"Don't stop," I whisper, the words barely a ghostly sound.
Warren’s gaze softens, the frantic energy we just shared fading into something deeper, more tender.
He leans over me, blanketing my body with his, pressing his chest flat against mine. The weight of him feels so good, his skin hot and firm against my own.
His hands slide down to grip my waist and hips, squeezing my flesh with a possessive but gentle reverence. Then he starts to move.
It’s not the hard, desperate fucking from before. Instead, I feel cherished and safe in the way his body surrounds mine.
Warren rolls his hips in a slow, sensual rhythm, grinding deep inside me. He makes love to me with a deliberate intensity, every stroke designed to draw out the pleasure and make me feel cherished.
He nuzzles my neck, breathing me in, his mouth brushing my skin as he whispers, "So good, baby. Let go."
And I do.
My orgasm washes over me like a gentle, warm tide. A sweet, trembling release that leaves me gasping softly against my alpha’s shoulder.
I cling to him, my fingers digging into the hard muscles of his back as my body quakes in his arms, wave after wave of sweet pleasure rippling through me. It's intimate and overwhelming in a completely different way, making my heart feel as full as my body.
Warren follows right behind me.
He buries his face in the crook of my neck, his hips jerking once as he finds his own end. He muffles his groan against my skin, his cock pulsing deep inside me as he spills himself.
Even in the throes of his climax, he's careful, holding me tight but mindful of the sleeping beta only a few feet away.
Once we both come down, we stay like that for a long time, tangled together in the dark, our breathing slowly syncing as we come down.
Making Breakfast
Beck
I havepancakes going on the stove. The real kind. Not the frozen crap Grason eats like it’s a food group. The batter spreads thick and uneven in the pan, bubbles forming slowly at the surface before popping with soft little sighs. I slip the spatula under the edges as they start to set, turning that perfect shade of golden brown that tells me it’s almost time to flip.
Cass stands at the kitchen island behind me, his cane leaning against the counter, cutting up fruit. Apples. Bananas. Strawberries.
“Alright, Beck.” He sets down his knife. “All done.”
I glance over my shoulder right as he steps away from the island. His movement is so much better than it was a few days ago. There’s still a hitch in his stride, but it’s getting better every day.
“This looks good.” Cass hums as he steps up behind me.His body is warm at my back as he wraps his arms around my waist. “Hmmm, delicious.”
“Hopefully, they’re good.” I lean into him, my shoulders loosening. “It’s been a while since we did pancakes.”
“I wasn’t talking about the food.” Cass presses a kiss to the side of my neck, right over his mating bite, nipping my skin lightly with his teeth.
I gasp softly when his hand slides under the hem of my shirt, his palm warm and rough against my stomach. He drifts upward, his fingers tracing the ridges of my ribs until his hand is splayed flat against my chest, right over my heart.
His touch is possessive and grounding, his thumb brushing gently back and forth over my skin as he kisses my neck.
“You’re gonna make me burn breakfast,” I say, tilting my head to give him better access.
Cass’s mouth lingers for a second, then he exhales against my skin. “I missed you last night,” he says quietly.
That stops me short in the best way. I glance up at the alpha over my shoulder.
“I think that you should start sleeping in my room again,” he says. “With Tansy and me. I hate the idea of you sleeping all alone in your room.”
“You are too sweet, Cassian Vexler,” I say as I turn fully toward him, the spatula still clutched in my hand. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him in, careful of his balance. “But I haven’t been alone. I’ve been sleeping with Gray or Warren. Sometimes both.” I give him a playful wink, making him smile.
