"Yes," she sobbed.
Alfie didn't penetrate. He used his tongue. He was enthusiastic, chaotic, effective. Zia bucked, her hips snapping up.
"Hold her," I ordered Kit, breaking the kiss.
"Got her," Kit growled. His arms tightened, locking her down. "You take it, love. You take what he's giving."
I watched. It was voyeuristic and participatory all at once. I watched the way Zia’s face contorted, the way her hand clutched Kit’s forearm, her nails digging into his tattoo. I watched Alfie, focused and devout, serving her pleasure like it was his only religion.
"Euan," she cried out, her eyes flying open, locking onto mine. "Structure. Give me structure."
She needed something to hold onto. Something logical in the sensory storm.
I offered my hand. She grabbed it, squeezing hard enough to crush bone. I squeezed back, matching her pressure.
"I am here," I said, keeping my voice level, an anchor in the chaos. "Atmospheric pressure holds. You are safe. You are held."
"Mine," she sobbed. "Mine. Mine."
She climaxed. It was a violent, shattering thing. She thrashed against Kit and Alfie, her body bowing, her grip on my hand turning painful.
We absorbed it. Kit took the physical force. Alfie took the internal, licking her through her orgasm, drinking her down, and punctuating it all with a kiss to her thigh. I took the data, logging every tremor, every spike in heart rate, every shift in temperature.
When she settled, she was limp, sweat-slicked, glowing in the indigo light.
"Status?" Kit asked, brushing wet hair off her forehead.
"Critical system failure," she whispered, a sleepy smile tugging at her mouth. "In a good way. Reboot required."
Alfie crawled up the bed, wedging himself into the space between us. He looked wrecked and happy. "That was... loud."
"We haven't even started," I noted, checking the time. "That was the sound check."
Zia groaned, hiding her face in Kit’s neck. "You're trying to kill me."
"We're trying to prove a hypothesis," I corrected, running a hand down the curve of her spine. "That the sum of the parts is greater than the whole."
"Hypothesis supported," she mumbled.
"Not yet," Kit said, his voice darkening. He shifted, adjusting his weight. "We haven't tested the simultaneous input capacity."
Zia went very still. "Simultaneous?"
"You said you wanted the full spectrum," Alfie reminded her, tracing the line of her jaw. "Indigo. Slate. Umber. All at once."
She looked at us. Three Alphas. One bond. A legal agreement in the front room and a nest in the back.
"Okay," she whispered. "Route the inputs."
We moved.
It wasn't clumsy. It was instinctual geometry.
"Rules," she gasped as Kit positioned himself behind her, and I moved between her legs.
"Rules are steady," I promised, taking her ankle in my hand, measuring the distance. "Voice active. Stop means stop."
"Go," she commanded.
