When I settle between her thighs, the scent of her slick isoverwhelming. She’s soaked, trembling, completely lost to instinct, and I have to close my eyes for a second just to breathe through it.
“Easy,” I murmur, running my hands along her thighs. Her skin is burning hot. “Let me take all this heat for you.”
I don’t wait for a response I know won’t come. Just line myself up, my cock sliding through all that slick, and push inside slowly, carefully, watching her face for any sign of pain.
But there’s only relief. Her mouth falls open on a silent cry, her whole body going taut as I fill her inch by inch, and the expression on her face is pure salvation.
She’s so tight. So hot. So perfect around me that I have to pause halfway, breathing hard, fighting for control because if I don’t, I’m going to come right now like some virgin.
When I’m fully seated, Sierra makes this sound that’s broken and grateful and desperate all at once. Her hands come up to clutch at my shoulders, holding on like I’m the only solid thing in her world.
I start to move. Slow at first, letting her adjust, but her body is demanding more. Her hips lift to meet my thrusts, taking me deeper, and the sounds she’s making get more desperate with each slide.
“Sierra,” I murmur, picking up the pace. My control is already fraying at the edges. “You’re so perfect. So perfect for us.”
Her body answers even if she can’t. Clenching around me, trembling, arching into each thrust like she needs to feel me everywhere, like she can’t get close enough.
I feel hands on my back. Cole, supporting me, anchoring me. And then Malik is there beside us, his hand stroking through Sierra’s hair, murmuring soft words she probably can’t understand but might feel anyway.
“Beautiful,” Malik says, and his voice is rough with rut. “So strong. You’re doing so good, Sierra.”
Dax settles on her other side, one hand resting on her thigh.The possessive touch makes something rumble deep in my chest.Mine, she’s mine, I’m taking care of her. But then Sierra’s hand reaches out, finding Dax’s arm, holding on, and the possessiveness melts into something else.
Pack.
We’re all pack. All here for her. All taking care of her together.
I shift my angle slightly, hitting that spot inside her that makes her whole body jerk. She makes a sound that’s almost a scream, her nails digging into my shoulders hard enough to break skin.
“Close,” I murmur to my brothers, because Sierra can’t tell us herself. “She’s close. I can feel it.”
“Give her what she needs,” Cole says, his voice rough with his own barely-controlled rut.
I thrust harder, faster, chasing that edge for both of us. Sierra’s trembling is getting worse, her whole body tensing like a bowstring, and I know she’s right there, right on the edge, just needs that final push.
My knot starts to swell, catching on her rim with each thrust. The sensation makes her keen, high and desperate and needy, and I know without words that that’s what she’s yearning for. Not just my cock. Not just release. But my knot. To be locked and filled and claimed.
“Going to knot you,” I tell her, though I’m saying it more to ground myself. “Going to fill you up so good, Sierra. Going to make this ache in your belly finally stop.”
A few more hard, deep, possessive thrusts and my knot pops inside, locking us together.
The sensation sends Sierra over the edge like a trigger. She’s convulsing around me, her whole body shaking with the force of her orgasm, making sounds that are barely human.
It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I come with a growl that I barely recognize as my own voice, spilling inside her, my knot swelling even larger to keepeverything locked in tight. My vision whites out at the edges. My whole body is shaking. It’s too much. It’s perfect. It’s everything.
Sierra goes boneless beneath me, her eyes rolling back, her breathing ragged. But the sounds she’s making now are different. Softer. Satisfied purrs instead of desperate keens, and the change in her scent is immediate. Still thick with heat but not quite so sharp now. Not quite so desperate.
“There you go,” I murmur, brushing sweat-dampened hair back from her face. My hand is still shaking. “That’s better, isn’t it, sweetheart?”
She can’t answer, but her scent tells me everything I need to know.
We’re locked together, my knot firmly seated, and I lean in to pepper kisses along her lips, her neck, her throat. Tasting the salt of her sweat, breathing in her scent, feeling her pulse racing under my mouth.
“We should—” Cole starts, then stops. His hand comes to rest on my shoulder, squeezing. His scent is thick with barely controlled arousal.
“Yeah,” Malik agrees, understanding without Cole having to finish. His scent is just as intense, just as desperate.
