They push in together, slow and careful and synchronized. Sierra’s whole body goes rigid. Her mouth falls open on a silent gasp, her back arching, and for a second, I think it’s too much.
But then her scent spikes with pure relief, and I know it’s exactly what she needed.
“Fuck,” Malik groans, his forehead dropping to her shoulder. “She’s so tight. So perfect.”
“So good,” Cole agrees, his voice strained. His hands are gripping her hips, knuckles white with the effort of staying still. “Taking both of us so well, sweetheart.”
They start to move, finding a rhythm that has Sierra making these high, desperate sounds with every thrust. When Cole thrusts forward, Malik pulls back. When Malik pushes in, Cole pulls out. A constant push and pull that keeps Sierra filled and stimulated, never empty, never without one of them.
I settle beside them, and Sierra’s hand finds my wrist immediately. Her grip is desperate, crushing, using me as an anchor while my pack brothers work her higher and higher. Her nails dig into my palm, but I don’t care. Don’t even feel it, really. Just holding on and letting her take what she needs.
“She’s close,” Malik pants after several minutes. His rhythm is starting to falter. “Can feel it. She’s squeezing so tight?—”
“Knot her,” Dax commands from Sierra’s other side. His voice has that alpha rumble to it that makes all of us respond. “Give our omega what she needs.”
Our omega. The possessive pride in those words makes my rut surge.
Cole’s thrusts become erratic, his knot starting to swell. “Going to lock you up,” he tells Sierra breathlessly. “Going to fill you so full, sweetheart. So full, you’ll feel us for days.”
His knot pops inside, and Sierra screams, the sound raw as her orgasm crashes through her. Her whole body convulses, clenching around both of them so hard that Cole gasps, and it’s enough to send him over the edge too.
He comes with a roar, his knot swelling fully, locking them together while he spills inside her.
Behind Sierra, Malik is still moving, working her through it, chasing his own release, his thrusts becoming desperate and uncontrolled. A few more and he’s there too, spilling inside her with a groan that sounds almost pained.
Sierra is boneless between them, making these soft satisfied sounds, her scent thick with contentment, with satisfaction. But underneath it all, I can still smell heat. Fading, maybe, but not gone. Not yet.
Malik carefully pulls out, pressing a kiss to Sierra’s shoulder. “Be right back,” he murmurs.
He heads to the bathroom to clean up while the rest of us focus on Sierra. She’s wrecked in the best way. Skin flushed pink, lips swollen, eyes still glazed but peaceful now. Cole is locked inside her still, murmuring soft words I can’t quite hear, stroking her hair, holding her close.
When Malik returns a few minutes later, he’s cleaned up and ready. Sierra’s heat-glazed eyes track him immediately, and she makes a soft whimper in her throat.
She still needs more. One more time.
Cole’s knot deflates enough for him to carefully pull out, and Sierra makes a sound of loss that breaks my heart. But then Malik is there, settling over her, filling the emptiness before it can become distress.
This time it’s slower. Gentler. Malik takes his time, working her up with long, deep strokes that have Sierra trembling. Almost like her body knows this is the last time. That the peak is finally breaking, and this is the final wave.
When Malik’s knot locks inside her, Sierra makes this soft, satisfied sound that goes straight to my heart. Her eyes drift closed, her breathing evening out despite still being filled and knotted, and for the first time in two days, she looks truly peaceful.
She’s spent. Completely and thoroughly satisfied.
We surround her while they’re locked together. Touching her, soothing her, praising her. Creating a cocoon of safety and warmth and pack around our omega while she finally, finally gets the relief she’s been desperately seeking.
And then, as Malik’s knot finally releases and we’re all catching our breath, I smell it.
The change in Sierra’s scent.
The cherry syrup is still there, still sweet. The honeycomb still present, still rich. But that sharp, desperate edge is gone. Like someone flipped a switch and turned off the urgency, the need, the biological imperative that’s been driving her for two days.
The peak is breaking.
The realization hits all of us at once. I can see it in the way Cole’s shoulders tense, the way Dax’s jaw clenches, the way Malik’s arms tremble as he pulls her closer.
It’s breaking... This is it. The end of the peak. The end of the madness. The end of this bubble we’ve been living in, where nothing existed except taking care of Sierra and keeping her safe and giving her what she needed.
And none of us knows what comes next.
