I waste no time doing exactly what he asks. I lick at his wrist for a moment before I bite down against him, solidifying our bond in both directions.
“Good God,” Hayes chokes out.
“It’s incredible, isn’t it?” Beck murmurs as he nuzzles the nape of my neck.
“She’s perfect,” Ford whispers as my orgasm spirals through me.
I’m drowning in them. Their scents, their knots, their come, their bonds. Beck’s smoke and Ford’s breeze and Hayes’s rays of sunlight bounce through me, illuminating every single dark spot I’ve tried to keep away from the world. My body writhes helplessly, tied and claimed and ruined, complete.
Mine.
Ours.
Our pack, forged in heat and rut and instinct.
I never want it to end.
CHAPTER 32
Beck
Lo’s heat hasn’t let up for days now.
And I fucking love it.
She whines if she’s not touched. Squirms when she’s left alone too long. The whole house smells of her slick and sugar peach scent, thick and dizzying, and it’s in my skin, in my lungs, all over me.
She tries to act stubborn, tries to fight it, but the second I get my hands on her, she melts. Every damn time.
Right now, she’s curled on the bed in nothing but my shirt, legs spread lazy, slick shining between her thighs. Her nest is a disaster—blankets, hoodies, and pillows dragged into a messy pile, crusted with our fluids. But she looks like the center of the universe in it, flushed and wrecked, eyes heavy and wanting.
“Beck…” she whimpers, reaching for me without even thinking.
Fuck, that sound. It goes straight to my cock and has me hard and aching before I’ve even crossed the room.
I kneel between her thighs, drag my hands up her soft skin, spread her open. Her scent hits me hard, sharp and sweet, and my instinct snarls awake all over again. I bury my face in herpussy, licking her open, tasting her heat, and her whole body jerks as if she’s been shocked.
She’s soaked. Always soaked. Days of this, and she’s still dripping, begging, and clenching on nothing.
“Alpha…” she cries, hips rocking against my face.
Yeah. That’s right. She knows who she’s calling for.
I hold her down and eat her until she’s sobbing, slick spilling down my chin, her hands fisting in my hair. She’ll die if I stop. My cock aches, swollen and heavy, my knot already straining at the base. I should slow down, give her a breath. But I can’t. I don’t want to.
I want her needy.
I want her messy.
I want her crying for me.
When I finally haul myself up, her thighs are shaking and her pussy is clenching on nothing, desperate.
“Beck, please,” she begs, tears shining in her lashes. “Need you… need it…”
My chest rumbles. Possessive, animalistic. She doesn’t have to beg me.
I push inside her in one hard thrust, and she screams, head falling back, body arching as I fill her to the brim. Her slick gushes around me, coating my cock, pulling me deeper until my knot is grinding against her entrance.
