"Loud," Alfie promised, a grin flashing in the dark. "Copy that."
"Are we putting on a show?" Kit asked, settling onto the bed, his back against the wall, creating the anchor point.
"No," Zia said. She crawled toward him. "We're building a house."
The geometry of four people in a confined space requires precise calculation. It is a problem of mass, velocity, and available surface area.
Kit took the head of the bed. He was the foundation. Zia settled between his legs, her back to his chest, accepted his weight immediately.
Alfie took the left flank. He was kinetic energy, restless and tactile.
I took the right. I was the structural support.
"Euan," Zia murmured, leaning her head back against Kit’s shoulder but extending a hand toward me. "Check the levels."
I moved in. I didn't touch her skin immediately. I hovered my hand over her stomach, feeling the radiant heat.
"Temperature elevated," I observed. "Pulse visual in the carotid artery."
"Fix it," she whispered.
The transition from observation to interaction was nonlinear. It wasn't a sequence; it was a simultaneous event.
Alfie moved to her feet, his mouth pressing open-mouthed kisses to her instep, her ankle, her calf. He was worshiping her from the ground up.
Kit’s hands were on her waist, broad and dark against her pale skin, thumb rubbing a soothing circle into her hip bone.
"I need hands," Zia demanded, her eyes fluttering shut. "Euan. Hands."
I engaged. I reached out, my fingers finding the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. I didn't rush. I applied calculated pressure to the adductor muscles, forcing her legs to relax, to open.
"Precision," she hissed, a shiver running through her while a smile tugged at her lips. She was utterly captivating.
"Always," I murmured.
The sensory input was overwhelming. I wasn't just processing Zia; I was processing the Pack. I could feel Kit’s deep, rhythmic breathing vibrating through the mattress. I could smell the spike in Alfie’s scent as he moved higher, nuzzling her knee. We were a feedback loop.
"God," Alfie groaned, his voice muffled against her leg. "Look at her. She's perfect. She's the whole world."
"Focus, Alfie," Kit rumbled, his voice a low command that made Zia arch her back. "Don't overload the channel."
"I can take it," Zia gasped. "Overload it. I want the noise."
She reached down, her hand tangling in my hair, pulling me closer. "Euan. Mouth."
I obeyed. I moved up, crawling over the duvet until I was level with her chest. I kissed her neck. "Permission to timestamp?" I asked against her skin.
"Denied," she said breathlessly. "No marking tonight. Just sensation."
"Copy."
I moved to her mouth. Kissing her while Kit held her was a study in contrasts. She was soft, yielding, tasting of peppermint tea. Kit was a solid wall behind her though his hands deftly worked her nipples through her bra. I was the bridge between them.
"Alfie," she moaned into my mouth. "Now."
Alfie didn't need a diagram. He moved between her legs.
"Hi," he whispered, his face hovering over her center. "Can I?"
