steadying vanilla scent to fill my lungs. And as intense as Valentine’s touch is, it's the same with Matteo, but his soothes like aloe on a burn, providing me the space to talk.
“Nest. Please. And your clothes.” I rip off my top and claw at Matteo’s T-shirt, nearly shredding it.
I bury my face in his scent as soon as I have a hold of his clothes and start rubbing the material over my face. With my other hand, I reach for Dante, demanding his. Without asking, Valentine adds his to my pile. Once I have their shirts, I want everything they’re wearing. Need it.
Their clothes in my nest is an obsession that hits harder than the increases in my temperature.
I point to what I want. “Those, please.”
Their scent-laden clothes fall into my waiting arms, and I’m torn—stay here or go to my nest. I want to be in both places at once, but my nest isn’t ready. It needs the final touches I’m holding.
“Go make your nest pretty, Layne.” Matteo sweeps his body behind mine, his lips instantly falling to his claim. And his touch is electrifying, his suggestion perfect. “Your pack will wait outside the door until you’re ready. Is that okay?”
“Don’t come in until I say.” I’m racing away before they have a chance to answer.
It’s lucky we programmed the security on the door to be a palm print, because there’s no way I would be able to think of anything past spreading their clothes over my nest so I can wrap myself in their scents.