I nod, still dazed as I help to guide her down with careful hands. Emery moves happily, collapsing gently back onto the couch, her legs twitching from the aftershocks of her own release. Her whole body glows with slick and sweat as she blinks up at me like I’m the only thing she sees, and when I brush my fingertips down her cheek, her fingers curl to catch mine.
That’s right: she’s still greedy.
Forus.
Beau steps up beside Theo, finally pulling back from Emery.
“You’ve been watching long enough.”
Theo’s throat bobs hard.
He doesn’t look at us. Only at her.
“She…” His voice is wrecked. “She’s perfect.”
I grin, stepping aside, giving him a clear view of what’s waiting for him.
“We know,” I say, stroking a hand down Emery’s thigh as she moans softly, her legs parting again like it’s instinct. “Now come prove it.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Theo
“Now come prove it.”
Connor’s words land like a match on dry kindling, and something inside me snaps taut.
My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. My cock aches, but that’s nothing compared to the pressure in my chest. The instinct. The heat. The want that’s been coiling tighter every time I watched them touch her, every time I scented her afterward.
Every time I told myself to wait.
Emery's slender thighs are parted, slick still shining between them, her chest rising and falling fast. Her throat is bare, pulse jumping visibly beneath the claim mark that Beau left behind on her skin, and her scent iseverywhere—omega heat, sex, satisfaction.
Pack.
I take a step, then another. Beau and Connor don’t move, giving me space, but not distance. They’re close enough to watch, and to back me up if I falter.
“Go on,” Connor says quietly. “She’s been waiting.”
I kneel in front of her, and her breath catches, soft and shaky.
“You okay?” I ask, even though my voice is fraying.
My hand hovers over her thigh, fingers twitching with the effort not to grab.
“Yes,” she whispers. Then, softer still, “Please.”
I put my hands on her.
Her skin is warm and damp under my palms as I slide them up the insides of her thighs, thumbs brushing over muscles that tremble at my touch. She’s shaking with anticipation that mirrors my own as I lean in and press my mouth to the crease of her knee, then her inner thigh, then closer.
So close I can feel the heat rolling off her, smell the mix of Connor and Beau and her own slick-soaked need.
She moans, hips twitching helplessly, and behind me, Connor lets out a low hum.
“Fuck. Look at her. She’s soaked.”
“Easy, Theo.” Beau’s voice comes low and controlled. “Don’t rush her. Or yourself.”
