Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
MASON
I surface from sleep in fragments.
First, there’s a sensation of warmth bracketing my body on both sides, then the weight of limbs tangled with mine, then the overwhelming awareness of scent. Layered citrus and vanilla wrapped around the darker notes of pine and ocean salt that I’ve known since childhood.
My eyes flutter open to darkness. The room is unfamiliar for a disorienting moment before memory slots into place like tumblers falling in a lock. Judah’s house. The guest wing. The nest Phoenix built for her heat that somehow became mine.
The fever burns hotter, pulling a low groan from my throat.
I shift against the mattress and immediately become aware of two things: the slick dampness between my thighs, and the fact that I’m sandwiched between the two people I love most in this world.
Phoenix curls against my right side, copper hair spilling across my chest like flame in the darkness.
Her breath fans warm and steady against my collarbone, one small hand splayed possessively over my ribs.
Even in sleep, she holds on like she’s afraid I might disappear if her grip isn’t tight enough.
On my left is…Judah.
Fuck.
His massive frame radiates heat like a furnace, one arm draped heavy across my waist, fingers loosely curled against my hip. I can feel his heartbeat against my shoulder blade—slow and steady, the rhythm of deep sleep.
Mine, something primal whispers in the fever-haze of my brain. Both of them. Mine.
The thought sends a fresh wave of arousal crashing through me. My cock throbs against my stomach, already painfully hard, and the emptiness between my legs aches with a desperation that borders on agony.
I need—
God, I need—
My hips roll without conscious permission, seeking friction that isn’t there. The motion disturbs Phoenix, who makes a soft sound of protest and burrows closer. Her thigh slides between mine, pressing against my erection, and the contact tears a moan from my throat before I can stop it.
“Mace?” Her voice is sleep-rough, confused. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I manage, which is perhaps the most ridiculous lie I’ve ever told. “Go back to sleep.”
But she’s already lifting her head, amber eyes blinking away sleep as she takes in my flushed face, my heaving chest, the desperate way I’m pressing against her thigh.
“Oh.” Her expression softens with understanding. “Another wave?”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
The heat has been coming in cycles since it started—cresting and receding like tides, leaving me wrung out between each surge. This wave feels different, though. Stronger. More urgent. Like something building toward a breaking point I can’t quite see.
Phoenix’s hand slides up my chest, fingers tracing the line of my collarbone. “What do you need?”
You. Both of you. Everything.
“I don’t—“ The words stick in my throat. Even now, even after everything, asking for what I want feels impossible. “I can take care of it myself. You don’t have to—“
“Mason.” Her voice carries a familiar note of exasperation. “We’ve been over this. You don’t have to handle everything alone anymore.”
Movement at my back. Judah’s arm tightens around my waist as he stirs, his nose pressing into the curve of my neck. I feel the rumble of his voice against my spine before I hear it.
“Mace? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Another lie, equally transparent. “Just the heat. It’ll pass.”
Judah’s breath fans hot across my nape as he inhales deeply. A shudder runs through him, the arm around my waist going tense.
“You smell incredible,” he murmurs against my skin. “Like chamomile and sex.”
Heat floods my face. “Judah—”
“We’ve got you.” His lips brush my shoulder, feather-light. “Whatever you need.”
The combined assault—Phoenix’s fingers still tracing patterns on my chest, Judah’s mouth on my shoulder, both of their scents wrapping around me like a physical embrace—shatters something inside me.
I roll over to face Judah, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt to drag him closer. His eyes go wide with surprise before I crush my mouth against his.
The kiss is graceless and desperate, more teeth than technique. I don’t care. I need this like I need air, need him like I’ve needed nothing else in my entire miserable life.
Judah recovers fast. His hand comes up to cup the back of my neck, angling my head for better access. He kisses me back with a decade of hunger behind it—slow and thorough and devastating, tongue sliding against mine in ways that make my toes curl.
Behind me, Phoenix presses closer. Her lips find the nape of my neck, teeth scraping lightly over the sensitive skin there. One hand slides down my stomach, fingers dancing along the waistband of my boxers.
“Is this okay?” Her breath is warm against my ear.
I break away from Judah long enough to gasp out a “yes” before his mouth finds mine again.
Phoenix’s hand slips beneath the elastic.
Her fingers wrap around my cock and I nearly come apart right there. I moan into Judah’s mouth, hips jerking forward into her grip, back arching off the mattress.
“Easy.” Judah’s voice is strained, rough with his own arousal. “We’ve got all night.”
“Don’t want all night.” The words tumble out fever-drunk and desperate. “Want you. Now. Both of you.”
Phoenix’s hand stills on my cock. Judah pulls back from the kiss, blue eyes searching my face.
“Mace—” Judah starts.
“I know what I’m asking.” I meet his gaze, willing him to understand. “I know what I want. I’ve wanted this since I was seventeen years old. I’ve spent a decade convincing myself I’d never have it.”
My hand finds his jaw, thumb tracing the sharp line of his cheekbone.
“Please,” I whisper. “Let me have this.”
Something breaks behind his eyes. His expression goes raw, vulnerable in a way I haven’t seen since we were kids.
“We should talk about this first,” he says, even as his body betrays him—hips pressing forward against mine, erection straining against his sweatpants. “Make sure you’re thinking clearly.”
A laugh escapes me, edged with hysteria. “Clearly? I’m in heat, Judah. I haven’t thought clearly in days.”
“Exactly.” His jaw tightens with the effort of restraint. “Which is why we should wait until—”
“Until what? Until the heat passes and I talk myself out of it again?” I shake my head, grip tightening on his shirt. “I’ve been waiting ten years. I’m done waiting.”
“Mason—”
“What’s the worst that could happen?” The question comes out sharp, almost mocking. “An accidental bonding?”
Judah flinches like I’ve struck him.
The words hang between us, weighted with a decade of pain and misunderstanding. His hand falls away from my neck. His expression shutters.
Shit.
“That’s not—“ I swallow hard, struggling to find words through the heat-fog. “Judah, I didn’t mean—“
“You did.” His voice is flat. “And you’re right. That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”
“I’m not.” I grab his face with both hands, forcing him to look at me. “I’m not afraid of bonding with you. I was afraid you didn’t want it. That you regretted the first time. That’s why I left.”
“I know.” His hand comes up to cover mine, pressing my palm against his cheek. “But hearing you say it like that—like it’s a joke—“
“It’s not a joke.” I hold his gaze, willing him to see the truth. “I want this. All of it. You, me, Phoenix—whatever this is becoming. I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
Behind me, Phoenix has gone still. Her hand withdraws from my boxers, resting instead on my hip.
“Mason.” Her voice is soft, serious. “Are you sure about this? Because once we cross this line—”
“I’m sure.” I twist to look at her over my shoulder. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
Her amber eyes search mine for a long moment. Whatever she sees there must satisfy her, because she nods slowly.
“Okay.” She glances past me to Judah. “What do you think?”
Judah’s jaw works through something that looks like it might shatter his teeth. His gaze drops to where my body is pressed against his, takes in the flush spreading across my chest, the desperate way I’m trembling.
“I think,” he says slowly, “that if we’re doing this, we’re doing it right.”
His hand slides around to grip the back of my neck, pulling me close enough that our foreheads touch.
“I’m not going to rush through this. Not going to treat it like something to get through.” His breath mingles with mine, warm and sweet. “You deserve better than that. You always have.”
The words crack something open inside me. Something I’ve been keeping locked away for ten years, convinced I’d never be able to let it out.
“Then show me,” I whisper against his mouth. “Show me what I deserve.”
Judah kisses me.
This time it’s different. Slower. More deliberate. He explores my mouth like he’s mapping uncharted territory, cataloguing every response, every shiver, every small sound I make.
Behind me, Phoenix’s hands get busy. She tugs at my boxers, working them down over my hips with efficient movements. Cool air hits overheated skin and I gasp into Judah’s mouth.
Her fingers trace the curve of my ass, dipping between my cheeks to find the slick wetness gathered there.
“God, Mason.” Her voice is thick with want. “You’re so wet.”
I whimper as one finger circles my entrance. The sensation is electric, pleasure sparking up my spine.
Judah breaks the kiss, pulling back just far enough to watch my face. “That’s it. Let her take care of you.”
Phoenix’s finger presses inside.
The stretch is nothing—I’m so slick and open from the heat that she slides in with no resistance at all. But the sensation of being filled, even this small amount, sends me spiraling.
“More,” I gasp. “Please, I need—”
A second finger joins the first. Phoenix works them in and out with a steady rhythm, crooking them just right to hit that spot inside me that makes stars burst behind my eyes.
“You’re beautiful like this.” Judah’s hand traces down my chest, thumb brushing over a nipple. “Always have been. Used to dream about seeing you this way.”
“You dreamed about me?”