And through the bond, she's feeling me too. My love for her—deep and intense. My respect for who she is. My pride in everything she's accomplished. My need to protect her, support her, claim her.
I'm still coming—wave after wave—my cock pulsing as I fill her. Weeks of wanting her, needing her, all of it pouring into her now.
Through our new bond, I feel her orgasm too. She's coming again from the bite, from the bond snapping into place, and the feedback loop is devastating. My pleasure amplifies hers, hers amplifies mine.
When awareness returns, we're both shaking, gasping.
"Holy shit," she manages.
"Yeah." Through our bond, I can feel everything—her satisfaction, her love, her joy at finally feeling me. "I can feel you. Everything."
"Me too." She's crying happy tears. "Grayson, I can feel how much you love me. How much you respect me."
Through the bond, I can also feel Seth and River—their happiness, their relief. The pack bonds slot into place, connecting all four of us through her.
Seth's warmth. River's brightness. My intensity. All of it flowing through Bea, connecting us.
"I can feel them," she whispers. "All three of you. Connected to me and to each other through me."
"Pack," I say. "Complete pack."
My knot is still locked deep inside her. I shift carefully to make us more comfortable on the couch, reaching for the throw blanket draped over the back and pulling it over her, tucking it around her shoulders.
"Cold?" I murmur.
"Not anymore." She's smiling, snuggling into both me and the blanket.
"We should move to the nest," I say, even though I know we can't.
"Can't. Your knot. We're stuck."
"Guess we're sleeping on the couch then."
"Worth it." Her fingers trace my tattoos lazily. "You're warm anyway."
I hold her close, feeling her contentment through our bond as she drifts off.
Complete.
I waketo River's voice.
"You bonded on the couch? Really?"
I blink awake, disoriented. Bea's still sprawled on top of me, my knot finally deflated, cum drying on both our thighs. The blanket has slipped, leaving very little to the imagination.
River's standing in the doorway with Seth, both of them grinning like idiots.
"The nest was right upstairs," River continues, thoroughly entertained. "Comfortable. Private. But no, you chose the living room couch."
"Shut up," I mutter, carefully adjusting the blanket to cover Bea more.
Through the pack bonds, I feel their amusement. Their happiness. Their relief that we're finally complete.
"We're just saying," Seth adds, trying not to laugh. "If you were going for romantic ambiance, the couch wasn't it."
"It was spontaneous," Bea mumbles against my chest, still half-asleep. Through our bond, I feel her embarrassment mixed with satisfaction.
"Clearly." River's smirking. "Very spontaneous. And very... thorough, based on the mess."
