She whimpers around his cock, looking so fucking beautiful with her lips stretched and spit slicking her chin.
“Look at her,” Beau growls, slamming in one last time. “Fucking look at her.”
Connor groans loud and sharp, his cock twitching as he shoves deep into her throat and holds, spilling down her throat as she drinks every drop. His hand stays in her hair, anchoring her while his whole body shudders, and behind her, Beau lets out a sound I’ll never forget—somewhere between a growl and a roar.
His hips slam flush with hers. His knot catches, he locks, and then hepoursinto her—cock pulsing deep in her ass, claiming her in the final way we hadn’t yet.
“Fuckingyes,” Beau snarls, body pressed against hers, his voice breaking with it. “Mine. Ours. Fuck, you weremadeto be ours.”
She moans weakly around Connor’s cock as she starts to come again; her entire body shaking, full in every sense of the word, and all I can do is hold her.
Knot still locked. Cock still twitching. Heart pounding with something I’ve never felt before.
Home.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Emery
The first thing I register is warmth.
Then arms.
Lots of arms.
And movement.
I blink slowly, dazed and heavy-limbed and drifting, the world coming back in soft fragments as I realize I’m being carried—no,cradled—up the stairs. My head lolls slightly as my cheek rests against a broad chest, and I catch the deep, familiar scent of Connor wrapping around me.
“Hey, Omega,” he murmurs, brushing a kiss to my hairline. “You with us?”
I manage a small, content sound in the back of my throat that might be ayes, too wrung out to form a word. My entire body feels like it’s been poured into itself—loose, aching, and humming. Every nerve is oversensitive in that way that comes after something intense, when even breathing feels optional.
I’m completely spent, and I couldn’t move if I wanted to.
But Idon’twant to.
I’m passed gently into other arms, just as solid, just as sure.Beau. I know it without looking, can feel it through our bond.
“I’ve got you,” he says gruffly, his hand splayed across my thigh.
“The bed,” Theo mutters from nearby. “Is it big enough?”
“Just about,” Connor snorts under his breath.
I barely register being lowered onto the mattress, the soft dip of it beneath my weight, the way the covers are pulled up and tucked around me.
They’re efficient and gentle as they move around me, tender in a way that makes my chest ache.
Theo crawls in beside me, careful of his injured shoulder, and his eyes flick over my face, checking every detail. His curls are damp, his expression wrecked and tender all at once.
“You okay?” he asks quietly, fingers brushing my wrist like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.
I swallow. “I’m… better than okay.”
My voice cracks, and I try again.
“I’mperfect.”
